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Scout ran to the nearest closed area he could find, which happened to be Sniper's van. Just like he remembered it, dim and dusty. Though comfortable enough to be secure in.
The cracks of guns and machinery got quieter when he shut the door. Which automatically put him at a bit of ease, he slid down the wall and cupped his stomach. He felt like he could just simply explode , the anxiety that bubbled inside him felt like lava.
He looked down at himself, his taped hands covered in blood, matching the side of his stomach. He didn't bother with the blood, he let it sit on his body. Hoping it would eventually rot him away, leaving him nothing but bone.
He knew he wouldn't leave that place for awhile, he felt he was mucking up the walls. Coating them in blood and dirt, but he didn't care at the moment. Sharp pains shot up his legs, traveling higher up his body, he knew he was going to die tonight. Shit, he died every night. But this time, he wished it was forever. He wished there was no respawn most of the time.
Scouts whole body ached, he wished and wished it would just be over. But he couldn't handle another match, not now, not later, ever. His head felt heavy, like his thoughts were weighing him down, though it was probably just blood. Which stickly clung to his hair, drying in hard, flakey patches.
He thought of his friends, his family, everyone he had ever met. Would they miss him? Probably not, all he seemed to do was fuck things up. It's not like that was a secret. He's heard those exact words come out of their mouths. All you do is fuck up everything.
It was selfish of him to keep going on like this. Being able to focus on nothing but the pain he felt, which had now traveled to his entire body. Glazing his figure in agony, a distinct feeling that he was all too familiar with. Scout looked around the area, hoping to find anything that would tone down what he was feeling. He studied his gun longer than he would like to admit.
He spotted a blue bottle. A giant caduceus, placed on the center. He desperately tried to pull himself up, slowly at first, attempting to ease into the pain. His body grew hotter, more tender, struggling to get used to the movement. Praying Sniper wouldn't come back now, to witness his sad attempt.
Minutes went by, but he was up now. His stomach throbbing so badly he frequently looked down to make sure his organs werent spilling out of him. He snagged the body quickly and presumed his past position, unscrewing the lid and taking a handful. He thought more than once to chug the bottle, but he knew that would be a more painful way to go. At least more painful than what he was feeling now. He tossed the bottle to the side, he would try to clean up before Sniper came back.
The relief wasn't instant of course, but he couldn't definitely feel it. His head was ringing just a little bit less than before. As much as he tried to forget everything, he couldn't. He didn't plan on doing anything about it. He could feel his eyes begin to tear up, that's the last thing he wanted right now. But he couldn't help it, he cried. Choking on his own blood and tears.
For a minute it went silent outside. The only thing he could make out were mumbles, which were drowned out by his pule. He feared it was over, feared Sniper would walk in and curse him out. But he didn't, the noise picked up again, and he lay there. Back alone with the thing he hated most, his own mind.
He blacked out, for a moment he couldn't feel the sting. Couldn't feel anything. But when he opened his eyes, it was back. Less powerful than before, the Medicine must have been working. Or maybe he was just hoping it was. He couldn't tell anymore.
The sun was now getting lower in the sky, Scout started to feel a little cold. Though his side remained warm, he peeled back his hand to examine the gash. A thick layer of flesh hung off his stomach, no matter how much he wrapped and kept stabilized pressure - it continued to bleed. Not much longer now. His eyes began to burn, begging him to shut them.
The door swung open. It was silent for a while.
“Scout?” though he couldn't make out the figure, he knew who it was.
Scout didn't reply, even if he could, he didn't know if he would have. His eyesight remained foggy, he felt large hands scoop him up and place him someplace soft.
That's all he could remember.