Chapter Text
The darkness choked Scout, but he made no attempt to move from his hiding spot as he shuddered under the cloudless sky. They would find him eventually, he knew that much, but he couldn't bring himself to face them. Not yet.
Hollowness that had overtaken Scout as he lay there was being flooded with silence; screaming and echoing inside of his head. Scout hung his head and wished he had the energy to let out more than a silent sob, he wished he could scream and shout and fight until the silence was beaten out of him. He wanted to be strong when all he could comprehend was weak and echoed, his every breath like a candle flinching away from the darkness as it finally burnt out.
He was pathetic.
Lay there, his fear of the silence was ramped up to match his fear of getting caught. At least, if he was caught, they could scream at him and beat him and blame everything on him, and hell knows he'd be glad for it. He was already bloodstained, but not enough of the blood was his own. God, he'd do anything to switch the blood staining his shirt to be all Scout's own blood, and not his. He'd do anything to have ran a little quicker, shouted a little louder... Suddenly everything his lover had ever loved about him was a trap, a hideous curling one which waited until he needed them the most to only prove not to be enough. To prove that Scout wasn't enough - or maybe was too much. Way too much. But at least this stuff, his team, his friends who, without a doubt, hated him now, could bring him pain and screaming and anger. Anger was easy to cope with, Scout had spent enough time with anger to understand that. But silence was different. Silence would drag him down into the darkness, muffled, number than he already was until everything was a heavy static sapping away the brightness in his eyes, the brightness he had saved for him.
There was a footstep in the leaves, and Scout flinched further into his hiding place, curling up, making himself as small as possible. A muffled shout called out his name, but the Pyro was too far away to be a worry to him. The first shout was paralleled by another one, this time from Spy, who was getting close to where Scout was hidden. He wanted to tell him to go away, scream in his face, demand that he found some way to bring his lover back, and then run as far as he could, but that part of him felt broken now, defeated. It seemed that the talkative, loud part of him had died alongside his lover, and Scout could only wish that he'd died with them. His screams and shouts and the way he fought against his team restraining him as they dragged him away from battle had been that part of him dying, leaving behind the empty shell he was now, numb.
"Scout?" A voice asked softly; not a call like before, but a question, a test to see if he'd respond, perhaps, one which was aware of his location. Scout stayed silent, both unwilling and unable to respond. Crouching down beside Scout, Medic's face was illuminated suddenly as he pulled out a small vial of luminous liquid, a makeshift light source, and Scout flinched away from the light.
"Gott, Scout, you're shaking," the German muttered as he pulled off his coat, "let me help you, bitte, you don't have to see anyone else." The Medic tried to coax Scout towards his outstretched arms. Numbness having overridden his senses, Scout didn't try and resist Medic's arms, allowing him to drape his coat round his shoulders, barely even aware of his own shivering. As Medic helped him to his feet, Scout's legs gave way, collapsing into his arms, fresh tears stinging at his eyes as new emotions flooded back to him.