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Perched up on the highest floor of a hollowed out and partially destroyed tower, BLU Sniper defends the last objective. He's hidden in the shadows in the tower. Picking off his enemies one at a time.
Headshot on RED Soldier. The body fell in a pitiful slump right off of the objective.
Reload.
Shot through the neck on RED Scout. The kid starts gurgling up spit and blood as he drops his weapon to hold his throat together.
Reload.
Another in the mate's temple. The Scout keels over into the dirt, painting it a dark red. His hat flies off and lands a few yards over. Some of these blokes are quite resilient to bullets, Mick chuckles.
Reload.
Between the eyes on RED Heavy. His Medic yelps as his headless body is pushed back onto him due to the force of the impact.
Reload.
Same for the RED Medic. The bodies collapse together in a pile.
Out of bullets.
The Australian curses as he reaches down to find he was completely out. He checks his other pockets, double checks, and huffs when he figured he had to find a resupply crate somewhere. He was on damn good roll with his kill streak, with those REDs constantly rushing into the objective. To have to stop now was just plain awful luck.
The REDs have been constantly rushing towards the last objective they need to capture for God knows how long. Their Scout and Pyro have been a quick couple in capturing the others, while the Heavy and Medic duo cleared up any stragglers BLU had left after the quick captures. The war was starting to drain both teams by now. The constant loop of death and rebirth was bound to tire them out, as well as the constant beating of heat the sun is giving to the men. RED is starting to get sluggish and tired, while BLU is hoping for an opening to even the playing field with no avail. With the constant need to run back to respawn or to Engineer for health and ammo, the match feels like it's on a permanent standstill.
Mick's nest has a broken window that looks over the last objective and one of the alleys that the REDs run down. Shaded from the heat, the sniper had been a wall against them, picking off RED after RED. He's been solely focused on this alleyway for what must be most of the match. The REDs just kept coming, and he kept shooting. One-by-one, they each get a taste of lead.
Sniper rose from his crouched position, knees popping with displeasure. The window was a slightly lower one, and to protect himself from the RED Sniper, he had put himself into an uncomfortable crouch. His knees buckle slightly, blood rushing back into them. The nearest resupply crate was on the ground floor of the tower. It wasn't a large one, with only a handful of bullets in it, but it will have to do if he wants to get back quickly. He's really banking on his teammates to figure something out while he holds this last point. Soldier's a strategist, he reckons, surely he's figuring something out. Maybe send in the damn spook and pray for a miracle.
Turning around from the window, Mick nearly trips as his foot kicks something off deeper into the room. It thunks as it rolls around on the hardwood of the tower. It rolls away from him, and Sniper is quick to realize his own demise is approaching.
How the hell did he not notice a drunk Scotsman shooting sticky bombs all around him?! Was he that focused on the alleyway? He swears out loud as he reaches for his SMG.
God, he really was so oblivious sometimes. He's a Spy's easiest target, he's the RED Sniper's quickest headshot, an easy kill for any Soldier, and now this bloody Demoman-
The last thing he saw in this instance of his life was the RED Demoman smiling a wicked grin as he pressed the trigger on his launcher. The bloke's laughter rang louder than the explosions that tore the sniper into pieces.
(As Mick lived and died in the subspace that was respawn, the picture of RED Demoman burned into his mind. With his head unable to feel anything else, he held onto the image.
His beanie was snug on his head, with some black hairs peeking out and curling. The hat looked knitted, perhaps a loved one made it for him. It looks well loved. Around the edges showed the age, as yarn was starting to unravel. Mick has only seen him without it when he's shot the man's head off. The beanie always ends up just a few feet away.
His nose and chin were sharp. His face bore pure man. Sweat and grime were covering his skin slightly. The heat of the sun must of been starting to wear him out. Maybe he ran to the tower for the shade it provided, hoping to cool off and escape the rays. Maybe the intensity of the constant war for the last objective was starting to get to him, and he saw the tower as a moment of peace in the madness.
He only had one eye, with an eye patch protecting the other. Even with the sole eye, Mick could see the mix of glee and tiredness on the man. The adrenaline rush of a kill, the hope of maybe this will finally end the endless battle, this death of this one sniper.
The man's lips were chapped and slightly red. Teeth marks were fleshed into his bottom lip. Worry from the match or excitement for an explosive kill, Sniper couldn't say; however, the RED's toothy grin burned bright into his mind. He was ecstatic about the kill. He was hungry to see his enemy gibbed. He was so fucking excited about sneaking up on the assassin. The thrill of the perfect kill.
Mick would rather die than admit that the man's smile was absolutely beautiful. It grabbed at him, this excitement. The Demoman completely and absolutely loved his job. Sniper would say he liked his job as well, but after this? Compared to him? Has Sniper ever felt anything close to what that man felt from just killing him? He can't say.
Mick has always seen his job as a mercenary as something that he needed to do. He was a murder-for-hire. People will pay lucrative amounts of money for a quick and easy kill, and he's damn good at it. Whether he found Mann Co. or not, he would be killing. He can't say he didn't find the whole respawn mechanic a bit off-putting and jarring, but it provided for him and his family and then some. The job itself was not something meant to be enjoyed by him. It's a job, for crying out loud. Sure, before his time as a BLU, during some of his more 'intimate' or 'intense' contacts, he felt a rush once his target was eliminated- it's bound to happen. Adrenaline pumps him up. He thought that was as thrilling as being a mercenary could be. He thought the most fulfilling part of his time here would be the financial stability.
He was wrong.
But he wants to learn.
He had never gotten that close to the enemy demolitions expert before. He has never needed to before.
But now he needs to.)
When he finally respawns, it's to an announcement of defeat for the BLUs. Soldier, who was just outside of respawn, yells and throws his shovel down. Ahead of Soldier was a long alleyway that showed a peak of the last objective; the one they have been defending for. From Resupply, Mick can see a handful of REDs gleefully chortling and jarring with one another. Scout woops into the air as Pyro claps gleefully. Medic wipes sweat from his brow as Engineer approaches Demoman, clapping him on the shoulder. Mick can't hear what the engineer is saying to the Scotsman, but he feels his chest pang with something as he sees the man laugh. It echoes around the objective and down the alleyway towards BLU Resupply. The RED's laughter pierces his head.
He sees Soldier scoff at the sight and turn back towards Resupply. Sniper catches his eye as he points towards him, screaming, "You better have a good reason why you were NOT defending the objective or I swear to Lady Liberty I will gut you and your kangaroo wife, MAGGOT!"
Sniper barely gives him a glance before he turns his gaze back onto the REDs. The enemy Demoman is smiling at his own RED Soldier, who's moving excitedly around him. Unlike the grin he gave Sniper just minutes ago, this one was softer. Sniper feels that same pang in his chest. He bites the inside of his cheek as he watches the two REDs talk.
"HEY! YOU RESPOND WHEN YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER IS TALKING TO YOU!"
The front of Mick's vest is grabbed as his attention is forced away from them and onto Soldier. The larger man has grabbed the Australian to force his gaze onto him, and is now borderline snarling at him. Sniper grimaces at him as he grabs his teammates wrists, pulling his hands off of him. "Ya bloody idiot, I was shooting down those REDs from the tower the whole match! Are you dumb or did you forget what a sniper's job is to do, mate?"
"I didn't see you at all on the battlefield, you hippie liar. Your cowardness disgusts me."
"Ay, so you are dumb. Who would've figured?"
Soldier reaches over again to grab Sniper's front with one hand, and winds his other arm back, fist clenched. Before Sniper has a chance to react or Soldier the chance to punch, a hand quickly grabs at the readied arm.
"Hey now, soldierboy, don't go fightin' battles you can't win."
Sniper and Soldier turned to look at Engineer. The Texan separates the two quickly, putting himself between them. Soldier looks absolutely furious at Engineer, "CAN'T WIN?! Are you BLIND, toymaker?"
"You really wanna fight a teammate, son? I don't think the ladies in charge will be mighty happy to hear about that."
"So what? You gonna tattle?"
"Nah, son. But this isn't gonna help with our mission. A good soldier doesn't forget the mission." Soldier closes his mouth with a tight lip. Engineer smiles sheepishly at Sniper, who cocks a brow at the Texan. "Why don't you head off, Snipes. I'll wrangle this bull, yeah?" He grabs at Soldier, turning him towards the door that'll lead towards BLU base. "Ya stoppin' by for dinner? I think Scout's cooking tonight, so I don't blame ya if you decide to stay in your van."
Sniper shrugs as he sees the two men leave Resupply. As soon as the door closes, he turns his head back towards where the REDs once were. The objective is now void of life, as is the rest of the once chaotic battlefield. The last evidence of the war that once was is the blood stains coating the dirt and Mick.
He doesn't know why he shrugged. He knows he won't show up for dinner, he rarely does. He really doesn't want to show up tonight especially. Mick doesn't know if he'll be able to look at BLU’s own Demoman. Not after today. He doesn't know who he'll see if he looks at him. Will he see the teammate who's he's been fighting and defending BLU with? Is his entire relationship with the BLU destroyed because of this one encounter? Was it really that easy to destroy?
As silence blankets the battlefield, Mick hears the Demoman's laugh echo and repeat itself in his head. He hears the verbatim in his cackle, the slight slur in his voice, the rush painting him and in so painting Mick. He wants to drown in it until the only thing he knows is him.
He knows he's already lost. He doesn't want to be helped unless the hand reaching for him is the one he craves; the one he needs. It's over for him. He'll fall forever if it means there's a chance that the RED is the one to catch him. It's over for him. He's willing to die a million times to see that smile on the man's face again. It's over for him. He'll walk through hell and worse if it gets him to look at him even once. It's over for him. He'll kill himself for him to get that rush, to get that smile back, to bring that man that joy he felt when he killed Sniper. It's over for him. It's over for him. It's over for him.
It's over.
Mick turned on his heel and headed towards his van. The silence followed, but it never reached him.