Chapter Text
It started out just like any other battle for the Mercs. The gang was setting up their usual defences, probably Dustbowl. Engineer had already started out on a teleporter next to their spawn, Heavy was with Medic inside discussing something concerning the Über, and the Sniper must have set up a spot somewhere because Scout couldn't see him. Spy was also gone, to Scout's relief, which wasn't unusual either. Scout had last seen Demoman drinking something strong, involuntarily listening to Soldier babbling on about some American constitution mumbo jumbo. Last but not least there was Pyro, who was seemingly MIA.
Not that Scout really cared about them though. He shook his head. That freak wasn't anyone you could count on anyways. He started sprinting ahead of his team, and quickly scanned his surroundings for anything unusual, while mentally trying to keep track of the countdown until the battle would start.
24… 23… 22…
He set course towards a dilapidated 2 story building as he manoeuvred the landscape, hoping for a good vantage point.
21… 20…
Running up the stairs, he was startled by the familiar lanky, tall shape of his Australian teammate.
"Oh geez, man! You freaking scared the crap outta me!" Scout whispered angrily.
The Sniper didn't even turn to look at him, only greeting him with a side glance.
"Sorry mate," Scout noticed his sniper rifle was leaning against the wall next to the window, which was odd. Sniper was usually past this stage of scoping out the area this close to the game starting, but instead was looking through a pair of binoculars carefully aimed at the enemy spawn. Scout walked up next to him.
"What's da' matter? Did ya see sum' weird or whatever?" The Boston man asked.
"Oh nah, is probably nothing," Sniper replied, but his eyes remained fixed on the enemy spawn as he switched to his rifle's scope. Both of them jumped by the crackle of Scout's radio. The sound of their Demoman Scottish accent blaring through his headphones.
"Where are ye lad?! Get yer behind over here, we'll be starting soon!"
"Agh, alright alright! I'm comin'!" He barked back, and quickly turned down the volume on his headphones with a pained expression. From the speakers somewhere in the distance, Scout could hear the director's familiar voice starting to countdown from 10 seconds. Scout stole one last look at the enemy spawn, trying to figure out what was bothering Sniper so much. But he still couldn't catch anything out of the ordinary. He shrugged and started running out the building, back towards his other teammates.
9… 8… 7...
Scout could feel the adrenaline coursing through his blood hearing the countdown, as he jumped over rocks and other terrain, soon seeing the familiar red wear of the mercs.
6… 5… 4...
As he got closer, he started making out their faces. Demoman was approaching with his sticky-bomb launcher in hand, psyched to blow the enemy team to shreds. Next to him was Soldier, carrying his rocket launcher with his staunch expression ready as always. Not too far behind them was Heavy, with Medic in tow, who was already preemptively using his medigun.
3… 2…
The familiarity of the sight calmed whatever concerns he had about today's battle, brushing away the weird encounter with the Sniper. As he fell into position next to his teammates and pulled out his scattergun, he was ready. Yeah, he got nothin’ to worry about!
1...
His last thought before the chaos erupted, once again returned to the missing Pyro. Where the fuck was that weirdo?!
Pyro was still lying in bed, snoring, when the countdown ended.
While Pyro wasn't as mentally present as his teammates, they usually managed to get up on time thanks to their love for their ‘job’ . But this time, Pyro had struggled more than usual to get the sleep they needed to wake up with their alarm clock. Sleep was usually never a true respite for the fire wielder. They often had the pleasure of dealing with the horrors of his past while unconscious. On the rare occasions of peaceful nothingness, they woke up just for seemingly no reason in the middle of the night. They were used to it by now; or at the very least had learned to expect it.
This night however, was different. They had woken up multiple times struggling to breathe. No amount of pillows or sleeping positions seemed to fix it. They had gotten so annoyed with their own lungs that they finally had just passed out tossing and turning, unfortunately not until the morning sun started rising. And so, when the alarm started blaring at its usual time, they simply slapped it off the table. Not even the shouting and chatter in the corridor outside his room by the other mercs could stir them from their restless slumber.
What finally got them to wake up with a start was the shouting and bullets from the battlefield. They flew up out of bed and could see through their tiny, scratched up window that all the action had started without them. They grabbed their gas mask off their night table and clumsily threw it on while reaching for their rubber suit inside their closet, causing them to stumble and fall face first on the floor.
They groaned in pain but were quickly back on their feet again and did their best to zip up their suit. With their trusty flamethrower in hand, they were finally ready to go. As they exited their room and jogged through the empty corridor, they did their best not to get lost by closing their eyes and focusing on their teammates' cries and gunfire.
And then something strange happened. As they excited the base and opened their eyes, they saw their teammates... Retreating? Before they could even make a noise their Engineer ran past back into the base, bumping into them in his haste.
"Ah, sorry there, pal." He quickly apologised but kept running. Pyro saw that he was cradling his precious tool box, it looked as though the turret had been hastily stuffed in there.
"Move, move, MOVE!!! Get out of 'ze way, you imbecile!"
Before poor Pyro could react they were forcefully shoved aside from the door by the Medic and fell flat on their ass. The Medic seemed very stressed, he was helping Heavy to carry Soldier, who both seemed worse for wear. Soldier was limping while Heavy was bleeding a LOT from his chest.
Pyro was very puzzled, not by the gore or being forcefully pushed aside. What concerned them was the doctor's and the engineer's failure to seemingly mend the mercenaries on the battlefield. That was at least the conclusion Pyro drew.
" Where the bloody hell where ye?! " They suddenly heard Demoman yell. They saw that the scot was patching up a bullet wound on his arm while running to the still sitting Pyro.
"It's a real mess out 'ere, something is wrong!" Demo continued. He grabbed Pyro's gloved hand and helped them up.
"Mmohmph-?!" Pyro didn't have time to attempt phrasing a muffled question before they were cut off by the voice of the Sniper.
"All of the living ones scattered like bugs! I couldn’t get any of ‘em in this storm."
The Sniper seemed in better shape than the rest of them, he had to stop to catch his breath while leaning on his knees. Pyro started having a sinking feeling in their chest.
"Where's the bloody spy!?" Demo asked frustrated.
"He..." Sniper coughed. "I asked 'im to go 'n fetch Scout, but now I'm worried neither of 'em made it.."
"Aye..." Demo said, conflicted. "I think none of us got the strength to save any other than our own asses."
Pyro couldn't see much on the battlefield besides the dust blown up from the desert sand by bullets and explosives. Only distant shouts and flickers of movements by the enemy area.
"You!" Pyro was spooked by Demo's hand on their shoulder. "Lad! Eh… Lass…? Oh, could ye just have a quick lookie for 'em? Just scope out the precinct."
Pyro quickly gathered themself, nodded and made an affirmative "Mph!" sound. Just before they were about to rush into the desert another hand grabbed them by the collar.
"Hold on a sec' mate! You even got a clue what's going on?" the aussie asked, turning Pyro around.
"Of course not! They never do." Demoman shouted in realisation and sighed, rubbing his brow.
"Alright," Sniper paused for a second, trying to think. "Just… be more careful than usual..?" Demo shook his head, gave up and started heading into base while wrapping his wounded arm with more cloth. Pyro tilted their head looking at Sniper with a confused look.
"Look, just don't get shot, yeah? I think... The rules 'ave changed.."
Pyro nodded slowly, but felt a bit frustrated by the vagueness of it all. Pyro backed up and readied their flamethrower, heading out for battle.
"Oh! One last thing, if you find 'em... Well, let's just say not alive anymore, just leave 'em alright? It's probably too late now..."
And with that ominous statement, Sniper went into the base after all the others, leaving Pyro by themself outside with their thoughts running wild. The wind was picking up, shouting at them that this was a bad idea. Dust blowing over their optical lenses so they couldn't see, and sand finding its way under their suit scratching their scarred skin.
They simply brushed off the sand and gripped the flame thrower tighter, as they started making their way into the desert storm with determination.