Chapter Text
Night had fallen completely, and the highway seemed endless.
Only the RV's headlights cut through the darkness while the engine hummed steadily beneath them.
Sniper blinked hard. Then again and again but it didn't help. Fatigue was finally beginning to catch up with him.
He'd been behind the wheel for far too many hours, and beside him Scout had fallen asleep for the second time that day, his head tipped lightly against the window, his mouth hanging open just enough to look ridiculous.
Even asleep, he couldn't seem to stay completely still. Every so often he'd mumble something unintelligible or frown for a few seconds before relaxing again. Sniper smiled to himself.
Then shook his head. Watching Scout sleep had somehow made him even sleepier. He needed to stay focused and passing out at the wheel wasn't exactly on the itinerary.
The quiet drone of the road only made things worse and it was almost soothing. He considered pushing on for another couple of hours, but quickly dismissed the idea. They weren't terribly far anymore... Still, there were several hours left, and driving exhausted was just asking for trouble.
He shook his head again—harder this time—in a desperate attempt to wake himself up.
Maybe he should wake Scout so they could both head to the back and get some sleep... In a minute.
As though he'd somehow heard that thought—which was becoming a disturbingly common occurrence—Scout let out a long yawn before lazily opening one eye.
"Geez, Snipes..." His voice was low and rough with sleep. Completely different from the loud, fast-talking voice he used during the day. It was a voice almost nobody ever heard.
Well, almost nobody except Sniper. And for some ridiculous reason, that thought alone made him happier than it probably should have.
"Aren't ya completely knackered?"
Sniper let out a tired chuckle.
"Was just thinkin' about waking you."
"Oh yeah?"
"I reckon we oughta pull over for a bit. Catch some sleep in the back. There's some woods up ahead—we can park there for a while. Sound alright?"
Scout nodded almost immediately, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Please."
...
They found a small turnoff near the edge of the forest. Far enough from the highway to get some proper rest but close enough not to lose too much time.
Sniper radioed the rest of the team—again. At this point he'd completely lost count of how many updates he'd given throughout the trip.
Once he was finished, the two of them headed into the back of the RV. By the time they got there, Sniper barely had enough energy left to peel off most of his clothes, stripping down to nothing but his jeans with surprising urgency.
He climbed onto the bunk almost blindly and let himself collapse face-first onto the mattress. It welcomed him like an old friend.
He let out a long, exhausted sigh. The soft sheets barely had time to brush against his skin before sleep claimed him almost instantly.
"Christ..." That was all he managed to mumble. Scout snorted.
"Never seen anyone fall in love with a bed that fast."
No response. Sniper was already gone.
"Snipes?" Nothing. Scout chuckled to himself. "Freakin' impressive."
Shaking his head, he wandered into the tiny bathroom to change into something more comfortable. Night had settled in, and there was no reason to stay dressed anymore.
When he came back out, absolutely nothing had changed. Sniper hadn't moved an inch.
Scout switched off the light before climbing into the bunk beside him, tugging part of the blanket over himself as he settled in.
"Sharing never killed anyone." he muttered quietly to himself.
It didn't take long to get comfortable. He wasn't sleepy, just tired of sitting still for hours on end. He closed his eyes anyway, maybe he'd get lucky.
A long while passed, soft snores drifted through the darkness from Sniper's side of the bed. Scout, meanwhile, was still wide awake. He rolled onto one side and then the other. He tried to adjust the pillow too. Also pulled the blanket higher. Nothing worked.
After several more minutes, he turned over again. This time he found himself facing Sniper's back. The sniper had curled onto his side sometime after falling asleep.
Moonlight filtered through one of the windows, just bright enough to outline his silhouette. Most people would've assumed Scout had never paid much attention to it. Maybe he'd assumed that too.
But now... His eyes lingered on every scar stretched across Sniper's back. Some long, some barely visible. Each one telling a story Scout would probably never hear.
Something twisted quietly inside his chest.
How many times had this idiot almost died for real? Before the whole respawn machine business.
His hand moved before he consciously decided to. Slowly and carefully. As though he was afraid of breaking something. Surprisingly gentle for someone like him.
Almost hypnotized, the tips of his fingers barely brushed one of the scars. It was hardly even a touch. More the ghost of one.
Sniper's skin tensed immediately. Scout jerked his hand back as though he'd touched a hot stove.
"Shit..." He froze completely still. Waiting. Thankfully, Sniper never woke.
Scout let out the breath he'd been holding. He felt his ears burned and he buried his face in both hands.
"What the fucking hell are you doing, you idiot...?" he whispered to himself.
He rolled over to face the opposite wall, determined to forget what had just happened. The next twenty minutes were spent silently cursing his own impulsiveness. Eventually, sleep caught up with him too.
...
When Sniper opened his eyes again, the RV was still wrapped in darkness.
He blinked several times, taking a moment to remember where he was. The trip. Pulling over to rest. Scout. Especially Scout.
He frowned. Why the hell was one of his arms completely numb?
Turning his head just enough to look, he immediately found the answer. Scout had somehow ended up using his arm as the most comfortable pillow on the planet.
His hair was an absolute mess, sticking up in every direction, and he was breathing slow and steady, completely dead to the world.
Warmth settled quietly in Sniper's chest. He couldn't help smiling.
Bloody idiot. And somehow, Sniper was the lucky one.
He stayed like that for a few more seconds, simply watching him before trying to glance at the clock mounted on the wall. Unfortunately, that proved impossible. Any movement would probably wake Scout—even if experience had taught him that the runner could sleep through just about anything.
Then he remembered he'd never taken off his wristwatch, and luckily it was on the arm Scout wasn't currently occupying. He tilted his wrist toward the faint moonlight. 2:00 a.m.
"What...?"
They'd slept far longer than either of them had planned. Why hadn't one of them woken up sooner? Then again, the rest of the team had probably stopped somewhere to sleep too, so it wasn't exactly a disaster. Still, it felt strangely irresponsible.
Sniper sighed quietly before looking back down at Scout. The darkness inside the RV swallowed most of his features, leaving only the faint outline of his face visible beneath the pale moonlight.
And yet... Somehow Scout always managed to brighten whatever place he happened to be in.
A quiet laugh escaped Sniper before he could stop it.
"What a mess you are..." he whispered. The hopelessly lovesick smile on his face would've been embarrassing if anyone had been there to witness it.
As though he'd heard him, the bostonian shifted in his sleep, unconsciously moving even closer. His forehead came to rest against Sniper's chest.
That alone was enough to throw his heart into complete disarray again. It always was.
His heartbeat became so loud he was convinced it might wake him. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw as he tried to calm himself down. His face was already burning.
And the worst part, he knew that even if moments like this happened a thousand more times... He would never have Scout the way he truly wanted.
Accepting that hurt. God, it hurt.
It was like standing on the other side of an unbreakable window, staring at the most beautiful landscape in the world. Close enough to admire it. Never close enough to reach it.
They breathed the same air, shared the same bed, the same tiny space, the same city, the same country, the same world, the same universe. Out of billions of people, he'd somehow been lucky enough to find someone like Scout... Only to be unlucky enough that he could never truly have him.
Slowly—almost fearfully—Sniper lifted one hand.
He wanted to brush his thumb across Scout's cheek. He wanted to tuck that stubborn lock of hair behind his ear. He wanted to press a kiss against his forehead. He wanted to do so many things that he eventually stopped counting.
Instead, he did none of them.
He simply reached for the blanket and gently pulled it higher over Scout's half-bare shoulders. His oversized sleep shirt had slipped down again. Somehow, even that was adorable. Every tiny little thing about him was.
After another brief moment of hesitation, Sniper finally allowed himself one small indulgence. His fingertips lightly brushed a stray lock of hair away from Scout's eyes. Nothing more. That was all he could allow himself.
He smiled. Then, slowly, the smile faded into something quieter. Something almost painful.
"Goodnight, Roo..." he whispered.
The speedster answered with nothing more than a sleepy mumble. Maybe he was hearing him somewhere inside his dreams.
Without waking, he instinctively snuggled a little closer. Completely unaware of what that simple movement did to the man beside him.
Sniper closed his eyes. Then, making absolutely certain not to wake him, he slowly slipped an arm around Scout's waist, holding him in the gentlest embrace he could manage. Wasn't expecting anything in return. He never did.
And yet, still asleep, Scout instinctively shifted again until they were lying together, quietly wrapped around one another. Nothing more than that. Nothing that meant anything.
At least, not to Scout, for one night... Sniper allowed himself to pretend the world was exactly the way he'd always wished it could be.
His hand tightened ever so slightly around Scout's waist, as though he might disappear the moment he let go.
Then he closed his eyes and as sleep claimed him once more... He let himself dream that, somewhere—if only for a single night—they belonged to each other.
...
"Oh, oh! There they are! Hardhat, Mumbles, and Spy! See 'em? Do ya see 'em?!" Scout bounced excitedly in his seat, pointing toward the massive truck a few hundred feet ahead. In his enthusiasm, he ended up smacking Sniper's shoulder twice.
"Yeah, yeah, Roo. I see them."
"Then step on it already!"
"We're not racin' in the bloody Grand Prix, rabbit," Sniper replied with a grin.
"I'm always racin'."
That earned a quiet chuckle from the Australian, who pressed the accelerator just a little harder.
Little by little, the camper caught up to Engineer's truck, and once they were driving side by side, Sniper gave the horn two quick taps.
Pyro reacted first. They spun around so fast they nearly smacked their head against the window, and the second they recognized the camper, they started waving with both hands as if they hadn't seen the pair in years. Sniper lifted one hand off the wheel for a brief wave in return.
Engineer noticed them next and tipped the brim of his hard hat with an easygoing smile.
Spy, meanwhile, gave the smallest of jumps at the sound of the horn. Scout caught it immediately. The Frenchman recovered his composure as though nothing had happened, adjusted one of his gloves with perfect elegance, and spoke in the driest tone imaginable.
"Oh. What a delightful surprise."
Scout burst into laughter.
"He jumped!"
"I most certainly did not," Spy replied without the slightest hint of emotion. And from the driver's seat, Engineer let out a snort that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh.
"Afternoon, boys."
"How's it goin'?" Sniper called back.
"Didn't even notice when y'all caught up. We took ourselves a little shortcut."
"And we took ourselves a little nap!" Scout said, jerking his thumb toward the back of the camper. "Guess that's how you managed to pass us."
"So we heard from your friend, mon fils." Spy answered evenly, though the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested he found the situation far more amusing.
Scout folded his arms and rolled his eyes so dramatically it was almost impressive, but it didn't stop him from continuing.
"Snipes was about five minutes away from fallin' asleep at the wheel."
"How reassuring. Very responsible of you," Spy remarked, now directing the comment squarely at Sniper.
"Oi!" the Australian protested. "Everything depended on me. Your son's no help here."
Scout immediately pointed an accusing finger at him.
"I wanted to drive! I know how to drive!"
"You don't know how to drive this vehicle," Sniper replied, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. "Honestly, I'm not convinced you know how to drive any vehicle."
Scout punched him lightly in the shoulder.
"You only say that 'cause you know how to fly planes an' all that fancy crap."
Sniper merely shrugged again, wearing the kind of smile that wasn't quite smug but wasn't exactly innocent either.
"At least I know more than you."
"Are ya ever gonna let the motorcycle thing go?"
"Nah."
"Terrible friend."
"I'll do the drivin', little gremlin."
Before Scout could react, Sniper reached over and tugged the brim of his cap down over his eyes. Scout laughed as he shoved it back into place.
Engineer finally gave in and laughed outright, while Spy let out an exasperated sigh and deliberately looked away.
"Son, you still need to learn how to operate somethin' with more than two wheels."
"I will."
"When?" Spy asked for engineer.
Scout went suspiciously quiet for a couple of seconds.
"...Eventually."
"In other words, never," Sniper cut in.
The Bostonian answered by landing another friendly punch against his shoulder, earning a pained laugh from the sniper. Pyro, meanwhile, was practically shaking with muffled giggles, happily watching the exchange unfold.
Spy sighed as though the two of them were personally shortening his lifespan.
"Would the pair of you kindly postpone your automotive disputes until we're no longer travelling at highway speeds? It's giving me a migraine." Then his gaze shifted to the road ahead, and his expression sharpened almost instantly. "We're here."
He turned toward Engineer with a small nod.
"Laborer, take the next right."
Engineer smiled, flicked on the indicator, and the enormous truck rolled smoothly onto the exit, with Sniper's camper following close behind.
A few seconds later, Sniper followed suit, steering the camper into the campground behind the truck.
A weathered wooden sign finally welcomed them into the park, and just like that, civilization seemed to fall away behind them.
The two vehicles announced the team's arrival over the radio, and a few of the others chimed in to say they weren't far behind.
The road narrowed as towering pines closed in on either side, their branches stretching overhead until they almost formed a canopy. A cool breeze drifted through the half-open window, carrying with it a scent entirely different from the desert they'd left behind.
Damp earth, fresh timber, pine resin, leaves and the unmistakable smell of the forest.
Sniper drew in a slow, deep breath before he even realized he was smiling. The scent struck something buried deep in his memory.
Early mornings back in Australia. The days he'd slip out of the house with his rifle slung over one shoulder long before sunrise, disappearing into the bush for hours at a time. Endless hikes beneath the trees, birds calling somewhere overhead, the kind of silence that never truly felt empty. For a moment, he was there again.
Scout glanced over at him but didn't say a word. He didn't have to.
He knew that look by now; Sniper had wandered off into one of his memories again, and somehow, seeing that quiet little smile tugging at the sniper's lips made one appear on Scout's face too.
It wasn't long before they reached the park entrance, where a small ranger station stood beside a lowered barrier. As the vehicles rolled to a stop, a park ranger stepped outside with a clipboard tucked beneath one arm.
"Afternoon," he greeted politely, though the boredom in his voice suggested he'd repeated those same words a thousand times already.
The vehicles came to a halt.
"I'm gonna need the name the reservation's under."
Scout's smile vanished almost instantly. He cleared his throat, suddenly looking far less confident as his fingers began tapping nervously against his knee.
Sniper felt much the same. Neither of them had stopped to think about how they were actually supposed to check in.
He glanced toward Engineer. The Texan opened his mouth—
—but before he could say a single word, a gloved hand settled lightly on his shoulder.
"The reservation was made through Mann Co.," Spy said smoothly, as though there had never been any reason to worry.
The ranger flipped through several pages before stopping.
"Here we are..." He adjusted his glasses. "Nine people. Scout, Soldier, Pyro, Demoman, Heavy, Engineer, Medic, Sniper and... Spy."
The ranger slowly raised an eyebrow before looking up from the clipboard.
"...Those your actual names?"
"They are the only names you need concern yourself with," Spy answered calmly, though there was just enough steel beneath his polite tone to discourage any further questions.
The ranger stared at him for a long moment and then back at the clipboard. Then at Spy again. Finally, he sighed.
"They don't pay me enough for this."
With a shrug, he handed over a folded map of the park without asking where the rest of the group was.
"Welcome to Olympic."
The barrier lifted with a slow mechanical hum. Both vehicles rolled forward, disappearing deeper into the forest. Only once they were well out of sight did another ranger wander out of the station, watching them vanish between the trees.
"...I've seen some weird groups." He paused. "But they take the cake."
His coworker barely looked up as he folded the clipboard shut.
"As long as they don't feed the wildlife, I couldn't care less."
"You sayin' that because of last year?"
The older ranger let out the weary sigh of a man reliving a painful memory.
"A giant Russian fella decided the fish in the lake looked hungry."
"...Please don't tell me."
"He fed 'em sandwiches." The second ranger stared at him. "You're kidding."
"I spent the entire afternoon fishin' dead trout outta the water."
"...Gross."
The first ranger simply shrugged.
"...Could've been worse."
Without another word, the two of them headed back inside the station.
...
"And... we're here," Sniper said with an audible sigh of relief as he finally killed the camper's engine. He let his forehead rest against the steering wheel for a couple of seconds before groaning softly. "Bloody hell... I seriously need a coffee."
His back immediately protested as he straightened up, earning another long sigh. He'd always loved driving—always would—but after that many hours behind the wheel, even he was starting to miss the simple feeling of solid ground beneath his boots.
One by one, the mercenaries climbed out of their vehicles while they waited for the rest of the team to arrive.
Some stretched sore muscles. Others simply stood there, taking in the enormous parking area surrounded by endless rows of towering pines.
The air felt nothing like the desert. It was colder, cleaner, free of sand. It carried that rich, damp scent only forests seemed capable of producing.
Sniper inhaled deeply. He almost felt at home.
Unfortunately, he barely had a chance to enjoy the moment before someone flung the camper door open with enough force to rattle the hinges.
"FREEEEEEEDOM!" Scout shot out of the camper exactly the same way he had at every single stop along the journey.
He landed, bounced twice in place, stretched both arms high above his head, rolled his shoulders, and immediately started swinging his arms and legs around as though he were warming up for a marathon.
"God! I can actually feel my legs again!"
Sniper couldn't help laughing.
"Didn't know they'd stayed attached."
"Neither did I!" Scout continued stretching with all the subtlety of an excited puppy.
"I figured they'd declared independence about ten hours ago." Sniper added with a grin as he climbed down from the camper.
He stretched his own back, and a series of loud cracks echoed through his shoulders. The deep, satisfied sigh that escaped him afterwards sounded almost embarrassing.
Scout immediately pointed at him.
"Jesus, that sounded awful." He smirked. "How old are ya now, gramps? Fifty?"
"It felt bloody incredible." Sniper replied without a hint of shame. "And what's it to you?"
Scout laughed and wandered over in a series of energetic little hops, somehow still looking like he had enough energy left to sprint another twenty miles.
"Snipes!"
"What is it now?"
"...Thanks."
Sniper blinked. His confusion only grew when he saw Scout smiling from ear to ear, bright as ever—that huge grin that somehow managed to light up whatever place he happened to be standing in. Sniper felt himself smiling before he could stop it.
"No, seriously." Scout rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly sounding just a little more sheepish. "Thanks for puttin' up with me the whole trip... Actually, thanks for puttin' up with me ever since we met. Uh... Y'know what I mean."
The Australian felt his heart perform one of those painfully familiar little flips. How could he not do it?
-I would do anything for you-
> The thought arrived uninvited.
He immediately shook it away before it had the chance to settle, absentmindedly adjusting the collar of his shirt to give his hands something to do. He was nervous and probably blushing a little, too.
God. How did Scout always manage to say the things that mattered most as though they were the simplest words in the world?
Sniper cleared his throat.
"You don't have to thank me for that, Roo."
"Yeah, I do."
"Nah."
"Yeah."
"Nah."
"Yeah."
They both smiled. And as usual, Sniper was the first to surrender.
"...Alright." He adjusted the brim of his hat. "Then I reckon I've got somethin' to thank you for, too."
Scout tilted his head, a crooked grin slowly spreading across his face.
"...Me?" He pointed at himself with exaggerated disbelief. "Really?"
"'Course." Sniper fell quiet just for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure how much he ought to say.
After another slow breath, he gathered enough courage to put the thought into words. Scout was already giving him a puzzled look by then... Fair enough.
"I would've been a hell of a lot more bored without you." He said it so quietly that Scout had to lean in just a little to catch the words. And standing that close, he heard every single one.
Scout let out a quiet laugh, positively glowing. His ears had turned a noticeable shade of red, though he made up for it with the smug grin stretching from ear to ear.
Unfortunately, that only made Sniper blush even harder.
Christ! What were they, a pair of bloody teenagers? Why couldn't he fall in love like a normal, fully grown professional assassin? He was a mercenary, for God's sake. The same man who has a plan to kill everyone he meets? The Sniper?
And yet here he was, feeling as though one smile from Scout might actually be the death of him.
Still... It felt pretty wonderful.
His thoughts promptly collapsed into complete chaos. Deciding that eye contact was suddenly far too dangerous, Sniper looked away before his face gave everything away.
Scout, however, stopped stretching altogether and slowly turned toward him. The cocky grin had faded, in its place was something smaller. Warmer and more genuine.
"Hey." His voice was surprisingly soft. "Thanks."
That single word hit harder than any bullet ever had. Because Scout meant it. Really meant it.
They held each other's gaze for a few long seconds, and Sniper immediately felt those familiar butterflies erupt into motion again, fluttering so violently that they drowned out every coherent thought in his head.
For one ridiculous moment, he wanted to brush that stubborn lock of hair away from Scout's forehead. Or ruffle it. Or... Maybe just keep looking at him for a little while longer.
Instead, he quickly looked away before the lovesick idiot written all over his face became too obvious. His ears felt like they were on fire.
"...Well."
"...Well," Scout echoed, copying even the tone of his voice. The little mimic. He flashed another amused smile before casually returning to his stretches.
Sniper simply shook his head, laughing under his breath. Before he could think of a comeback, Scout suddenly grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.
"Snipes!"
The shout was so loud that Sniper instinctively squeezed his eyes shut.
"What?" he asked, sounding thoroughly dazed. Another tug.
"SNIPES!" Even louder this time. Sniper pinched the bridge of his nose.
"What is it now?"
"Oh my God, oh my God!" A stronger one. "OH MY GOD!"
Scout nearly ripped his sleeve clean off as he pointed frantically toward a patch of forest.
For a brief moment, Sniper was fairly certain his hearing had suffered permanent damage.
"What?" he repeated with remarkable calm.
He followed Scout's finger until he spotted... A squirrel. A perfectly ordinary squirrel scampering up the trunk of a pine tree.
A silence fell, and Sniper slowly looked back at Scout. The Bostonian was absolutely mesmerized.
"Is that an actual freakin' squirrel?" Scout breathed, sounding as though he'd just discovered a mythical creature.
Sniper couldn't help laughing.
"Yeah. Looks like one."
"It's huge!"
"It's... a perfectly normal squirrel."
"It's alive!"
"They usually are."
Scout took an involuntary step closer, staring at the tiny animal with complete wonder.
"I've never seen one this close before..." His chin rested thoughtfully in one hand, genuine curiosity written all over his face.
Sniper raised an eyebrow.
"Never?"
Scout shook his head.
"Not really." He let out a small sigh. "I never paid much attention to the woods when I was in the Scouts. Or the books, or the troop leader... Actually, I didn't pay attention to pretty much anything."
Sniper smiled. The irony would never stop being funny.
"No?"
"Nope. I mostly went 'cause we'd have these huge races, the food was awesome..." His voice softened. "...And 'cause I got to disappear from home for a couple days."
A faint sadness crossed Sniper's face. He simply listened as always.
"I guess my class name never really fit me, huh?" Scout said with a sheepish little shrug.
Then, just as quickly, he smiled again.
"But now I actually want to learn!" He pointed excitedly at the squirrel once more. "Look at her. She's ridiculously adorable. I just hope Pyro doesn't find her first."
Sniper chuckled, and Scout laughed along with him.
"So why's that?"
"'Cause Pyro's either gonna adopt her..." Scout paused dramatically. "...or rip her head off. With Pyro, you honestly never know."
They both burst into laughter again. Without really thinking about it, Sniper reached over and rested a hand lightly on Scout's shoulder.
"If you want... if you want, I could teach you about everything we find out here, Roo. Learned a hell of a lot over these twenty-eight years."
Scout looked up, and Sniper caught the unmistakable shine in his eyes.
"Ya really would?"
"Course. Spent half my life livin' in the bush. Be a waste not to show off a little."
Scout's grin widened so much it looked physically impossible for him to contain his excitement.
"Then it's settled, Mister Know-It-All." He pointed at him with exaggerated importance. "Officially, you're my tour guide now."
A pleasant warmth settled deep in Sniper's chest.
Without thinking much of it, Scout lifted a hand and gave the back of the one still resting on his shoulder a couple of light pats.
It was such a tiny, harmless gesture. And yet it was more than enough to make Sniper's heart do exactly what it'd been doing since the trip began: Completely lose its composure.
When Scout pulled his hand away a few seconds later, Sniper couldn't stop the tiny stab of disappointment that followed.
Ridiculous.
What had he expected? For Scout to lace their fingers together?
He forced himself back to reality.
"Would you two eager lovebirds mind starting to unload the luggage?" The voice came so suddenly that both of them gave a small start.
Spy stood behind them with his arms folded, wearing that permanent expression of refined exhaustion that seemed stitched into his uniform.
"Or am I interrupting... Something?"
Scout rolled his eyes so hard Sniper could've sworn he actually heard it.
"Oh, here we go..." he groaned.
Before Sniper had a chance to react, Scout grabbed him by the arm.
"C'mon."
"What?"
"The bags."
"But—"
Scout was already dragging him toward the back of the van, leaving Sniper only enough time to glance back at Spy with complete confusion written across his face.
The second they stepped inside, Scout yanked the rear door open.
"I'M DOIN' THIS 'CAUSE I WANT TO, NOT 'CAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO!" he shouted back at the Frenchman before slamming the door with dramatic force.
Spy watched the whole performance in silence. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
It disappeared almost immediately because, on the opposite side of the parking lot...
"PYRO!" Engineer shouted, taking off at a run, his hard hat nearly flying off. "Leave that poor critter alone!"
Pyro giggled happily as they chased the very same squirrel from before. Or at least, that's what it looked like. Nobody really knew what was going on.
Spy watched the spectacle unfold, slowly closed his eyes, and let out a long, defeated sigh.
"This is going to be a very, very long trip."
...
"And this'll be your campsite." The park ranger said, sweeping an arm toward the wide clearing nestled between the trees.
There was more than enough room for several tents, with a fire pit waiting in the middle.
"Potable water's over there," he continued, pointing toward a narrow gravel path. "The restrooms are that way. And, please... make sure you keep all your food stored away. The raccoons around here are... Persistent."
"RACCOONS?!" Soldier bellowed, stepping forward with his eyes shining like a child on Christmas morning. The ranger stared at him with an exhausted expression.
"That's right."
A brief silence followed.
"Are they communists?" Soldier demanded.
The ranger actually needed a few seconds to process the question.
"...Not that I'm aware of."
"Outstanding!"
Scout burst out laughing, earning an immediate glare from Soldier.
"Well, if you need anything—or if there's an emergency—the administration cabin is about a ten-minute walk west. There are signs posted all over the park, so it's pretty difficult to get lost."
He paused, letting his gaze drift across the group one last time. Then he sighed.
"Though with you lot... you never know." he muttered under his breath.
Unfortunately for him, Spy heard every single word. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of the Frenchman's mouth.
The ranger cleared his throat.
"Enjoy your stay."
With that, he turned and disappeared among the pines. The mercenaries watched him leave for a few seconds.
Then, almost the instant the man was out of sight, Spy stepped forward. It was painfully obvious he'd been waiting for precisely this moment.
"Gentlemen..." He paused delicately. "...and Pyro."
One by one, everyone's attention shifted toward him. With perfect composure, Spy adjusted his gloves.
"As Miss Pauling ran into a few complications and won't be able to supervise us personally... She has entrusted me with that responsibility."
"We're doomed," Scout announced dramatically. Spy chose to pretend he hadn't spoken.
"Therefore, before one of you manages to turn this national park into tomorrow morning's headline... I have prepared a few basic rules."
Soldier immediately shot his hand into the air.
"IS THERE A CONSTITUTION OF THE FOREST?!"
"No. But after living with all of you for several years... I decided one was necessary."
Engineer let out a quiet chuckle. Spy cleared his throat.
"Rule number one." Spy looked directly at Pyro. "Under no circumstances are you to use your flamethrower near trees, tents, wildlife, people... Or torture the animals. Seriously."
Another brief pause.
"...In fact, just don't use it near anything that exists."
"Mmph..." Pyro's shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"...Although," Spy amended after another moment of consideration. "You may assist with the campfire."
Pyro's eyes lit up immediately.
"MMPH!"
"Under supervision."
The excitement vanished just as quickly. Scout and Engineer both gave Pyro a couple of sympathetic pats on the shoulder.
"You'll get there, buddy."
"Demoman."
The Scotsman already had a bottle in his hand.
"You will not drink anything you didn't bring yourself."
Demoman raised an eyebrow.
"We're still on about that?"
"Last time you mistook alcohol for disinfectant."
"That happened once!" Demoman protested, raising a finger.
Out of absolutely nowhere, Medic appeared beside him with a pleasant smile.
"Actually, mein Freund..." He rested a hand on Demoman's shoulder. "It happened three times."
Demoman swallowed. He didn't even dare turn around.
"...I'd rather we didn't discuss that."
Spy continued.
"Soldier."
"Present!"
"You are not allowed to adopt any raccoons. Stay away from them."
"What?" His eyes widened beneath his helmet. "But—"
"No 'buts.' And while we're at it, do not declare war on the local wildlife."
"What if they shoot first?"
"They won't shoot you." Spy rolled his eyes.
"How can you be so sure, Frenchie?"
Spy slowly closed his eyes. Took a long breath and exhaled. Scout was laughing so hard he nearly lost his balance.
Deciding his sanity mattered more than winning this argument, Spy simply moved on.
"Medic."
"Ja?"
"You are not to experiment on the animals. We do not need a duck-fish... or any similar abomination."
"Herr Spy!" Medic laughed quietly. "I already have eight animals back at the base to satisfy my need for experimentation!"
The only person who seemed to find that reassuring was Heavy.
"Of course." His tone remained perfectly calm. "Oh, and no getting carried away with your giant lover. Please, keep your hormones under control. You're both far too old for these sorts of incidents."
Heavy stopped laughing so abruptly it was almost impressive, answering only with an offended grunt. The german, meanwhile, burst into even louder laughter, a noticeable blush creeping onto his cheeks.
The rest of the team followed suit, most laughed awkwardly. Demoman, however, was practically doubled over.
Spy cleared his throat loudly several times until the final chuckles finally died away.
"Heavy."
The Russian looked up.
"No feeding the wildlife. Thank you."
Heavy gave a solemn nod.
"Scout."
"Yeah?"
"No wandering off without telling anyone."
"I never do that!" Scout folded his arms indignantly. "Why d'you even think that?"
Silence.
Sniper let out a suspiciously well-timed cough while studying a nearby tree with tremendous interest. Scout slowly turned toward him.
"...What?"
Sniper continued admiring the tree.
"What? What was that cough?!"
Sniper finally broke, letting out a quiet laugh.
"We're simply trying to avoid having a missing child on our hands." Spy concluded and Scout huffed dramatically.
"Alright, alright! And for the record, I'm not a freakin' kid! Not funny."
Spy nodded in satisfaction before moving on.
"And you."
The australian raised an eyebrow and pointed at himself.
"You are also forbidden from disappearing into the woods for several hours."
"I know these forests like the back of my hand."
"That is precisely the problem. You're the one most likely to get lost on purpose."
Sniper let out a resigned chuckle and gave an unconcerned shrug.
"And one more thing." Spy pointed directly at him. "Please refrain from urinating in the lake. We have perfectly functional toilets, just like civilized people."
Sniper's eyes widened. A second later, he merely snorted and flipped him off. Spy, with remarkable dignity, pretended not to notice.
"Engineer."
The Texan smiled, looking expectantly at Spy.
"I can't think of a single flaw you have."
Engineer blinked. A faint blush immediately crept across his face.
Silence settled over the clearing and Scout was the first to shatter it.
"Favouritism!" he cried indignantly.
"Objection!" Demoman shouted, raising his bottle.
"French propaganda!" Soldier declared, pointing accusingly at Spy. Heavy nodded gravely.
"Very suspicious."
"Well... thank you kindly..." Engineer said sincerely, adjusting his hard hat with an embarrassed smile.
"Silence." Spy raised one hand but nobody listened. The protests only grew louder.
So, with the patience of a man who had long since accepted his fate, Spy calmly drew his revolver and fired a single shot into the air.
The entire forest fell silent. Several startled birds burst from the trees, disappearing into the sky. Spy holstered the weapon again.
"Thank you."
Scout folded his arms.
"And what about you, Your Majesty? Reincarnation of perfection?"
"I require no rules." Spy replied with a tiny shrug.
Silence. Then Heavy spoke.
"Could attract bear with fruity perfume."
Medic nodded thoughtfully.
"And smoking beside trees does not strike me as a particularly brilliant idea either."
Spy stood perfectly still for several seconds. Finally, he sighed.
"... Very well. I shall refrain from wearing perfume... And I'll smoke well away from the forest."
The team nodded in satisfaction. Spy slipped a cigarette between his lips and lit it with his lighter.
"Now then..." He exhaled a thin stream of smoke. "You're free to begin setting up camp. Try not to destroy the park. If someone goes missing, inform the rest of us. More importantly, do try not to die."
Without another word, he started walking calmly toward the edge of the lake.
For a few moments, nobody spoke. Then everyone drifted off to do their own thing.
Scout let out a quiet sigh before glancing over at Sniper, who was still standing beside him.
The Australian was staring silently up through the branches, watching the evening sky.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?"
Sniper took a few seconds before answering.
"Nothing important."
It was a lie. He'd been thinking about how different the air smelled out here, how beautiful the forest was, and how, for reasons he couldn't quite explain... Everything seemed even more beautiful simply because Scout was standing beside him.
"Just enjoyin' the moment." A faint smile tugged at his lips as he turned to look at him.
Scout answered with the exact same smile. He was about to say something when Engineer suddenly called out.
"Sun's settin'!"
Everyone instinctively looked up. Golden and amber light filtered gently through the treetops.
"What d'you say?" Engineer grinned. "Watch the sunset before we unpack?"
Most of the team answered with an enthusiastic "Yeah!" Within seconds they were already making their way toward the lakeshore.
"I CALL THE BEST SPOT!" Scout yelled, taking off at a sprint. "First one there wins!"
As he dashed past, he playfully smacked Sniper's arm.
"Last one there makes breakfast tomorrow!"
Sniper laughed, shaking his head as he followed at a much more reasonable pace.
"You know that's completely unfair, Roo."
"And you know I don't care!" Scout never slowed down.
The Australian couldn't help smiling.
Maybe one day they'd watch another sunset like this one.
Just the two of them.
Perhaps sitting side by side.
Perhaps sharing the same comfortable silence.
And if the universe decided to be kind, just this once... Perhaps with their fingers intertwined.
Just perhaps.
Their first day had officially begun.