Chapter Text
"Doc," Scout sighed, "Could I be gay?"
Medic looked up from his paperwork. Scout had walked into the Medibay at around 8 pm, when he'd usually be in the rec room watching television with Pyro. Medic rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, pushing up his glasses in the process. It took a moment for him to fully realize what Scout had said. "...Vhat?" Medic's eyes were widened and he had a smirk on his lips. Scout whined and closed the door behind him.
"I mean, well, I-" He looked down timidly. Something Scout didn't do often, Medic noted mentally. "I didn't mean tah, well, yanno," He gestered a little and his dog tags jingled with his movement. Medic looked at him expectantly, not daring to say a word. Scout sighed and pulled up one of Medic's stools, sitting, causing Medic to roll his eyes. "I mean, it's Helper. Everytime I look at 'im, I get the same feelin' I get when I'm lookin at Ms. Paulin'," He muttered. Medic leaned in, interested. Scout continued.
"But it's not like that, s'different, but in a bad way? S'like I can't help but think about 'im, and I don't wanna feel like I've got the hots for him, cuz I've got it for Ms. Paulin'," Scout twiddled his thumbs and peeled skin away from his fingernails anxiously. Medic pushed back from his desk and thought. "Vell," He started, "Helper joined not too long ago, perhaps it is infatuation, no? Maybe you are just intrigued, maybe intimidated by him, and you are mistaking it for somzhing else."
Scout thought for a moment. That was right, Helper did join the team only about a month ago, when Ms. Pauling decided that she was too busy to keep up with the Mercs at the base, so she hired someone else to help around when she couldn't. Besides, Helper only hung around Demo, Engie and Medic, helping them with their work, buildings and experiments. It's not like Scout saw him that often. But when he did, hoo boy. Scout groaned slightly. "Maybe you're right, pal, but, hey, I mean, what if I really do like him? What am I supposed to do then?" He asked, somewhat sheepishly.
Medic adjusted his gloves. "Vell it vouldn't be the first time someone on the team has engaged in homosexual activities," His mind drifted to Spy and Engineer. "And it's not a problem, but if I vere you, I'd ignore it. Don't act on zese thoughts, you might do somezhing stupid." He waved Scout away. "Iz zhat it?" Scout shook his head. Thoughts were swirling in his head and he didn't know what to think, or feel.
He knew he thought Ms. Pauling was hot, he knew he wanted to get with her, but he was never sure if he loved her. He had had sex before, plenty of times with plenty of girls, it's not like he ever loved any of them. But when he saw Helper, even if he was stressed, following Demo with a bunch of papers in his hand, he seemed...pretty. His hair fluttered off his forehead in spots, in others it was plastered to his forehead with sweat. Sometimes he rolled his sleeves up to his shoulders like Scout always did, and the thought of it sent something fluttering in Scout's stomach. Helper wore glasses when he read, and Scout thought it was nice, sometimes if he woke up early he could catch Helper sitting at the table, glasses perched on his nose, reading the newspaper.
Scout backed into the Medibay doors, pushing them open and running out of the room. "Tanks, Doc!" He said. He passed the rec room and glanced inside, considering joining them. Engineer and Sniper, surprisingly, sat at a table, cards in their hands. Pyro sat behind Engie, and Helper sat behind Sniper, pointing out cards over his shoulder and whispering in his ear. Every once in a while, Sniper would smirk and flick through his cards. Helper's chest was sort of pressed against Sniper's back and Scout felt a slight twinge of jealousy. He sauntered in and sat at the card table, leaning his elbows on the desk.
"Whaddya doin'?" He asked, giving a sideway glance to Helper. He piped up, looking up from Sniper's cards for a moment. "Some new card game Engie came up with," He said, giving Scout a small smile, "Basically there's teams and you just.. try to win. I didn't really pay attention." Helper blushed bashfully as Sniper laughed at him. "Aw, mate, Oi've been depending on you this whole toime!" He slapped his cards on the table. "We wouldn't have won anyway," He said, standing. Scout felt a rush of relief when Sniper and Helper stopped touching.
Wait, huh? Why would his stomach ache just by seeing Helper touch another man? Sure, Sniper was taller than he was, (arguably) smarter, and more calm, but what else did Sniper have that Scout didn't? Scout gritted his teeth with jealousy and confusion as he watched Sniper's back as he walked away. He jumped as Helper lay a hand on Scout's shoulder. "You ok man? Did you want to play?" He said, leaning down a little so their eyes were level. Scout playfully smacked his hand away. "Naw! Nah, no, I wouldn't get the dumb card game anyway," He said, turning.
Engineer stood. "Well, fellers, if that's the end of that, I'm gonna steal Helper for the night, I need an extra set of hands for a new mini sentry I designed." He put the cards down and wiped his hands on his pants, motioning to Helper for him to follow him. Scout spoke before he could think.
"Hold on, wait," He said, causing both Engineer and Helper to pause. "I uh..I need Helper's help," Scout paused and thought. "For uh, cleaning my gun! Yeah, yeah that." He cleared his throat as Helper looked at him sideways. "Can't you ask Heavy for help with that? He'd know how better than me," Helper said, cracking his knuckles. "Besides I've never even touched your gun, I don't want to break it," He smiled, itching the back of his neck. Scout couldn't help but get more desperate.
“Well, den I could teach you a thing or two! Besides you’re always with Engie, how ‘bout a change of scenery, huh?” He smirked, leaning on the table. Helper tapped a finger on his chin. "Could you live without me, Engie?" He said, turning to face the Engineer. He waved his hand and nodded. "Don't worry about it, I'll just go hang out with Spah." He smiled and walked away.
Scout knew Engineer and Spy were together, almost everyone knew. It was a hard truth for Scout to come to terms with, but it didn't really bother him. Helper watched Engineer as he walked away. "Scout," He said, "Why do Engineer and Spy see each other so often? They don't seem the type to get along." Helper adjusted one of his gloves nervously, and Scout watched his long fingers work the velcro. He felt a slight tinge of fluttering deep in his stomach. Scout cleared his throat before he started speaking. "Yeah, they're gay or whatever, have been for a while." Scout said, lightly trailing off. Helper cocked a brow.
"Do you mean that jokingly or are they actually in a relationship?" He asked. Scout waved his hands. "No, no I'm serious, you see this face?" He pointed at his face, which was deadpan. "This is a serious face."
At that, Helper cracked a smile and exhaled loudly. "Alright, I gotcha. Serious face." Scout took in Helper's small laugh all he could. He smirked wide and set off to his room, smiling harder when he heard Helper's footsteps trailing behind him. For a moment, Medic's words came to him. If I vere you, I'd ignore it. Don't act on zese thoughts, you might do somezhing stupid. Guilt bloomed in Scout’s chest. What if Helper was straight? Even worse, what if Scout was straight? Scout never had anything against gay people, but he saw how they were treated, especially back home in Boston. He bit his lip as he continued to his room. Admitting he might be gay is difficult, and it shook Scout to his core. He glanced back at Helper nervously, who gave him a small smile. Turning his head away quickly, Scout tried to wipe the blush off of his face.
No, he couldn’t give this up yet.
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You have always worked well with others. It wasn't a surprise that everyone got along with you, getting along with others was all you had ever known. Your mother called it 'Jack of All Trades' makes sense, you always had a knack for picking up hobbies and becoming really good at them. What didn't surprise you, however, was when you put an ad in the newspaper for your services and you got a call from Ms. Pauling. It was a rather long phone call, lots of convincing, but you eventually obliged. What got you hooked was the single sentence, "They're masters at what they do, they're a little crazy so they could use someone...level headed like you, that's what I've been looking for." Right. What she's been looking for. Seems legit, you thought.
So when you showed up to a rather dingy base in the middle of butt fuck New Mexico, it was almost exactly what you had expected. Ms. Pauling gave you this advice before she left you alone, putting a solid, warm hand on your shoulder. "Steer clear of making any serious connections with these guys. There isn't any room for anything other than being co-workers, got it?" You nodded, albeit confused, but you got it all the same. It was a strange thing to say, especially to someone on his first day.
You had never held a gun in your life. Lucky for you, you wouldn't even have to learn. All you had to do was be an extra set of hands for whoever needed them. Scribbling down notes for Medic, handing Demo powders for him to pack into his explosives, picking out the right wrenches for Engie to tighten nuts and bolts just right. It was work, it was hard work, and every man there was extremely eccentric and odd. You eventually got used to it. You ignored Spy, didn't bother talking to Soldier, mingled with Pyro as little as you could, and Sniper seemed to go out of his way to ignore you. Over time, there was a little camaraderie between you and all the Mercs, but you were closest with Demoman, Medic, and Engineer, quite obviously.
You had such little time to mingle, especially with someone as loud mouthed as Scout. The two of you barely talked yet you could feel his eyes burn in the back of your head whenever he was around. You considered talking to Engineer about it, but you decided meddling in it might make it worse. After all, you were nothing more than coworkers with everyone here. There was simply no room for anything but. When Scout had asked you to help him clean his scattergun that first time, you should have sent a formal apology to Ms. Pauling right then and there, because you had completely forgotten about what she said the moment you told him you'd help.
You watched his back as you followed him to his room. He looked back at you, he seemed to be worried about something, you could see it in his eyes. You shot him a small smile and he quickly turned back, putting his hand up to his face. He was a few inches taller than you, you stood at around 5'7, not much taller than Engineer but not much shorter than Pyro. He didn't have his bag on him, so you could see his whole back. You noticed his shoulders were broader than you had originally thought, and your eyes drifted down from his shoulder blades to his upper arms, which actually had some decent muscle.
As you were consumed in your thoughts, you didn't notice he had stopped walking. You ran into him softly, your face landing right between his shoulders below his neck. You took a few steps back and put your hands up. "Ach, sorry Scout I didn't notice you had stopped walking," Scout whipped around and put his hands on your shoulders, clearly surprised. He looked down at you, and you noticed some freckles peppering his cheeks that you didn’t think were there before. He turned a shade of red. “Gosh, watch where yer goin’!” He said, turning quickly. Scout jammed the key into his door and opened it. You mumbled a sorry before following him in.
The inside of his room was about what you expected. A bed, with the sheets unmade and messy, clothes here and there on the floor, and posters of girls in bikinis, baseball players, and bands littering the walls. You snickered. It was so Scout. It wasn’t clean, per say, but it wasn’t the messiest room you’ve ever been in. On his desk, there lie his gun, a pistol, some bullet cartridges, and heaps of laminated baseball cards. Leaned up against the desk was a metal baseball bat, dented with dark, dried blood caked into it, making the sheen of the metal dull. Scout kicked his shoes off and pushed them into the corner of his room, busying himself with getting out equipment to clean his guns while you took in the space.
You breathed in through your nose, expecting it to smell of sweat and whatever else Scout did while he was in here, but you were pleasantly surprised with a kind of musk you can only get from cheap cologne and deodorant. It wasn’t that bad, in fact it wasn’t bad at all. You hummed slightly in satisfaction as you picked up his scattergun, turning it gently in your hands. He looked at you. “She ain’t loaded so you don’t have to be gentle wit’ ‘er.” He said, pulling out the chair and sitting in it. It creaked under his weight and he leaned in, grabbing his pistol. “Y'know how to take apart a pistol, right?” You paused for a moment, looking at the gun in his hands, and then the gun in your hands. The question he asked flew right over your head.
“Scout, did you just refer to your scattergun as…’she’?” You snickered. He went bright red and snatched the gun out of your hands. “Look!” He started, defensively, “It’s normal for a guy to do that, like dey do wit’ boats! It ain’t so strange, if you had a gun you’d get it, really.” A small blush crept to his cheeks and onto his ears. You couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m just saying, you don’t seem like the type to do that, it’s funny.” Your mind drifted to Heavy, who named almost every one of his guns and treated them like they were a person. Maybe Scout wasn’t so different.
Scout clicked pieces of the pistol out and started laying them on the table neatly. You watched his hands as he worked, he had rather slender fingers, and you noted some small scars that peppered his knuckles, probably from punching things. The rest of his hands were covered in white wraps. You silently played with the trigger of his gun while you watched him clean the individual parts of his pistol. “Helper,” he started, making you jump a little. You put his scattergun down and nodded. “Yeah?”
Scout shifted in his seat. “You ever ah, think about fighting? I mean, out dere on the field, wit’ us.” He looked up at you. You hummed in thought for a moment. “Well, it has crossed my mind every once and a while but, I don’t think there’s anything I could bring to the table. Like Ms. Pauling said, I'm just an extra set of hands to help out in the base, not outside of it.” Scout nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Makes sense, I mean I wouldn’t want you out dere anyway, I’d need to protect you the whole time.” He snickered. You exhaled through your nose, tapping your fingers on the wooden table. It was oddly quiet in the room, and it made you tense.
“No, well, hah,” You started. “I’m not a girl, I can fend for myself.” You said, matter-of-factly. Scout scoffed. “That’s not what I meant, I don’t mean you’re weak I jus-” He paused for a long moment. “I’d just be worried ‘bout you, is all. I don’t want you getting hurt. You’re important around here.” He finished. You stood slightly stunned. “I well.” You said, “I appreciate that, Scout. I don’t feel like I could do more than I do and, well, I feel bad about it. I wish I was stronger but, you saying that, hah, it makes me feel better.” It was quiet for a while, both of you sitting there as Scout finished cleaning his pistol, putting the parts back together now.
“Yeah, I dunno how anybody got anythin’ done before you were here,” He said. You hummed. “Really?” You mused. He looked at you. “Yeah, I’m glad Ms. Paulin’ hired you.” He mumbled something under his breath and you leaned in slightly, trying to catch it. His face was red and he looked back down, busying himself with his gun. You decided not to prod, looking around his room once again. The clock said it was nearly 10 pm.
You pushed away from the table, gathering his attention. “Scout, it’s getting pretty late, maybe I should head off.” You muttered. Something inside of you really didn’t want to go, but the air was getting tenser and more awkward, and you couldn’t explain it. In a way, you felt bad for Scout, he was one of the only mercs you never spent time with. It wasn’t your job to, but you still felt guilty. He was the one closest to your age, he’s always seemed interesting to you, but you made sure to stay away from him.
You knew you were gay. It was something you kept to yourself, and more often than not, it ended up in pain. No matter what kind of guy you were crushing on, they always turned out to be straight, or even worse, homophobic. It hurt you, cut you somewhat deep, and you swore you wouldn’t let that happen again. As you watched Scout look up at you, you froze once you realized your heart was picking up in speed. He frowned, looking disappointed. “I s’pose you’re right,” He sighed, “But can we hang out again? I uh-” He hesitated, “I wanna hang out again, if that’s alright.” You knew the answer to his question straight away, but you pretended to think.
“Yeah, sure. But I didn’t even help you with anything, Scout.” You said. He shook his head. “Nah, not for work, just to hang out, yaknow?” You nodded. “Yeah. I like the idea of that. I’ll cya tomorrow, gnight.” You put your hand on his doorknob and paused, giving him a smile. He smiled back and waved. “Night, Helper.”