Box of Needles 3 Unfinished

Scout pressed his back to the wall, stumbling slightly over boxes of farming equipment and digging his does into the dirt floor underneath him. The world went silent again, and the boy finally allowed himself to exhale. He tapped the cool metal of his scattergun in contemplation. The sewers would be the next option, though he dreaded trekking through them. The water soaked through his clothes and slowed him down, and speed was the only advantage he had. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. Just as he was about to get his bearings, a figure appeared in the doorway beside him. Horror dawned on Scouts face as it was, of course, the one person he didn't want to see. The spy stopped in his tracks, his cigarette falling out of his mouth. Silence overcame both of them as they stared at each other in an awkward manner.

"Sc-scout," he said breathlessly. "I..."

Scout wasn't listening to his words. He was only considering bolting from the awkward situation that was surely to follow. They hadn't spoken since the awkward confession in the kitchen, and he sure wasn't about to start talking now. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to the spy. But he sure as hell was going to try.

'But wait, I just got shot at, so that means the Sniper is probably still-'

As the thought was still dawning on him, a sharp bang rang out across the fort. Every sense seemed to be separated and dulled as Scout opened his mouth to scream. There was no time to turn his head away as the Spy's brains splattered across the wall and floor and his limp body fell to the ground. The image branded into Scout's mind and burned and stung at his sanity. Only a tiny sound was produced from his throat, which had suddenly gone completely dry. The shock was followed by panic, which threw scout to his knees and made him reach desperately to pull his fallen comrades body away from the opening of the fort. It took every part of his military training to refrain from simply falling over his dead body. More short, stifled sounds came from his throat as he looked down at the horrific image lying before him. The sounds became louder until he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"H-HELP! HEEELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!" he cried, throwing his head up to the ceiling in a pathetic attempt to keep his tears from falling. "Please! Anybody....! Urgh...!"

He had used the dead ringer. The Sniper's round had torn through the small of his back, but it was close enough to the head that anyone looking from that distance would assume it had been an instant kill. As soon as it activated he felt the instant euphoria of his wounds repairing themselves, as he slipped away from his "corpse". Now that Sniper would never see him coming when he would lodge his butterfly knife into the Australian's back. Not only that, but he now had the opportunity to get out of the awkward situation presented by running into the Scout. But the sounds of horror that came from behind him told him that that would not be so.

The corpses that the dead ringer left behind were not perfect, but they were enough so that anyone who was easily shaken would be convinced by the apparent death of their team mate. Spy turned around, his ten second cloak of perfect invisibility fading, to see Scout, his body shaking with violent, erratic sobs. The boy's small hands took a hold of the corpse's larger hand and held it to his face, his tears straining the expensive fabric of the Spy's favorite gloves. Spy's conscious told him to run to the Scout and console him, but a tiny, selfish corner of his mind kept himself watching from a distance as Scout became further lost in his own grief. He was so mesmerized at seeing the boy's weakness that he didn't even realize that almost half the team had rushed to his side (well, besides the heavy, who was lagging a bit behind). The spy froze again as the team gave him small glances before turning to the scout whose cries had become even louder. They exchanged glances, wondering what he was getting so worked up about.

"Are you alright, Liebe?" Asked the Medic in a mothering tone, his medigun at ready in case the scout had been injured, as the Engie put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. The rest of the team simply stood off the the side, not used to getting involved with others and hoping their concerned faces would be enough to at least subside his crying. Scout threw himself into the Engie's arms, wiping his tears and snot onto the Texan's overalls.

"H-he's dead, man! He's dead!" he wailed, grasping desperately at his team-mate for comfort. "S-spy's dead...."

The team again exchanged looks, though this time they were painted with confusion.  "Dead? But just a second ago he was..." The team looked back to where the spy had been peeking around the corner to see that he was no longer there. "Stop crying, boy. It's alright. He ain't dead." The rest of the team shook their head in agreement, the announcer blaring her message of a ceasefire going right over their heads. Scout sniffed and looked up at the Engie , his face twisting to keep himself from bursting into tears again.

"I saw it with my own eyes....I was his fucking brains splatter against the wall! And now he's..." The boy had pointed to the corpse of his beloved best friend, but like the real Spy, it was gone. The discomfort between the team was almost tangible and Scout's face froze into one of horror. "....gone?"

"WHO MAKE LEETLE SCOUT CRY?" Shouted the heavy rounding the corner, holding his minigun threateningly. The medic ran to his side and patted his arm, whispering a few words to his large friend to calm him down. The heavy seemed to process it for a moment, and his arms lowered. "Spy? I see him just now. He looked as if he had just seen ghost."

In a split second, Scout was on his feet and pushing through his teammates and dashing toward the intelligence room. He moved so fast a cloud of dust built up behind him. Adrenaline pumped through his body as only one thought ran through his mind. 'Spy.'

He could hardly see anything in the blur of his speed, but the familiarity of 2fort made him run with an almost mechanical efficiency toward his goal. He stumbled up the wooden stairs and down the massive corridors moving at a speed that not even  Bonk Atomic Punch could give him. 'Spy!' His face, his smile, his laugh...He needed to see those things again. Tears formed in his eyes again as he pressed his eyelids together and screamed out his name. "SPY! "

Seconds later, stars littered the inside of Scouts eyelids as he ran into the bony frame that he was so familiar with. The man's arms wrapped around his shoulders instantly, cradling the fall as both of them slammed against the wall of the intel room. The younger man punched pathetically into Spy's stomach as they slid to the floor. He grew weaker with every swing, and eventually collapsed again into a crying mess. The Spy himself felt his eyes growing unusually moist. He couldn't avoid this any longer. He thought, honestly, it would be better if he really had just died. He would never have to look into those blue eyes again and feel the horrible pangs of unrequited love. He would never have to be tempted to reach out and wrap his arms around that small frame of his. He could forget the taste of that boy's lips that somehow still lingered on his own. But as this small, vulnerable boy stood in front of him, he realized it was hopeless to ever leave him. He would spend a thousand years if necessary in excruciating pain, pining over something that could never be. All for this boy that he had met in the middle of a god damn war.

Spy, with his back to the wall, reached out hesitantly to touch the Scout's shoulder. He flinched, but relaxed as the leather covered hand rubbed him gently. "I do not know what to say," he murmured darkly, ashamed. The boy kept his gaze on the floor, refusing to look into the eyes of the man that he thought was dead only minutes ago. However, he did press his cheek softly against the gloved hand on his shoulder. The Spy decided to take it as a good sign.

"I...was careless...I thought you would recognize that I was using the dead ringer," he said slowly. A small sob was his only response. Both his hands reached out to lift the face of his former lover to eye level. His face was red and wet with tears. The scout bounded backwards and tuned his face away again.

"D-don't...don't look at me. It's fuckin' embarrassing." He said, recoiling like a scared puppy. A small, tired smile formed on Spy's lips in response. "I was so scared. I looked like an idiot because of you! The guys probably think I'm crazy now."

"Why were you scared? Would it not be better if I were gone?"

Spy received a small glance from the boy, though his back was still turned to hide his embarrassment. "Why would you even say that, french fag...?" This time, Spy's voice seemed to be detached from reality, and with another glance Scout noticed that the spy had become invisible.

"No...never mind that. It was nothing." Said the voice, dancing around Scout's ears. "It would be better if I were. I know this. I've caused you nothing but trouble. If I-"


Spy's monologue was stifled by the sudden sensation of lips pressing against his own. The kiss was messy and unexperienced, but the passion behind it was undeniable. The passion dulled his senses and he closed his eyes to welcome the tiny frame pressing against him. He didn't care what the reason was, any kiss from this particular boy was enough to send him into a state of ecstasy. A few seconds which felt like years passed, and the shorter man pulled out of the kiss to look up at the man that had caused him so much grief. He pushed back the urge to sob again, looking bravely into his eyes.

"I thought I lost you. I would have never gotten to tell you...tell you that I..." He stopped abruptly, clutching at the Spy's jacket and fingering the fabric as if he were contemplating his next words.  Finally, placing his hands on the older man's shoulders and standing on the tips of his toes, he whispered it softly and almost seductively into the Spy's ear, as if there were people around to listen. "...I....love you." When Spy only looked at him blankly in response, Scout laughed nervously and removed his hands from his lover's shoulders. "Uh, so yeah, that's how I feel about you. Fag. I know it took a while for me to say, but I can't have ya moping around and whining like a pussy, you know? You act more like a girl than I do sometimes."

"You are the most wonderful thing in this world, Scout," Spy said softly. The weight lifted off his chest combined with the elation made him feel like he could fly over the moon. The younger man blushed and turned his head, but kept his eye's focus on the spy. "It is a bit crass, but may I hold you?"

"Uh, sure, yeah. Go ahead, man."

He wrapped the Scout in his arms, coddling him almost like a child. Several soft kisses brushed across the young man's temple as he soaked in the most comforting feeling he had ever experienced in his life. There was really no other word for this feeling but love.

"I have another, more serious request." Said Spy in a sharper tone, looking down at his lover. He looked back at him as if to ask, "What's that?"

"Tonight. Do not lock your door."

Scout's skin flushed as he immediately thought of the implications there. "Y-you don't mean..."

"Oh, but I do. I want to give my lover ever imaginable pleasure in this world. I will make you feel like you never have in your life, mon petit..." He grinned and nibbled softly at the younger man's ears.