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Soldier sighed, picking up the bottle of blue streak that sat beside his boot. “It's like we're speaking different languages.”
Pyro nodded sagely as he snipped the tip off of a fresh cigar and offered it to his companion. The lonely roost they'd taken overlooking the Coaltown left them a quiet space to converse as they kept watch for any sign of activity from the giant mobile Gray base sitting in the distant desert.
Robot attacks were a fact of life, a brutal, punishing near-assault that was draining their resources faster than they could have predicted. None of them needed the money. They could have all abandoned their jobs and gone off and lived comfortable lives of leisure. Save for Soldier, who had wrapped his money up in paying half of the mortgage on a damned castle, whatever good that did him now with a spectral roommate.
They worked because they loved their jobs. They love the opportunity to fight, to kill, to die, to use their unique skills and be paid to do so, and to enjoy immortality as they did it. They had all signed up to fight. They stayed when they became supermen.
The night watch was usually the purview of Sniper, but with the recent spate of late-night attacks, the man had not had much rest. It had shown that day, his shots sloppy in the haze of bleary eyes. So Soldier and Pyro had volunteered for the night's watch, and there they sat, a small tin-can fire blazing while they watched, keeping them warm in the freezing desert shadows.
Taking the cigar from his friend, Soldier grasped the thing between his teeth, holding still as Pyro lifted the can-fire to light it. He puffed a few times to get the taste of it, and exhaled through his nose, smoke quickly filling the small roost. “I just don't get how they can seriously think I was for real. Soldier, are we on the moon right now?” he mocked Spy's accent as he imitated his teammate. “Yes Spy, we're clearly on the moon. Just like I'm really a robot from the future sent back in time to kick your ass. Christ's sake.”
The squat firestarter beside him chuckled a bit at his imitation, nodding. His words, muffled as they were, came out clear enough in the closeness and the quiet. “They do it all the time, you think you'd be used to it by now.”
“I should just stop tryin', talk in plain language, but when he gets like that, talks down to me, I just can't help it. Snarky asshole. Then Miss Pauling gets thinkin' I'm some kinda loon and I just make it worse for myself. I tried to make her laugh, you know. When I teased her about thinking I was really a robot. I tried to make her laugh and she took me right at face value. I thought she was supposed to be real smart, Pyro!”
“I don't know, Solly. I just don't.”
“And then Engie. I don't even know what to do with him, Py.”
“You still haven't told him?”
“How can I? Everyone thinks I'm as crazy as you are.”
Gloved hands met hips, and annoyed grunt resonating inside the smaller man's gas mask.
“Kiddin', Pyro, kiddin'.”
“Yeah, well, you're going to have to tell him sooner or later, you know. The longer you wait, the worse our situation gets. I'm running low on my meds. Heavy's been losing weight. Spy's been in nic fits for days. I had to hide these cigars from him just in case. Who knows how much longer we can keep respawn running? Engie and Medic have spent all of their loot the past couple of days ordering parts for the thing to create redundancies or something. I don't know, I don't listen too hard when they get going. But, what I'm trying to say here is, how long do you think this is going to last? Do you really want to die out here in the desert knowing you could've had something beautiful but were too afraid to try?”
“Or I could bleed out on these sands when he breaks my heart 'cause he thinks the guy who belongs in a damned institution is head over heels for him and probably gonna try to wear his skin or something.”
“Well, you did collect heads.”
“WAR TROPHIES! It scared the shit out of the BLUs, didn't it?”
“It scared the shit out of everyone.”
“War ain't pretty, Pyro. No matter what those meds of yours tell you.”
The smaller man scratched at the top of his back, where mask gave way to flesh beneath the collar of his chemsuit. It wasn't so effective through a rubbery, flame-retardant glove, but there was no itch, just the simple muscle memory of a repetitious action that comforted him. “Look, all I'm saying is you have to try. You've got to resist the urge to get all dry and snarky with everyone and just come at him straight.”
Soldier snorted. “Nothin' straight about it.”
“Always forward, Solly.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Morning came swiftly, borne aloft by warming winds and a surprising quiet from the mobile base on the horizon. Entering the base to swap watches and grab breakfast, Soldier and Pyro passed by Engineer and Medic finishing up a discussion, the shorter man tapping at a paper attached to a clipboard, nodding.
Pyro mumbled a greeting and waved as he trotted by, tossing Soldier an 'I'm watching you' motion, pointing two fingers at the lenses of his mask before turning them on his companion, pointing at him. He quickly made his egress, turning down a hall and making a beeline for mess.
Seeing his friend flee, and Medic bid goodbye to Engineer and follow after, nodding a warm hello to Soldier as he passed, the military man found himself alone with the object of his affections. He grinned wide, then paused, dialing his expression back a bit to a smile as he approached the shorter American, who looked up to smile and greet him.
“Mornin', Solly. Watch go okay last night? I saw the temperature dropped pretty bad, but I figured Pyro would light the town on fire before lettin' someone freeze.”
Alright, nothing objectionable, no easy shots to take. This might not be too hard. Engineer wasn't known for being rude or saying dumb things. “All quiet, Engie. Unless you count the distant sound of robots cryin' for their mechanical mommies. We've got 'em scared to come down, now.”
“I'd like to think so, but with that... that Engiebot they've got now, we got a lot more to worry about. They've got a lot more tricks up their sleeves now. Plus, we won't be able to have you do Spy's job for 'im.” The laborer chuckled, a wheezing, chesty laugh that made Soldier almost unbearably warm. It was wearier, tired, but still the same jovial sound that the taller man had fallen in love with.
“I am a one-man army, simple as that.”
“You sure are,” he laughed, almost patronizing. Alright, so that joke came out too flat. Too dry. Best to stick with earnest words.
“Look, Engie, I gotta tell you something important.”
“Yeah, what's that?” the shorter man asked, cocking his head to the side like he was talking to a child. He hated when he did that. When he patronized him, humoured him, talked down to him like he thought he was an imbecile.
Because he did. They all did. Even his perfect Engineer. Sighing long and slow through his nose, Soldier had to work himself up, work himself past his resentment. How could he resent this perfect, smiling, gentleman before him?
“We're probably gonna die out here. The robots are getting stronger and we're getting weaker.”
Engineer opened his mouth to protest, but Soldier just shook his head, the straps on his helmet wobbling. “And if I don't say this, then I'm never gonna get the chance. And I'm not gonna fuck it up.” He took a deep breath. “Everyone here thinks I'm crazy. I say weird shit, I know. I'm loud and off the wall out there, because I don't know if you've noticed, but we're pretty much immortal, and dammit, it's fun. Heavy sings and you guys look at him like a damn leader, but apparently nobody can tell when I'm fuckin' with ya in a conversation.”
“Solly?”
“Look, Engie. This is gonna sound crazy, but I don't really care anymore. You all think I'm loopier than Pyro on a bad day, and I'm pretty much done with it. I ain't goin' down without a fight, and I ain't dyin' out here with any regrets.” He took a step forward, into the smaller man's personal space, and removed his helmet, his blue eyes shining in the dim light. “Engie, I'm in love with you. I want to hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to shove you up against that wall right there and never let you off of it.”
Engineer's eyes went wide. Soldier was sober, standing stock-straight, his fists in balls at his sides. He looked like he was ready to be sick. It was charming, in a twisted way. His terror, his trepidation, all being shoved forcefully down by his sheer determination.
“Yer serious.”
“For once, yeah.”
“Solly, I--” he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, “I don't know what to say.”
And there it was. No reply in kind, no quiet smile, no arms thrown around him and cries of, 'about fucking time you said something you big dummy'. Engineer was stunned and bewildered, and that was all. The air left Soldier's sails as quickly as they'd arrived, and he deflated, defeated. “Nevermind, I, uh, I'll leave you alone and hope I don't respawn next time I die.” He turned to leave, only for a gloved hand to catch his arm. Under the neoprene, servos twitched and whirred, carefully calibrated to squeeze just hard enough to hold, but not crush.
“Now why would you go jokin' again?”
“Again?”
“Or wasn't that sarcasm?”
“Sarcasm?” Soldier turned back, unable to process what he'd just heard. “Wait, you know I do that?”
“What, that you have the dryest delivery on God's green earth? Sure. I mean, it took a little while to puzzle out, but come on. I ain't a fool, Solly.”
Had he been imagining it? The condescending tone, the patronizing smiles, the pity for the sad madman? Had Engineer been earnest and kind to him this whole time? He felt ill. His stomach gathered itself up and decided to play tag with his liver and pancreas, his organs swimming sluggishly in his torso.
“What, you thought I was takin' you seriously? Come on, I'm not Spy.”
That gained a laugh, one they shared.
“Now you listen here, when a man needs a minute to process something like that, ya don't just chicken out on 'im. That's not the Solly I know an' love.”
And love.
“And love?”
Engineer grinned. “No, I'm fuckin' with you. Get over here an' kiss me ya idiot.”