Chapter Text
The sun had just crested the top of the sky, frying 2fort like an ant under a microscope. Spy stalked the shadows of the upper battlements on the smoke break he took during the midday ceasefire. The BLU team usually had enough dignity to stop killing them until the hour was up, but he kept his head out of sight in case their Sniper was feeling vengeful over this morning.
He checked his watch. Only one minute remained until the battle resumed. He headed downstairs to get in position, dragging hard on what remained of his cigarette and hoping the tiny breeze was enough to prevent smoke from sticking to his clothes. That Engineer was developing a pretty good sense of smell.
Spy ducked behind a tall crate just outside the battlements, flicking the chamber of his revolver. It was considered dishonorable to cross the bridge to the other team's base before the signal was called, so he waited out the remaining seconds in the shadows. He saw eyes glinting from the battlements across the canal. He could hear their Soldier loading his rocket launcher on the story above, and snippets of dark laughter filtered from the hallway behind him. Scout emerged next to his crate, bolting towards the bridge before Spy could register his footsteps.
"You morons ready for me to start smashin' your skulls in again?" he shouted, bat at the ready. "They're so fragile, they're like paper mache. Come at me with your big paper mache head, dummy, I'll reshape it for ya! Batta-swing! And don't think that gun's gonna - "
"Scout, the enemy Sniper is watching you," Spy interrupted from his hiding spot.
"So?" He didn't miss a beat. "Soon as we get the word, I'munna run so fast he won't get a chance to shoot, and then I'll run up the stairs like zoosh and come up behind him like WHAM! and boom, his head's paste. Then we'll see who likes gettin' piss in their - "
"He's got his crosshair on your forehead."
"Oh, crap." Scout ducked under the bridge awning, clutching the bat to his chest. A distant, Australian laugh echoed across the canal.
"You could benefit from learning a bit of subtlety," he said to an irritated young man. "Then perhaps your speed in battle would actually be of use."
Scout blew a raspberry in his direction. "Says the dummy who was just standin' there on fire while I capped yesterday!"
He did recall being broiled the previous night, flushed out once again by a zealous Pyro just before capturing the intelligence. But then the masked man whipped his head to the side to see Scout zooming down the hall, screaming about piñatas, and moments later his teammate was gloating with barely-earned victory while Spy was dripping with rotten milk. Begrudgingly, he preferred it to another trip through Respawn.
"Hmm. For once, Team Virgin has a point."
"What'd you say to me, Frenchie?"
Spy chuckled and withdrew a cigarette. Getting a rise out of Scout was lowbrow entertainment by his standards, but still great fun. His teammate looked like he wanted to smash his skull in for a change, but he hadn't forgotten about the Sniper and was stuck cowering under the awning.
"Man, screw this waitin'," he said after Spy failed to provoke him further. "I'm goin' to see where the rest of those losers are hiding." Wooden boards creaked in rapid succession as he took off down the bridge.
"Scout, don't cross just yet."
He called over his shoulder, voice fading as he ran, "Pffbbbt! Who do ya think you are, my da - "
Spy wearily watched him explode into bloody chunks.
"Oh, they're gonna have to glue you back together..." came a laugh from the BLU battlements. He sighed and pinched his nose. This was precisely why he'd stayed out of sight and on his own side of the base. Though they were still under ceasefire, their employers tended to overlook certain violations of etiquette, especially when the victim had deserved it. Still, he thought, poking through his disguise kit, he'd do his teammate a favor and give that Demoman an extended lunch break.
He checked his watch. 1:05. Spy blinked and furrowed his brow. He'd been so caught up with Scout's nonsense he hadn't even realized that the battle was five minutes behind schedule. The Administrator was always punctual, without exception. He continued to wait, patience waning, wondering if they'd even start before the boy returned to life.
Suddenly, feedback from the loudspeakers pierced his ears.
"Gentlemen," boomed a familiar dry, female voice. "We appear to have...a problem on our hands."
He could sense the confusion rising from both sides of the battlefield. Spy tensed. He'd never heard the Administrator sound so baffled.
"I won't bore such ingenious minds as yours with the technical details," she went on, "but until the situation is resolved, the ceasefire will remain in effect. Additionally, as part of maintenance procedures, the Respawn mechanism has been disabled."
Spy's eyebrows shot up.
"I shouldn't have to explain why it would be a good idea not to die at this time, so I will leave the finer points of judgement up to you. You are all dismissed until further notice. Good luck."
He'd cloaked before their employer had finished speaking and ducked back into the battlements, not risking any real death from the enemy. Respawn disabled? Since he'd come into the employ of Mann Co., he and every other man on the battlefield had been rendered immortal by that otherworldly mechanism. This suited him fine. But after years spent without the consequence of permanent death, to have it suddenly factor in amongst their everyday workplace hazards was... unsettling, to say the least.
He was eager to meet and discuss things with the rest of the team. Some of them would undoubtedly have the urge to try and knock off a few of their enemies for good, and the idea was tempting - he anticipated it, after all - but so obviously idiotic because the BLU team would be itching for the same thing. What could he say to deflate their over-confidence? Nothing, truly, in the case of Scout -
Ah, Scout. He had respawned, hadn't he?
Spy resumed walking at a slower pace and ascended the stairs in the courtyard. He couldn't know the exact moment Respawn was shut off. Had it been done before or slightly after Scout was killed by the enemy Demoman, then the express life of their teammate was in serious doubt. Their teammate, and unfortunately, his own son.
Yes. Spy was Scout's blood father. The fact that anyone knew this, himself included, haunted Spy every day. Scout did not and never would, if Spy had anything to do with it. Lord have mercy.
He did his best to keep their connection off his mind, with mixed success, but very rarely, there were situations where it became relevant. If Spy had just watched his son die, permanently and unceremoniously, he'd feel obliged to take it up with somebody.
Spy reached the second floor and cloaked, keeping his back to the corner outside the Respawn room. He wouldn't risk being accused of giving a shit whether Scout had survived a late resurrection. His teammates filtered past before his eyes, eager to leave the site of war, only once or twice stopping to look back for missing members.
Seconds passed under the hot sun. The sweat under his suit was cold.
Just when he was ready to start swearing profusely, Spy heard Medic stepping through the base exit, muttering in German under his breath. The shutter of the Respawn room opened and he went through it. Spy pressed his ear to the wall to catch any voices coming from within.
There was a rush of automatic doors and a muffled groan that sounded like Scout. Spy relaxed.
"Ah, I am glad you made it through, Kamerad!" came Medic's muted exclamation. "I saw you explode earlier and was worried you had crossed the other side, ha ha."
"Doc, you get hit in the head or somethin'?" Scout was perplexed. "You know we get brought back, right?"
"Ah-ha, about that! Death is permanent now!"
"Wait, what?!"
The voices grew clearer as they walked towards the shutter. Medic described the past few minutes in an almost giddy tone, and Spy listened as Scout began to take their situation seriously. Then the shutter door opened, exposing their voices with total clarity.
Spy peered around around the corner, still cloaked. Scout looked a bit pale. He slapped himself in the face.
"Brr-rr. Man, I am not feelin' so good all of a sudden."
"Probably just nerves," Medic said, voice dripping with excitement. "I understand your trepidation, friend. I am also afraid to die!"
"Well, I wouldn't say I'm afraid, exactly, I...Uhh..."
The doctor had started laughing maniacally. "Ah ha ha ha ha haaa! I feel alive once again!"
"Okay, okay, doc, I get it." Scout backed away slowly. "I'm, uh, gonna go to the barracks... get some rest, or somethin'. Maybe... maybe you should too."
"Oh, yes, that would be good." Medic snapped back to his normal self.
"...yeah."
Scout headed off in the direction of the base's living quarters. Medic stood ramrod straight until he left, and then Spy watched him slowly turn his body towards the courtyard.
"You can come out of hiding now, Herr Spy."
He uncloaked, masking his surprise with an aloof lean against the wall. "You knew I was here."
"Well, it was either you or a different chain-smoking ghost haunting our battlements."
Spy noticed the stub in his mouth he'd somehow smoked without noticing. He flicked it under his heel as Medic smoothly ducked inside the Respawn room.
"I see that nothing escapes your observation."
"Hahaha, thank you. But to tell you the truth, I did anticipate that you'd be interested in the question of Scout's survival. Someone else might call it a lucky guess..."
Spy lit his new cigarette with a prejudiced flick, eyeing him. "What exactly are you implying, doctor?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing." Medic cheerfully busied himself in gathering medical supplies from the locker, whistling. They both knew exactly what he'd meant. But Spy let it go.
"He mentioned he was not feeling well."
"Ah, yes. I wouldn't worry about it. Respawn sickness is quite common."
"But has anyone ever come through as the mechanism was being shut off?" Spy prodded him.
"Well, not to my knowledge, no. But if that is indeed what has happened, perhaps I should examine Scout for anomalies." His smile turned menacing. "It would certainly be fascinating to find changes in his physiology..."
Spy's facial expression conveyed that he did not agree.
Medic shrugged. "Well, I will keep an eye on him all the same. Good day, Spy."
"Doctor."
Spy watched him leave through the courtyard gate with an armful of bottles and bandages, white coattails flapping behind him. Scout was trailing behind their Soldier and Demoman when Medic advanced on him.
"Oh, Scout!" His voice echoed down the dusty road.
"Yeah, doc?"
"Could I trouble you to stop by my lab before you go? I just wanted to run some tests..."
"Uhhm..."
Spy lingered in the battlements for a moment longer, savoring a last cigarette. He suddenly had a bad feeling about the rest of the week.