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The feeling of rough fingertips gracing across lightly scarred skin, although with no purposeful sense of intimacy, the electricity it sent shooting through was enough to raise goosebumps, and frankly, it terrified him.
Jane Doe had never been one to let emotions distract him from his goals; "and he was not about to start now," he said to himself.
.. Although, that seemed to be an issue as of late. He had never really been one to.. fall in love, so to speak. He had always been too focused on the constant fights around him to stall, to think, to feel.
So as he felt his life-long, perfected identity crumble apart because of a lazy, good-for-nothing, five foot seven sissy who hid behind his toys, he was furious. Jane was a Soldier; a sculpted killing machine made to DESTROY the enemy, made to FLY through the air to land nothing but perfect gashes in the skulls of the other team with his shovel. Now suddenly, his jumps are getting inaccurate as his eyes linger elsewhere. His focus gets broken as he hears the voice of the other call about a nearby flanker over the headsets, or the occasional “much obliged” he’d let out when thanked. Even the occasional wheezy belly laugh he’d give upon the overpowered kill towards an overly confident scout.
Even worse, he found himself getting angry at the other when he saw him with others. When the Engineer would send a warm smile to Medic when they were rambling about--what was to him--unimportant garbage, or the steadying hand on the demoman’s shoulder when he had drunk just a bit too much. Hell, even the rushed thanks to Pyro on the battlefield when the little freak had managed to protect one of his buildings from the enemy spy.
Soldier was angry. He was angry at himself for being broken down to someone he never thought he’d be. He was angry at his team, and he was especially angry at him. Jane was half convinced that this had to be some sick, cruel joke. Was this Merasmus’ way of destroying his life?
“EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU WORTHLESS CAKE-BABIES SHOULD BE DAMN ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES.” Soldier felt the pit of his stomach heating up. He knew he hadn’t done his best on the battlefield today, which to him, was the cause of their loss. He would deny that fact, however. His scowl worsened when he heard a sarcastic snort from Scout.
“As if. We all saw yer’ losin’ focus all day. If any of us were off today, it would’a been y-'' Jane forced him up, grabbing the younger by the collar. Scout’s smug expression had been wiped off, now replaced with one of discomfort. “Whoa, whoa, relax! What tha’ hells wrong with you??”
"You wouldn't know what focus is if it was written on that bat of yours, maggot. What with you prancing around like a damn show horse as if it wasn't a battlefield. You're a shame to the name of war." His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, a snarl etched on his face. He froze, however, when he felt a gloved hand on his shoulder.
"Now, dontcha think yer' bein' a lil' rough on him hoss?" Those sweetly spoken southern tones danced through the air, cutting through the tensity of the situation. Jane realized his grasp on Scout's collar had loosened.
"Keep it to yourself, toymaker." He dropped the youngest merc, making him loudly protest at the rough treatment. Without looking at the rest of the team, he shook the hand off his shoulder and left them to go shower, feeling the stares lingering on his back.
He damned himself for caring whether or not Dell's were among those.
—
The sun had been setting, and instead of joining the team at the dinner table, he took his serving and brought it to his room. He had highly considered just fishing out one of his MRE's or canned goods that he kept stocked in case of emergencies, but he wasn't a little baby that avoided confrontation.
He was a soldier. It was his title, for God's sake. Soldiers didn't bend or break.
He shoved the rice and cheap meat into his mouth unceremoniously, planning on getting on with his routine as soon as possible. The knock on the door, however, made him scowl.
He grabbed a nearby shotgun before answering. Better safe than sorry.
People usually didn't "check in" on him.
As he opened the door he was greeted with a huff.
"Dangit, Jane, put the gun down, it's just me." Soldier didn't feel more calm.
"State your purpose." The Engineer grimaced mildly. He reached up and grabbed his hardhat in a way of showing sincerity.
"Ah'm worried about'cha, Soldier." He fiddled with the rim of his hat in his hands. "The bean-pole was right, ya' have been a little off recently. Ah know ya' don't normally get that physical post-battle." Soldier grimaced. His voice felt harsh in his response.
"That is none of your business, grease monkey." Jane felt his heart clench. Dell let out a sigh and grasped his hard hat tighter in his hands.
Private Doe felt panic rise up when the shorter man took a step into his quarters.
"Ya' know ah'm just tryin' ta' look out for ya' son." Jane grit his teeth. And so, he acted on instinct. This led to a bewildered Engineer pushed back, down onto the floor.
"I don't need your damn help," Soldier growled. "Or anyone else's, for that sake." And then he slammed the door, his whole body aching as the aggression behind the push almost filled his body with the sensation of ripples going through it.
He tried to forget the look on Dell's face that he'd seen before the door had separated them.
He was going to bed.
—
The next day didn't go much better. The BLU team was still kicking their ass, and his mind was full of how much he hated everyone else for it.
He knew, logically, that he was to blame. Normally he would own up to his lack in performance and work harder, but this had him messed up. If he had gotten sloppy with his rocket jumps, he could train for hours till he got it right. If his aim was off, he wouldn't let himself rest till it was perfect.
But never before had he had to deal with thoughts or emotions.
Soldier was in deep water, and he knew it.
After their loss, he had nothing to say to the team, just as they had nothing to say to him. The air in the changing room was tense with defeat, the lingering smell of gunpowder and sweat dancing with the humming of the air from the vents and the buzzing of the lights to create a horrid wave of over stimulation to his normally honed senses.
He had heard conversation picking up as soon as he'd left the room to head to the showers, not caring for their words as he just felt ready to wash all the grime off of himself. How he wished he could do the same with his shame.
The next day he was called in for a check-up. Of course he was.
"Can you tell me how you've been feeling? Any signs of illness or mental anguish?" Soldier growled, feeling pathetic sitting on the patient bed. How he could ask him that so casually while just shuffling through his papers.
"None of your business, Fritz." This was met with some disapproving tsk sounds.
"Actually, it is! Vhile you are here, I'm your medical doctor!" Soldier let out a small grunt.
"I- I've just been getting rusty. Nothing a little training won't fix. Can I go now, doctor?" He had stuttered. He never stutters. Medic made a click with his tongue before checking his vitals. Once he was done, he turned his back while writing things on his clipboard.
"Alright, go on." Soldier stood up, although paused when the doctor made a small cough. "Although you should know better than to lie, Herr Soldier."
He had never been out so fast before.
-
The next day was a rest day, and for a bit of normalcy he sat with Demo, sipping on cheap beer.
"Aye, it's good ta' have ye back lad!" He had cheerily announced to noone but the two of them. He clapped the other man on the back, making the Soldier put on a small smile. He had missed fun conversations about the war and, with a limit, life.
He did however not enjoy people getting nosey.
He could smell the whiskey on the Demoman’s breath as he leaned in, lowering his voice to a drunken whisper as if anybody was around.
"So eh, just between tha' two o' us, 'ave ye' been alright Solly?" Soldier considered sharing, although everything in his body said to leave.
He finally opted for not doing either, and lied. He was mentally whooping his own ass for doing so.
"I'm still as much of a killing machine as I was before." He paused. "Just have been falling behind on my training." He took a longer drink of the bottle. Demo made a grunt.
"Aye, whatever ye' say lad."
The room fell quiet after, and Soldier hated it. He couldn't even pretend that everything was okay.
It didn't take long for him to walk to the gym in the base to let out some steam.
-
He was tired, exhausted, even, at the amount of botherance he had about this. He felt like he had seen every single other merc give him looks or talk to him, meanwhile the Engineer, who was the one to leave his stomach in tight knots, has been hiding away when not on the battlefield.
This time it was the Frenchie, with his dumb thin cigarette (the obvious, superior choice was a cigar) and his hard to understand words.
"The administrator has been keeping an eye on you," he'd stated matter-of-factly.
"And what does she want?" He knew what she wanted.
"We have been losing a lot." He took a drag of his cigarette, and even that small action pissed off Jane.
"Get to the damn point, crouton." The spy huffed at that.
"I have a feeling that it may have something to do with a certain labore-" he was cut off by the hand grasping his coat collar and his back slammed into the wall.
"Do not speak about that. How many times do I have to say it to you people, I am fine." Spy didn't seem particularly intimated, mostly just frustrated.
"This suit costs more than all of your belongings together, so if you would please get your filthy hands off, that would be appreciated." His teeth were clenched, and his eyes hostile, his cigarette now burning out on the concrete. Jane dropped him on the floor, causing the Frenchman to straighten out his suit where it had previously been creased.
"I will leave you be, monsieur Soldier, but you shouldn't be pushing everyone away."
Jane was dumbfounded. He never thought the spy would ever give a rats ass about him, and this took him by surprise. After a moment of tense eye contact--as well as that worked with his helmet on--Spy turned around and walked away, leaving Soldier alone in the hallway, his heart pounding in his ears and his fists clenched.
He needed to train.
-
After a long training session where once more where his thoughts seemed to wander, it was only cut short by the descending of the sun creeping up on his sweat covered form. He sat down on one of the steps into the base, breathing heavily while staring at the sunset. His breath halted when he saw someone holding out a bottle of water next to him.
He looked up, feeling his body tense as he saw Dell standing there. A soft, but slightly strained smile upon his lips. His goggles were pushed up, showcasing his ocean-blue eyes, and while Soldier wasn't a romantic, he swore he could swim in them forever if the other let him.
"Ah' thought ya' might need some water," the other man explained. Jane muttered a thanks and grabbed the water, returning his gaze to the bright orange and pink sky, shuffling a little to the side as the engineer moved to sit next to him.
As they sat there, both staring at the sunset, Jane almost felt at peace, despite the cause of all of his troubles joining him in what was supposed to be an isolated time.
"Do ya' hate me?" Dell asked.
There was a pause. "I do. But I also can't stop thinking about you." Shut up, shut up, shut up. His heart was hammering in his chest, his face heating up out of shame.
Dell looked down, fiddling with his glove. The man was smart, but he still wasn't sure exactly what the Soldier meant. He let out a deep sigh.
"Ya' know, I ain't gonna sugar coat it, I'm not looking for a sappy teen romance-"
"Dear God, no" Jane retaliated with a grimace. He wasn't the lovey dovey type, even if his heart felt full of fondness. He put one hand in his lap, the other on his rocket launcher that laid beside him. "I'm just having all these idiotic feelings and I don't know what to do with them." He felt broken down. His restraints were wearing thin, and his spirit was broken down. His mind was both racing, but was also completely blank.
He felt his body stiffen as he felt the gloved hand once more, but this time, gently grabbing his own. He looked down, freezing as he stared at it. He then pulled it away from the other.
"I don't want your pity, Dell." Never did he use his name. The other man sighed once more.
"Dagnabbit, it ain't pity, Jane. Ya' have been driving me crazy with worry, ya' know that?" Soldier felt his face redden as he felt a warm, calloused hand tilt his face towards its owner, once more getting met with those knee-buckling eyes. "Ah' wanna give this a try, Soldier."
Jane hastily closed the distance between the two, harshly pressing his lips against the others. It wasn't perfect, or sweet, or magical, but it was theirs, and it was still making his chest tighten up with relief and care, but also fear and worry. He felt the other man smile into the kiss, pulling away to leave Soldier with a small laugh.
"Relax there cowboy, we got lotsa' time." He clapped the soldier's hand in his own two, turning once more to the sunset.
Finally, Soldier felt like he might start tomorrow's fight with confidence.