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No. 2244
A rusty door swung open, flooding the dim, windowless cellar with a warm, yet somehow malicious, red glow. A tall, slender man in a red suit and a mask strolled in, flanked by two stocky guards – one that was short, had overalls, and an orange construction helmet, and one that was bigger both in height, and in girth, wore slacks, a t-shirt, and a bullet-proof vest with ammunition slung over his broad shoulder, and had a stern face framed by a strong, triangular jaw. The top of his head was shaved completely bald, and his upper body was extremely bulky compared to his lower.

The shorter man was carrying around a box of supplies, and began laying them out neatly in a specific order on a stainless steel table in the midst of the room. While he was busy, the taller, bulkier guard paused and closing the dank cellar from the outside world and shutting and latching the heavy bolts. The man in the suit flipped open a cigar case, lit one up, and took a deep draw. He exhaled slowly, directing his cool, icy eyes at the shackled figure on the ground as his two associates.

The shackled form glared back boldly. “Well. If it ain’t the fat bald bastard, the skinny bald bastard, and the short bald bastard.”
“Bonjour.”
“Fuck off, ya shape-shiftin’ rat.”

“Pardon me, but I don’t think you are quite in the position to make demands, boy,” the man drawled in his heavy French accent, twirling his cigarette around between his fingers. “You’ve been, eh… ‘escorted’ to a secret facility of ours, over 800 kilometers away from the nearest BLU base, and I’m the only object standing between you, and a long, painful death.” the man casually pulled out a beautifully engraved revolver from the inside of his vest. “So I recommend you have an intelligent thought for once in your pathetic life, and cooperate.”

The boy shackled on the ground just snorted. He was around 19, and had short cropped hair that was looking pretty messy, with parts of it matted together as if he hadn’t been to a shower in a while. His wiry body was garbed only in a loose undershirt and a pair of blue camo-boxers. The bronze tan he sported was starting to fade slowly but surely from the lack of sunlight. However, he was covered with a layer of grime so thick, one could barely tell. The boy’s entire body was covered with harsh bruises, and his wrists and ankles were rubbed raw due to the tight shackles, but his blue eyes still burned with that cocky, resolute flare. Pity. It would have easier on the both of them if he’d just given up after the first beating.

“Yeah right, dumbass. I heard about you fuckin’ around with my mom. You really think she’ll let you anywhere near her if you had anything to do with my death?” the boy snickered in his quick, fast-talking Bronx accent.

“Heh…” The man took another long draw on his cigarette. “Just like a child. Hiding behind your mother’s skirt until the very end.”
A deep flush. “Y-Yeah right. I’m not hidin’ behind nobody – I’m just tellin’ you like it is.”
The man smirked nastily. “Do you really think this is the first time I’ve disposed of a relative of someone I’m physically involved with? Please. I’ll get rid of you quickly, and quietly, and when your body finally shows up, I’ll be there to comfort her, telling her that I did everything I could to save you. It’s not very difficult to convince people that you’re actually a good person. Especially if they very much desire to believe you.”

“Yeah, right. My mom would never believe ya, ya fuckin’ coward.”
“We’ll see. Now…” The RED Spy flicked away his half-used cigarette and pulled a fresh one from his case, lighting it up. The orange glow highlighted his gaunt, predatory face from below, casting many odd shadows over his face. “Enough stalling, boy. Tell me everything you know about the whereabouts of the RED intelligence.”

The Scout just smirked again. “Uh, buddy? I don’t know if you noticed, but… I’m just a Scout. What makes you think I know where they took that suitcase fulla junk? I’m pretty low down on the pecking order, ya know what I’m saying?”

His mischievous eyes sparkled, as if saying, “Yeah, I know something, but I ain’t telling you what it is.” It pissed Spy off to no end, but he couldn’t be seen losing his head. This was a job that called for cool, calculated ruthlessness.

“Well.” Spy calmly placed the revolver down on the table. “I suppose there’s no hope of reaching compromise civilly.” He snapped his fingers crisply to call his two assistants to attention. “Unchain him, restrain him, and bind his face.”

“Wh…What are you doing?!” the BLU Scout cried, growling as Heavy unlocked his chains and roughly seized him by his thin arms. He tried to fight back, but his arms were too weak from being weighed down from the heavy shackles, as well as the lack of movement for days on end. He found that he could barely move them. “Hey! Hey, let me go!” He tried to twist away and even tried to bite the two as a black cloth was tied around his face, making him unable to see, and barely able to breathe or talk.

“Hold him.” The Spy’s measured footsteps drew ever-closer as his two assistants forcibly pressed Scout to the cold stone floor, pinning him by his neck and limbs.

Suddenly, a rush of ice cold water flooded his senses. Scout screamed and tried his best to wrench away, but Heavy forced him still by brutally twisting his arm in on itself. More water poured down, sending his body practically into convulsions.

Scout had never been afraid of water before – hell, swimming was one his favorite hobbies after running and playing ball. But this… This was something straight out of a nightmare. It was starkly reminiscent of the swimming accident he’d suffered when he was eight or nine. It felt like he was drowning.

There was nothing that he wanted to do more than to suffer the abuse silently and laugh in that masked freak’s face and boast how there was nothing that creep could do to make him spill the beans, but… Holy hell. He was already shaking like a leaf during a violent storm, and, God, he knew it was just starting.

He wanted to cry. A beating, he could take. This was… something completely different. But still, he had to keep quiet. Whatever this fucker could do to him was nothing compared to what his own team would do to him if he gave away the location to that stupid suitcase full of crap.

God, what had he gotten himself into?


~~~~~


*Newfag*
I just found this site yesterday, and fell in love immediantly. I was planning on lurking, but I had this story taking up space on my computer, and wanted to see if it garnered any interest.
This is all I have so far. Sorry for Spy's lack of Frenchness. I'm good at portraying most accents, but the French accent is lost to me.
And, um... There's a possibility of porn later on, so I'm putting this here. I'm not TOO fond of sub!Scout, but everyone's game in a world where friggin' testosterone flows like wine.
>> No. 2246
oo, torture. and i like the way you write the characters (the accent doesn't quite matter to me). you have my attention :)
>> No. 2247
This is looking good! I can't wait to see what else you do with it. And I didn't even notice the lack of a French accent.
>> No. 2249
This police-blotter style description (height, build, hair color) distracts from the narrative. We already know what the classes look like. It's better to just start with "The RED Spy and Engineer blah blah blah" and sneak in descriptives later.

The first paragraph is the hook to the rest of the story. Even if you're using an omniscient narrator, give it more punch. I'd almost start the story with the Scout being waterboarded--that drops us right in the middle of the action, and now we're curious. What happened? Will the Scout hold up? Will he survive?
>> No. 2250
Thanks Dotchan. I shoulda deleted that part with all the description of the characters. This was previously written for an audience that might not be familiar with TF2. (I'm coming hot off the heels of an animu fandom, and transition is a little shaky.) Even then, it's still pretty bad. I am hitting myself for not proofing this first.

Thanks for the hint to start off with more action. Next time I'll do just that.
>> No. 2251
Very brutal, very interesting.

The Scout comes off as hard-bitten, yet is still innocent enough to think of his team-mates' potential anger before the fact that the enemy Spy cannot POSSIBLY release him alive to tell the tale now, whether he gives up the location of the intelligence or not.

The scout's strong though. Determined to stay on the more testicle-implying side of the boy/man line, yet young enough to be uneasily aware that the line is THERE.

Don't sweat the French accent. Spies of many nations are trained in misleading their targets by the use of false accents, and one of the signs you're REALLY screwed when dealing with a spy is when he's so confident you will never live to tell the tale that he doesn't feel the need to USE the usual false pretenses.

I like this.
>> No. 2252
Aside from what dotchan pointed out, I really like this and am interested in seeing more.
>> No. 2253
I'm eager to see more of this!

Oh, and the thing about descriptions- it's not a bad thing to keep your hand in. After writing so much TF2, where everyone knows what all the characters look like, I've found that my character-description skills have atrophed.
>> No. 2254
Thanks everyone for your input! It really means a lot to me!

Otherhazards, the thing about the Spy getting so cocky that he doesn't even try to use a false accent? Err.... That's EXACTLY what's going on! Yup! I planned it just like that, yessiree. <<>> But yeah - thanks for your compliments! I don't think I really deserve all the praise you gave me, but I appreciate it.

T.Marty, yeah, that's one of the problems with writing for fandoms. It's SO easy to get lazy since everyone knows the characters already. Like I said, I was in an animu fandom for YEEERZ before I got into TF2, so I just this was more of an experiment to see if I could still actually DO description without it taking away from the story or being clunky. In the end, I totally failed, buuut w\e. I just need to get my writing chops back to speed. Thanks for wanting to hear more! I'll be sure to get ta writing for ya'll!
>> No. 2321
don't you dare cockblock me like that.

continue please
>> No. 2323
And then my day was made.

For the love of god, if you don't continue I may kill myself.
>> No. 2384
Thanks, Ginger and Detlef! I've picked this up again, and with any luck, I'll have an update on Sunday... ish.

Hopefully. Don't quote me on that - I'm horrible with sticking to deadlines. But as much fun as I've been having writing this, I don't that'll be much of a problem this time!
>> No. 2476
I really don't think you need to worry about the description. It didn't get in the way for me when reading it. It actually really annoys me when people just throw in characters without even throwing a sketch of them - seems like lazy writing.

The malicious-red-glow stuff means you're sucked in right from the off. Gets you picturing the scene and wondering what's happening inside it.

Me like!
>> No. 2515
Thanks, Anon! Um... The next chapter isn't completely done (school's gettin' all up in mah grillz, and my personal life is blown to shit right now, auuugh), but I might as well show what I have so far. On an unrelated note, this is great stress relief.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He wanted to cry. A beating, he could take. This was… something completely different. But still, he had to keep quiet. Whatever this fucker could do to him was nothing compared to what his own team would do to him if he gave away the location to that stupid suitcase full of crap.

God, what had he gotten himself into?

The boy twisted violently, some primal instinct within him springing alive, demanding that he not die without a fight, at the very least. The massive Russian bear growled and jerked him back into place, nearly dislocating Scout’s left arm in the process. The boy gave a startled yelp in response, but was soon cut off by the unforgiving torrent of frigid water the Spy was pouring in his face.

After what seemed an eternity, the water stopped, the cloth ripped away from his face soon after. The boy gratefully gulped in a lungful or two of air, coughing and sputtering. His shirt was plastered to his thin chest, showing his ribs as he sucked in breath after laborious breath.

Spy tsk-tsked, examining a fancy gold pocket-watch attached to a chain. “Oh, please, boy… After all of that big talk, I would have expected you to make it to at least thirty seconds.” Another one of those slimy, shit-eating smiles.

The BLU Scout couldn’t even muster the effort to offer one of his vain, snide remarks in return. All he could do was glare up at the older man, eyes smoldering with weak hatred, teeth chattering with the cold and dull fear as Heavy shackled him up once again.

Spy slowly raised one of his eyebrows, and replaced his pocket watch within the folds of his suit. “That…” he began, taking another draw on his cigarette, “was just a taste of what can be expected if you do not talk. And also a warning. My threats are not to be taken lightly, you illiterate street rat.”
“I meant what I said. I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’,” Scout whimpered, voice cracking. He couldn’t help but dread whatever that psycho had planned next.

Spy snarled, and roughly grabbed the boy by his cheeks. “This is not a GAME, you pig. You WILL tell me what I need to know, or—”
Suddenly, Scout jerked his head away, and snapped at Spy’s hand, biting down viciously on one finger. He hadn’t really meant to – it was mostly instinct. He was just SO determined to show that bastard to be careful where he put his hands – there was some fight in him, yet.

Spy howled, jerked his hand back, and promptly backhanded Scout for such a show of insolence. “You DOG!” he snapped, trembling with shock and rage. It didn’t hurt him much – he still had his thick, leather gloves on, after all – but the AUDACITY of that little wretch to…

He sneered once again at the boy. “It’s time someone do something about those deplorably crooked teeth of yours, boy. Engineer!” he snapped, removing his expensive, leather gloves and stashing them in his coat pocket. They were promptly replaced by thin, latex ones. “The dentistry instruments, s’il vous plaît. Quickly, now.”

Scout’s stomach dropped. God, he hated the dentist. Always had. His teeth were really messed up for a reason. “Y…You touch me again and I’ll bite your fucking nuts off next – I mean it!”

“I’d like to see you try,” Spy chuckled mirthlessly, as the Engineer wrenched his jaws open. Paying no heed to Scout’s protests, he hooked an oral speculum in his mouth so that biting would no longer be an issue.

Scout growled and twisted, trying to work the thing out of his mouth, but Heavy was quick on the scene to hold him still once more.

“Light, please.”
Engineer, now standing from a slight distance shone the light into the Scout’s mouth so that Spy could see what he was doing.

Scout coughed forcefully into Spy’s face, glaring and trembling with fear.
Spy shot him an unimpressed look, donned a spare surgical mask, and snapped his fingers. “Pliers.”
Scout’s blood turned to ice as he watched the Engineer hand over a rusty, wicked looking pair. Shaking, he tried to twist away, but Heavy held his face rigidly in place.

Spy began poking around nonchalantly, an unimpressed expression on his face. Scout was watching him intently, eyes wide with unspeakable terror. Every time he felt the cold, harsh metal clank harmlessly against the hard enamel of his tooth, his entire body went taunt as a rope.

“Let’s see here…” Spy hummed idly, continuing to prod at the boy’s mouth. He was at a bit of a bind here. As much as would have liked to rid himself of the boy’s repulsive, crooked incisors, he didn’t want to risk making the boy’s already inarticulate mutterings even more difficult to understand. He didn’t want to finally get a confession out of the boy and be completely unable to understand a word the dolt was saying.

Suddenly, the man’s ice-blue eyes flashed. “Come closer with that light, Laborer.”
The Engineer shot Spy a quick glare of contempt, but inched closer so that he could see what he was doing.

Scout couldn’t see the shit-eating smile on Spy’s face, but the bastard’s eyes spoke volumes by themselves. “I see you have matured enough to develop wisdom teeth…” the man chuckled, prodding at one. “What luck. I hear they’re the most painful to extract.”
Scout felt his breathing getting shaky and irregular. It was all he could do to not scream and beg for mercy. This was a nightmare. Unable to control himself, he began trembling once more. His wide eyes, glassy with unshed tears, were silently pleading for mercy.
The Spy just smiled at him from behind his mask.

“Last chance.”

Scout whimpered as he felt the pliers loosely grasp his bottom-right wisdom tooth. Shaking with absolute terror, he scrunched his eyes shut, and waited for the consequences of his decision.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~


I promise - slash comes later. Swear to mum.
>> No. 2516
This is dark and twisted and I love it!

Sorry to hear about real life being a pain. If it makes you feel any better, reading this is some stress-relief for me.
>> No. 2538
Thanks, Anon! That does make me feel a little bit better, because, trust me, writing this has been stress relief for me, too.
>> No. 2693
This is still technically chapter one. WTF, self. Stop failing at everything.
Summer starts soon, so hopefully I'll get more work pumped out then.
Not sure exactly how I feel about this update, but... eh.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Last chance.”

Scout whimpered as he felt the pliers loosely grasp his bottom-right wisdom tooth. Shaking with absolute terror, he scrunched his eyes shut, and waited for the consequences of his decision.

Suddenly, Spy’s left hand was grasping the boy’s skull in an iron grip, and a foot planted itself in his chest.

Then excruciating pain. Spy clamped down forcefully with the pliers and wrenched as hard as he could, disregarding the blood spurting out of the boy’s mouth. Scout howled and tried his best to wrench away, fighting as hard as he possibly could.

Scout was expecting pain, but not pain like THIS. And certainly not those horrid SOUNDS. Even over his shrill, panicked screaming, he could hear alarming popping and tearing sounds as the tooth was ripped away from bone and vital nerves. The taste of bitter copper was upon his tongue in no time at all, and sooner, still, Scout found himself choking on his own blood and spittle.

He was hyperventilating. His chains rattled as he tried to blindly claw his way out of this hellish torment. Anything to take his mind off of that pain. That horrible, blinding pain…

“HOLD HIM, you imbecile!” the Spy snapped.

It was unreal. Scout had suffered through more broken bones, minor gunshot wounds, and blunt trauma than he could remember, both in his rough childhood and on the battlefield. None of them compared. This pain RADIATED. His entire jaw felt like it was made of red-hot iron, and any flesh around the tooth burned as if it was being disintegrated by hydrochloric acid. His cheek and tongue were numbed from the overwhelming sensation, and his head throbbed with a migraine that shook his brain loud enough to wake the heavens.

Suddenly, a sickening crack, and then a crunch. Scout gave a strangled, garbled shriek as he felt something sharp drive further into his gums. Spy gave an irritable huff. “Look what you made me do, you stupid boy.” He held up a bloody, broken mess of what could only be shattered remnants of the tooth he was pulling. “Now I’ll be here all day pulling out this infernal tooth bit by bit.” An annoyed smile. “I hope you’re happy.”

Scout couldn’t quite remember what happened right after that. The pain was too much – he’d probably passed out. All he knew was that moments after everything went black, he was ripped back to horrid consciousness by some putrid smell.

Spy grinned down at him, holding a handkerchief that seemed doused with something. “Sorry, boy, but I simply can’t allow you to escape into the luxuries of sleep. I’d be undoing all of my hard work.” Scout’s eyes widened as he pulled out the pair of pliers again. “Now, where were we…”

Panic. “NOH!” the young man cried, voice loud and shrill with panic. “Nah ah-gin! Ah’wl tahlk!”
Spy paused and placed the pliers down. “… Pardon?”
More hysterical sobs as burning, salty tears streamed down Scout’s face. “Ah’wl tehwl ‘ou ANEHDIN’! N… Noh mohr, ‘M beggin ya…”

He’d done it. He’d betrayed his own fucking team when they were depending on him. All he had to do was keep his stupid mouth shut, and he couldn’t even do THAT right… He didn’t think he could show his face around them again. He was nothing but a screw-up and a punk.

There was a long, painful moment of silence filled only by Scout’s sobs and pitiful whimpers. The Engineer and Heavy looked up at Spy expectantly. Finally, he nodded, and the Engineer undid the device holding Scout’s trembling mouth open.

Spy was going through another fresh cigarette and putting back on his standard gloves as Engineer worked. After the mechanic was done, Spy decided to wait until Scout stopped sobbing before pressing his case. Seconds later, he decided it was taking far too long.

“The location of our intelligence, boy. Do not make me ask again.”
Scout swallowed painfully, the taste of blood bitter on his tongue. “I…I don’t know all the… details…” the boy started unsteadily. “B…But… I heard them… uh…” A pause as he choked back another sob. “Mention some place… Cold… U…Up north. Think it’s some stupid fuckin’ European country or some sh—”

“Names, boy,” Spy sighed, voice obviously impatient.
“I-I’m g…gettin’ to that…” the boy whimpered. He furrowed his brow, staring down at the floor in earnest concentration. “Um… I… I think it was called… N… Norra Scocha or something…”
“Nova Scotia?” the Spy demanded.
“Somethin’ like that…”
Looking away, Spy took another long draw of his cigarette, and silently let the tendrils of smoke curl out of his nostrils. “… Interesting…”

There was another painful silence as Spy mused this over. The Engineer and Heavy were talking in hushed voices at the other end of the room, but about what, Scout couldn’t say. Finally, the boy cleared his throat nervously, and inquired in a cracked voice, “S…So, am I free to go now…?”

Spy bit back the incredulous laugh tickling the back of his throat. Better the boy not know. “I’m afraid not.”
Scout shifted uncomfortably. “I told you what you wanted to know.”
“Oui. But allow me another question, s’il vous plaît.”
“No.”
“THAT was not a request,” Spy snapped irritably. “Now that we know where OUR intelligence is, you will tell us where YOURS is.”
Scout felt his blood freeze up again.

Anything but that…
>> No. 2701
Gloriously cringe-worthy. I've had a few root canals and the idea that the tooth could break scared the crap out of me.

I don't know if you want requests or anything but something with fire and/or burning/branding would make me a happy anon. I'd love to read your description of that.

Please continue!
>> No. 2738
RE: #18

Thanks for the compliments, pally! Excuse me for asking, but am I correct in assuming you're a reoccurring reader? Maybe the same one that left me a nice comment at #15? If so, thanks for the continual support - it really means a lot!

As for your suggestion, I am APPALLED at myself for not thinking of that earlier. I am scrambling to think of ways to fit it into the story without things getting a little too... muddled. I will work my hardest not to make you disappoint!

One last thing. Yesterday, I was horrendously sick, and while I was at home, I went on a sudden writing binge in which over 1,600 words were written. (And usually, I'm the slowest updater to ever live!) That being said, expect an update very, very shortly. Possibly tomorrow since my updates for this particular story tend to be around 900 words in length. I'm hesitant to make many more uploads of the same chapter before the sex happens. God damn it, I am having WAY too much fun with this...

TL;DR: Thank you!
Have I seen you before?
I'll try to integrate your request.
Expect an update soon!
Sex probably comes afterwards.
>> No. 2739
I can't get enough Scout abuse. I really can't. It's not that I hate Scout, but his cocky attitude makes him a prime candidate for unspeakable torture. Mmmm. Make sure you keep that spark of disobedience in him until the very end. Then crush him. Crush him like an egg.
>> No. 2758
Holy god I do hope you didn't get taken by the Rapture scheduled for today, because finding this last update and a promise for more soon is just too beautiful.

Keep it up!
>> No. 2769
#21: That's what's the plan, yes. Hehheh... So much fun to be had...~

#22: Didn't know about that til I just read your comment (it's nearly midnight my time), and I had to prevent myself from ragespazzing over such idiocy. Just.... hurrrrrmmmm.... Moving on.

NEXT CHAPTER, GO.
>> No. 2770
Oh, fail. I never pasted.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Now that we know where OUR intelligence is, you will tell us where YOURS is.”
Scout felt his blood freeze up again.

Anything but that…

“Sorry, man – I can’t answer that,” the Scout replied quickly. Too quickly.
Spy snarled and jammed his foot squarely into Scout’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. “Don’t insult my intelligence with such transparent lies, boy.”
“It… ain’t a lie,” Scout gasped out with an infuriating amount of resolution. He squared his shoulders stubbornly, and clenched his jaw. “Sorry, man – that’s all I know.”

He couldn’t help but think about his team. BLU had been on the run for weeks now with a series of devastating losses of land. The Intel grab was supposed to put them back on the map again – put a little more wind in their sails. If RED stormed in and recovered their Intel… Well, there would be casualties, sure, but BLU was likely to have decoded most, if not all, of the information already.

But if OUR Intel is stolen, Scout thought, his heartbeat escalating with panic, we’ll be worse off than before. RED’ll wipe us off of the friggin’ map.

Scout didn’t want to be in any more pain. But the thought of his entire team getting slaughtered – for real – just because he couldn’t stand the heat… No, that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to pussy out again.

His eyes flickered up to glare at the Spy, the bold, smoldering fire in his eyes once more. Spy returned it with his falcon-like gaze.

“Honestly, boy,” he sighed, crouching so that he was eye-level with the little BLU wretch. He twirled his cigarette idly between his finger-tips, trying to maintain his patience. “I’ve already had you water-boarded and I’ve pulled out one of your deplorable teeth. Do you really want more?”

Scout was glaring off to the side now, so Spy pressed the cherry end of his cigarette to the pale flesh of Scout’s exposed neck. There was a slight hissing sound as the flesh blackened and blistered around it. Scout sucked in a tight breath, clenched his teeth together, and let out a weak whine of pain, but still refused to look at the man.

Spy growled dangerously and seized Scout by the collar, bringing him close to his snarling face. His breath was heavy with the scent of tobacco and Brandy. “What are you trying to ACHIEVE, you imbecile?! You WILL tell me what I desire to know, whether it takes hours, days, or weeks! Why do you resist?!”

When Scout didn’t reply, he drew out his beautiful revolver and bashed the boy on the skull with it, tarnishing its intricate designs with the dark, red stain of blood. Scout drooped, threatening to lose consciousness once more, but Spy seized him by the collar again and slammed him to the wall, growling like a feral animal. The chains rattled noisily with the sudden, violent motion.

“ANSWER ME.”
“I already told ya,” Scout mumbled dazedly. He tried to focus. “I… dunno nothin’. Ya wastin’ ya time, big guy.” It came out surprisingly easy, despite how thick and dry his tongue felt in his mouth.

Spy gave the little snot-nosed brat another firm back-hand, and stormed to his feet, pacing around in a barely-controlled rage. The Heavy and Engineer stared wordlessly as the man began neurotically drawing a fresh cigarette, lighting it up and barely taking a single draw before he tossed it away and pulled out another. As he did so, he hissed venomously, “I’m not finished with you YET, my boy. Oh, no. No, no… I’ve got many more tricks up my sleeve! Perhaps I’ll start ripping off the nails from your fingers and toes! Hmmm? Would you like that?!” he snapped.

Silence was all that met him. Spy was sure that nothing could be more annoying than the little delinquent's shrill, grating voice, but this deliberately defiant silence was much, much worse.

RED Soldier had made himself clear that Spy wasn’t supposed to utilize any interrogation methods that would kill the BLU Scout. At least not right away. He was supposed to get all information from him as quickly as possible, then kill the boy and dispose of all evidence once they investigated if the information was legitimate. But they needed the information first. And they needed it quickly.

There was no margin of error. Period.

But what was he supposed to do? He could sense the Scout was retreating back into a protective mental shell. It was very possible that he’d been tortured before with such tenacity. And it was clear that the boy had the stupid, but noble idea that he was a hero by saving his teammates – as if there WERE any heroes in this game they played – as well as the idiotic thought that he would actually be let go if he stayed silent long enough. Unfortunately, he also seemed to recognize that he was too valuable to kill with his information. Or to psychologically scar past his limit, for that matter…

The man’s mind whirled frantically as he took in a deep draw and flicked another cigarette away. He’d never been under such restraints for interrogation before. He was used to terrorizing his victims with a slow and painful death until they begged for a merciful shot between the eyes and were willing to tell whatever they knew to receive it. And if they died before information was yielded… Well, there were always other men to “ask” instead.

But this Scout was the only one they could get their hands on – assisted by the RED Spy’s relationship with his mother. The only BLU mercenary they’d been able to get since the damned war had started. There was no room for error… No second chances if he made a miscalculation…

He continued on his fanatical ranting tirade, his threats getting increasingly sadistic as his own panic escalated. “OR, perhaps I could force-feed you your own filthy waste! I could even get the Medic to come down here and—”
The Engineer suddenly pulled him aside as the boy winced at the threat. “Easy there, pardner,” he warned in a low, solemn voice. “You can’t bring the Doc into this. Soldier made sure to specify that.”
Spy jerked away from the Engineer’s grasp, and jabbed a thin, pointy finger into the man’s chest, hissing back, “And he ALSO specified that I was to be the ONLY one to speak, and that YOU moronic commoners are not to get in my way!”
Engineer just shook his head. “It’s no use right now. We should try again tomo—”

Spy suddenly waved him off. “Shush, Laborer.” His brow was creased thoughtfully.
The Engineer snarled and was about to object to Spy’s offensive nickname, when he caught sight of the expression on the man’s face. He grudgingly stayed silent, if only to hurry this uncomfortable and highly unpleasant process to its end.

It was possible… Very possible that Spy had been going about this the wrong way!

Yes. His focus had been all wrong. His techniques were painful, to be sure, but would not serve as a continual physical, as well as psychological reminder that would stay with the boy for the remainder of his life. Something that would hit him hard – something he’d be most certainly afraid of losing forever…

The answer came immediately.

There was a sudden relaxing of Spy’s posture that warranted an uneasy glance from Scout. Spy didn’t return it immediately, taking time to finally enjoy the smooth essence of his luxurious Dunhill Special Reserve cigarette. The panicked haze he’d momentarily gone through was over now; the information of the whereabouts of the BLU Intel was as good as his.

The slow, cobra-esque grin that split his face in two somehow made Engineer and Heavy feel just as anxious as the very Scout the grin was meant for.

“We all enjoy various activities…” Spy began vaguely, pausing for a moment to deftly blow out a ring of smoke.
Scout watched him warily, jaw set tight.
“The Laborers, for example—”
A low growl from the Engineer. Again with that nickname.
“They like to build their fancy little toys for me to destroy. The Heavies like their big guns. The Medics like… well… You know. I like getting my information and keeping a lucrative career in which it is my duty to simply stab anyone stupid enough to stand still. And you…”

The man poked Scout in the chest with deceptive – mocking, even – tenderness. His predator-like grin softened. “And you like to run.”

A pause as Scout tried to see where this was going. Spy continued softly, sounding everything like a father lulling his child to sleep with a bedtime story. “Like? No. You LOVE it. Don’t you? You love the wind in your hair, the feel of your feet slapping against hard pavement, the burning in your legs, the rush of your heartbeat, the sting of every exhilarating breath…”

Scout nodded unconsciously, eyes dreamy. He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath, imagining it was from the fresh outdoors. He’d hardly been able to MOVE since his capture – much less have a good run. He missed it more than he missed NOT feeling like a drowned rat with a nail jammed into the inside of his jaw and a hammer beating on the side of his head.

WHACK.

Scout couldn’t hold back his pained cry as the drummer inside his skull beat at double-time. Spy stood, the barrel of his revolver coated with yet another thin layer of blood from the Scout’s forehead. His smile stayed professional and refined, even as his eyes burned with the insane glee that came with a knowing victory.

Everyone in the room flinched as Spy unexpectedly fired a round just a hair away from the boy’s thigh.

“What would you do if you could never run again?”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


No porn yet - sorry to disappoint. This installment ended being way more introspective than I'd planned it to be. Still, I like it. Well, besides the fact it's also kinda long-winded. But eh. Gives us a little more insight on the purview of the inner mechanisms of their enigmatic minds. ( Bonus points and a free request filled for the first person who can pinpoint the show and episode that's from. )

Anon #18, I hope that's good enough for now - your request was golden, but I didn't quite know how else to fill it at this point. GAAAH.

Also, fun fact, I was reading this out loud to my friend while we were goofing around on a nearby golfcourse with her dad's golfcart. When Spy loses his cool, I started screaming RIGHT as we pass by some random golfers. They kept staring back at us until we turned the corner. Good times.
>> No. 2773
OH GOD I was hoping this would come into play. Poor Scout. I feel bad for him, and yet, I can't wait to see him suffer. Wanna see how far this ends up going. Keep up the good work.
>> No. 2775
It might be a bad thing, but I feel absolutely no pity for Scout in this. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I'm totally on Spy's side :D
>> No. 2776
Poor scout, I gotta admire him for protecting his teammates. Spy's a dick, but we already knew that. I take it there's no respawn here?
>> No. 2777
FAPPO

Man, I don't even care if porn shows up or not. This torture is too delicious. Spy losing his temper is wonderful. Almost as wonderful as calculated, malicious Spy.
>> No. 2778
Iz: Thank ya kindly. I'm glad that people are having as much fun reading this as I'm having fun writing it.

#25: LOL. Well, it'd be hard to feel that much pity for him if you hated him in the first place, which I'm assuming you did. I personally feel bad for Scout - especially for everything else I've got in store for him. Doesn't mean I'll let up on 'im, though. Not by a long shot.

Chessolin: Yeah. Sorry - should have said there's not respawn off the battlefield, but I kind of went by the assumption that was the general fandom consensus. Whoops!

Ginger: I'm so glad you're pleased by this! Believe it or not, I hardly ever do torture, or even guro, so I kept neurotically checking to see if everything was accurate. So far, Spy losing it is my favorite part in the entire fiction. I like to think he CONSIDERS himself to be always cool and calm and in control, but takes things not going his way very, VERY badly. Especially when his OWN life\career is on the line. It's hard to believe that anyone is completely sane in a game like this. That's what makes it so fun.
>> No. 2779
I can't believe I overlooked the very title. Was driving back from my auditions today when it hit me- I wonder if the breaking point refers to Scout's, or Spy's. Ahh yeaah.
>> No. 2780
Same anon as 25 here. I never hated Scout, more like I never had much interest in him, this though, this definitely has my interest and I can't wait to see more :)
>> No. 2781
Iz: Pffft, yeah right. You wish I was that clever. It's mostly referring to Scout's breaking point, but I guess you can say everyone involved in this story are going to be pushed to their edge by the end, anyhow. Spy being no exception.

#30: Ah, I kinda see what ya mean now, but I'd personally still side with Scout on this, had I been in the spot. Being the underdog and what-not. Plus, bonus points because his intentions are (mostly) pure.
>> No. 2786
Happy ending eventually? maybe? please?
>> No. 2787
Maybe. But don't get your hopes up.
>> No. 2792
Sad now.
>> No. 2794
I am the same anon from #15 and #18. I'm really enjoying this I'm glad to give you support!

I've had a very busy weekend and only just now have I gotten a chance to check the chan and there is an update! Thank you SO MUCH for taking my request into account. That part gave me shivers in the right kinda way. I'd make a big 'ole smiley face but I think that would result in some kind of ban, and I do NOT want to be banned before seeing this through.

Reading through the other comments (and through the latest update) I'm now looking forward to the psychological toll this event takes on all the characters. Sex or no, this whole thing is very exciting.
>> No. 2798
Chess: Aw, don't be! I actually don't know exactly how it's going to end yet -- this story is already becoming way bigger and more complex every day, so who knows where it'll be in a few months' time! I'm just saying - Scout's got the odds against him right now.

Anon #15\18\35: Your comments flatter me greatly! I'm glad you liked the cigarette addition, because I was worried it was added too hastily, but I guess I had nothing to worry about. Can't wait for you to see what I have in store, and I'll try to keep your fetish in mind for later on!
>> No. 2800
I was only half serious. I like your story, it's like a train wreck. I don't wanna know what happens next but I read it cause I gotta know what happens next!
>> No. 2806
(I didn't mean train wreck as an insult. I'll shut up now.)
>> No. 2813
I think Chessolin meant it was a train wreck in the regards that terrible things are happening to Scout, but we just can't stop reading because it's so well done.

(Same anon fag as #35&30)
>> No. 2814
*25 not 35... damn you early morning typing!
>> No. 2855
I got what you meant, Chess - no big deal.

Also, I think I'll just start calling Anons by their first post. (Like the Anon at #40 I'd just call #25 if he\she identified themselves as such).

Also, sorry, you guys. I just had my graduation on Friday, and my birthday is on Tuesday, and I've got to do things with my friends\family\parents until then -- long story short, I wouldn't expect much for the next few weeks. I'll update ASAP, though!
>> No. 2856
>>41
Gratz and Happy Birthday!
>> No. 2924
going on what #18 said, if you're at all taking requests, and if you're at all going to do the branding thing... would it be possible if a curling iron was stuck up someone's ass? ... at all? If not, then oh well. It's a great story, and I'd love to see more of it. If you are, then oh my god, I will love you forever.

Oh, and, oh god, I cringed at the wisdom tooth part. I currently have all four of my wisdom teeth growing in at the same time, all of the impacting, and I have to have them removed. All four of them. I've already heard horror stories about it, and that didn't help. Again, great story, grats and happy b-day.
>> No. 2931
#43: Uhhhhh... As much as I hate denying requests, I'm gonna have to pass on that one. I'm really, REALLY sorry, but in this story... It just seems too implausible. Mostly the fact that, in order for it to happen, SOMEONE in this testosterone-driven base would have to be in POSSESSION of a curling iron. And that if it isn't Spy, he'd have to sacrifice so major man-points to ask for it.

The only one I could see realistically having a curling iron (not including Pyro, because who knows about him) would be Medic. Which means Spy would have to ask him for it. Which means Medic would ask why. And then he'd want to get involved. And that's something NO ONE wants to happen. I guess Spy could also steal it, but it'd take some HUGE balls to steal from Medic.

I guess Spy could also go to the store and buy one. But I think he'd be too proud to suffer the weird looks it'd get him.

And, ooh, I'm sorry about your wisdom teeth, too. I'm actually thinking you'll be pretty okay, since they're gonna have you on the giggle gas for it, most likely, so I doubt you'll feel anything. I have to get mine pulled, too - probably some time this summer. But, hell, after suffering through them for two years, I'm looking forward to it. *rubs aching jaw* IT'LL BE ALRIGHT, PARTNER.

Sorry for this wall of text, too, by the way. Thanks for your kind words - always appreciated.
>> No. 2932
>>43
I don't think it will be bad. When I had mine removed, they put me up, I woke up, fell down, slept on the ride home, and lived on vicoden and mashed potatoes for several days.
>> No. 2933
>>44 oh crap, how I lol'd. Half of it was just imagining RED scout snooping through RED spy's things, and then bringing it down asking Spy why he had a curling iron, and then Spy more or less saying "uh... well... I knew it was going to need it later, so I went out and borrowed it from BLU scout's mom". After all, we all know he needs to keep his hair nice and curly... or something. Iunno. It's 2 AM right now, and at this time of night, everything's funny as hell.

But no, that's fine, I knew it probably wouldn't be able to happen.

Oh, god, I hate it when they start growing in. I swear to god, each month they take turns coming in just to annoy the piss out of me. If it isn't one, then it just has to be the other, and for some reason, it's always the two bottom ones. Anyways, hope you finally get the out. I feel your pain, man, and by god, it hurts.
>> No. 2942
Chess: Also, I totally said thanks to you for the nice wishes before, but I think it got ateded, so thanks again

#43: Yeah - shenanigans all around, and Spy is too "classy" to put up with that crapz. I'm sorry, still. I've wracked my brain, and I just can't see it fitting anywhere. I mean, I'm putting Scout through HELL, but I'm not trying to kill him (yet). And that... most likely would, actually. So, again, sorry.

And, is it me, or do bottom ones cause the most problems? My top ones came in with no problem, but my bottom teeth went, "lol screw you" and were stuck in limbo, half-in, half out for, like, a year. So the gums around them were still sensitive and stuff, and chewing was a pain - especially when something got stuck in my top teeth, and then would just keep getting jammed into my gums again and again. I'm so done with you, teeeth.
>> No. 2944
This post has been deleted.
>> No. 2945
>>47 Naw, again, I knew it probably wasn't going to work out, but it didn't hurt to ask.

As far as I know, my top ones haven't been coming in, and the bottom ones were like that for almost a year before they decided to be dicks and start making themselves at home. Even about half a year after they made that decision, they're still not even half unpacked. And the real kicker? The dentist wants to wait until they've fully come in before he pulls them out. This is going to be really fun, I know it.

Oh, look, an update. Now I have something to do for a few minutes before going back to being bored as hell.
>> No. 2946
>>48

Christ. I was literally on the verge of tears the entire time I read this. Whether from joy or sympathy is a different matter... probably both.

I love this so much.
>> No. 2947
REPOST

Oh, hay, gaiz. Just totally realized that I made a HUGE typo in my last update, and it was bothering me so much, I nuked the original post and put up this one instead. Sorry about that, LOOOL. I is are so gud @ spellcheking, yees i are.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What would you do if you could never run again?”

Scout’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately drew his knees up to his chest. “H-Hey…. Easy, now… I… I already told ya what I know!” When he saw that the Spy was calmly reloading his weapon and no longer paying him any sort of mind, he blurted, “O-Okay! So maybe I DO know something! But I still can’t tell you!”
“Oh, you’ll find that you most certainly can,” Spy muttered, clicking shut the chamber.
“No – you don’t understand!” Scout screamed, frantic voice going shrill. “You don’t know what they do to traitors over there, man! I CAN’T!!!”
Spy only raised one, dubious eyebrow.
Scout trembled, eyes darting over the floor, as if the answers to his dilemma were spelled out on the filthy, damp concrete.

Finally, there came a stifled sob. The boy lowered his head further, ashamed of crying for the second time in front of the grown, battle-hardened men before him.

Spy waited patiently.

“P…Please…” came the cracked whimper. “Please don’t make me tell… I… I just can’t…”
“You can, and you will.” Spy cocked his revolver meaningfully.
“NO! NO, no, no, no, no!” Scout cried, shrinking back in on himself. “Please… Please! I… I’ll never cause any trouble for you guys again! I’ll quit the war! I’ll drop off the face of the fuckin’ planet if you want me to – just don’t make me tell you! PLEASE!”

Spy gazed into the Scout’s eyes, expression as grim and hawk-like as ever. Although it was incredibly difficult for Scout, he stared back, eyes bloodshot and unsure.

Eventually, Spy lowered his gun and softened his gaze with a considerable amount of effort. “Boy, I really don’t want to do this,” he lied in a soothing voice. “I’m here for one thing only: and that’s to get the information I desire. I’ll gladly let you go – I’ll even personally escort you to your new-found freedom and ensure your lovely mother you have not been harmed.”

His voice dipped into that gentle, father-like tone again. “But you have to tell me what I want to know first, Cameron.”

He paused. “Please.”

There was silence for several long moments. Scout opened his mouth, paused uneasily as he mulled over what he was about to say in his mind, chewed his lip, and took a deep, shaky breath.

“I-I… I really can’t tell you, but I—”

Spy didn’t even remember pulling the trigger. All he knew was that he was that one moment, he was patiently listening to the simpering little imbecile, and the next, he was scowling ferociously as he fired again and again into the boy’s kneecap, shattering it in a matter of seconds.

The pain shot through Scout’s leg like a bolt of lightning, every bullet sending his body into a convulsion of anguish. And, oh God, did he scream. He screamed as loud as he could manage so that everyone in the entire world could know the pain he was going through. The fear he felt, wondering what else these cruel bastards could put him through. And, most of all, that the one thing that mattered most to him was taken away forever.

Spy seized him while he was in the midst of writhing in his restraints, and squeezed his cheeks forcefully, making the dull ache pulsing within his mouth return at full force. “I don’t think that you were listening,” the infuriated Frenchman hissed, eyes blazing. He brought his face nose-to-nose with the terrified boy’s. “Now do you want to tell me where that Intel is, or do you want to go for two?” He pressed the barrel of the gun to the boy’s other knee, finger hovering dangerously on the trigger.

Scout couldn’t seem to stop shaking. He convulsed more, eyes rolling into back of his head. It was too much – the pain, the stress, and God, Spy’s breath – he felt like he was choking… Couldn’t breathe…

Spy withdrew as the boy started gagging forcefully, but when nothing came, he resumed his position straddling the helpless teen on the ground. He shook Scout forcefully by the shoulders, growling as the boy’s eyes flickered and rolled back in their sockets yet again.

“TELL ME!” he screamed, shoving him against the wall.
“—I—”
“TELL ME!!!” Spy repeated, slamming those frail shoulders yet again over the cold stone.
“TELL M—”

“Iceland!” the boy choked out between his sobs and whimpers of pain. “Th… The Intel… It’s being held i…in… Iceland…”

Spy withdrew, allowing the boy a moment to control himself and speak in more than barely understandable blubbers. chest heaving, Scout continued, “Th… There’s this huge v…volcano… Off the south coast… Can’t remember what it’s called… Th…They have a base there… Only one entrance… and it’s crawlin’ with Pyros, Engies, Heavies, and Medics. That’s… That’s really all I know. Just… Just please… Don’t… No more…” Another sob, followed by violent coughing and a sickening retch.

Spy smirked. “Well done, boy,” he cooed mockingly, patting the trembling soul’s cheek. He stood, glancing back at his two visibly uncomfortable comrades. “You two have served your purpose – you may be excused. I’m charging you with the task of relaying the whereabouts of the suitcases to Soldier on the way back to your quarters. This has been an overwhelming success.”

Engineer exhaled, suddenly becoming aware that he’d been holding his breath. “So we’re done now? We can leave?”
“Yes. You can leave the tools here, however – I might need them again later on.”
Engineer was already making a beeline towards the door, but Heavy stopped and glanced back at the masked villain. “You are not coming with us?” he asked in his heavy Russian accent.
“No, unfortunately not. I have some matters to attend to in order to make sure our hard work is not undone,” the Frenchman answered vaguely, spinning his cigarette between his fingertips. “But you may leave if you wish.”

The heavy-set Russian man stared at Spy a moment longer, then shrugged and left along with his smaller, Texan counterpart.

Scout watched, trembling as the heavy steel door opened, flooding the dimly lit cellar with the blood red glow of the setting sun. The door swung shut, extinguishing the light all at once, and with it, Scout’s last hope of freedom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nnnnnnope, no dicks here! Sorry again, you guys. Kinda got away from me. Again.

Felt like I could have spent more time on the fact that Scout's knee is now a shattered mess of blood and flesh and bone, buuut... Nah. Was going to, but nah.

Funny story, though. I actually did some research on kneecapping, and apparently it's done at the BACK of the knee to sever some kinda nerve or something - idk. I wanted to try to fit that in to show, "Hey, I actually DID look this up," but I couldn't quite fit it into the story smoothly, so I'm going to call Artistic License on this one, and ask that you guys just assume that all the effects of a NORMAL kneecapping took place, even though it was executed differently.

Also, I thought it'd be cool to shoehorn a volcanic lair in there. Because they're kind of the shit. So, yeah, that's literally the only reason that's the location of the Intel. Author appeal. Sue me.

If I seem kind of off right now, it's because I haven't eaten all day and it's nearly nine, my time. I should really get on that. Being sick is the worst. Okay, love ya'll.
>> No. 2948
>>48

YES. UPDATE. Congrats on the graduation, happy birthday, and boo on the sickness. I hope you feel better soon!

That volcano is totally canon for me because there is actually a map called koth_lolcano (http://forums.tf2maps.net/showthread.php?t=13099). It is a terrible map, but totally relevant and gave me a laugh while reading.

I am concerned about Scout bleeding out though. Poor kid is in terrible shape and won't last the night if he doesn't get some help. I look forward to seeing how that happens.

PS, the number tracking is getting silly. 15/18/35 is now Rae
>> No. 2949
Oh god, tell me this isn't the end. It's so good. I just... I yearn for more. Please?
>> No. 2986
Needs update! MOAR!

God, I can not express how much I can't wait another minute for this update. ~Please~ have more soon!

I usually leave con-crits in my comments but I haven't had my monthly guru yet and I'm way to eager for the update of this to see any flaws.
>> No. 3004
#43: Thanks for being so understanding, brah. About your mouth, though, ask your dentist if you can go to an oral surgeon to get them removed, because believe me - it does NOT get any easier. Hope you enjoyed the update!

Ginger: I'm so happy you liked it! Porn is 100% guaranteed next chapter, so you have even more to look forward to!

Rae: That map blew me away. Do want, plz.

Iz: No, definitely not the last installment! Technically, all of this (and the next update) are only supposed to be ONE chapter long! I hope I'm not dragging this along too much, but I'm hugely enjoying myself.

#54: I'll have another chapter as soon as I can, but so far, I've been having trouble starting off. But, trust me; I won't give up! I love you guys too much! Thanks for dropping by and boosting my moral.
>> No. 3014
This post has been deleted.
>> No. 3017
>>56

DEAR GOD YES

THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED OUT OF EVERYTHING

I hate you rush a genius, but MOREMOREMOREMOREMOREMORE
>> No. 3018
>>57

**to rush a genius. Now I feel silly, but it's the kind of typo you don't leave uncorrected
>> No. 3021
>>57

You, ma'am, honor me. You seriously do. Thanks for always coming back, and thanks for the always-enthusiastic responses.
>> No. 3022
>>59

Think nothing of it. Just continue articulating my fantasies as you have been.
>> No. 3023
>>56 OH. MY. GOD. YES. I went from freezing and pissed off at GoW to almost fangasming. A few problems in the speech, but hey, I can't blame ya. Know know what this scene needs? Curling irons. Wellnonotreallyitsperfectthewayitis.

I hope you feel better soon.
>> No. 3024
Problems in the speech? Go ahead and lay down some examples - I'm never above trying to improve! Thanks for the kind wishes, though, and, er... Good luck with your curling iron thing.
>> No. 3025
>>62 I don't know, some of the dialogue sounds a little out of character for Spy, and it sounds a little more "modern" than what it should be. Eh, I'm probably just nitpicking.
>> No. 3027
Gah, I knew that "bitching and moaning" was a mistake. I was going to fix it, but.... I forgot. Dorp. If it really bothers you, I could always nuke that update, but I'd rather not. No biggy, though. Thanks for taking the time for listing your opinion! Means a lot to me, Holmes.
>> No. 3029
Oh Jesus. I swear to god, I have such a mental boner right now. Like, not from arousal, just 'this is so well written that my brain is in overdrive' kind of a mental boner.

Don't you dare blueball me, TwoRefined. Can't wait for more.
>> No. 3030
>>64 I think it was more "royally pissed me off" that bothered me. It's more of an English phrase, and unless he was living in American for a few years, at least, he wouldn't have picked it up, especially if he wasn't hanging out with a younger crowd. I also don't know whether or not they would have said that in the sixties. You might have to do some research on that. Oh well. I'm mostly just nitpicking. It's not a giant glaring mistake, so no real need to fix it.
>> No. 3033
LE-NUKED!~

There was no need to fix it, but I thought I should, anyways. Also fixed some other things that bothered me during my read-through.

Iz: I'm both flattered and confused that you like my random crap so much, and I'll try my hardest not to let you dowwwwn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If there was one thing Spy loved, it would be the intoxicating feeling of power wrought from fear. His was a different sort, he knew. He wasn’t like that brute of a Russian bear or the psycho-patriotic Soldier; he couldn’t FORCE his victims to fear him by sheer brute strength or physical intimidation.

His was a creeping kind of fear – the one of a child afraid of the eerie shadows cast by what was supposed to be a comforting night-light. The chill that invariably creeps up one’s neck when they find themselves walking alone after dusk.

He thrived on this fear – uncertainty was what gave him power, and it never felt as sweet as when it came from someone who was utterly cocksure. Be it a filthy bushman too busy staring through his scope to survey his surroundings every-so-often, or a Heavy roaring with laughter as he slowly moved down the ranks without noticing that his precious Medic was no longer with him.

Maybe that’s why, he told himself, that he found the terrified look in Scout’s eyes so intricately alluring.

The boy’s eyes followed him as the man drew forward. He was still shaking and sobbing, the shattered remains of what could have been called his knee still bleeding profusely.

Suddenly, Spy whipped his revolver out again, aiming the barrel directly at Scout’s face. The boy gasped, immediately shrinking in on himself. Spy smirked placing it back in his holster. “Are you afraid of me now, little Scout? And here I was, thinking you were a big MAN…”
Scout averted his eyes to the ground, still shaking. “You… You shot me i…in the knee…” he muttered, feebly trying to justify himself.

Spy smirked, lighting another cigarette. “Yes. I did. And do you know why?” He paused to blow a few smoke rings. “Because YOU disobeyed a direct order from me. And let me inform you right now that your short life will become VERY difficult should you continue to disobey.”

Something about the way Spy said that made Scout shift uncomfortably. “Hey… Wait. Didn’t you say you were going to let me go?”
“Yes. Yes, I did.” Another smirk. “But that was before you practically spat in my face and refused my offer, despite my kindness. What I said before that incident is now null and void.” At the expression of horror spreading through the boy’s features, he added, “Oh, don’t worry, you little hooligan. If it makes you feel better, I never planned on keeping my promise, anyhow.”
“You… You bast—”

Spy flipped open his butterfly knife, eyes glinting. “Pardon?”
Scout lowered his eyes, immediately realizing his mistake. “N-No – I didn’t mean—”

And suddenly, the glinting blade was as the boy’s neck. “Are you STUPID, you pathetic, bucktoothed mongrel?! I’m only going to tell you this ONCE: you belong to RED Co. now. More specifically, you belong to ME. I’ve been authorized to do anything I can to make your life miserable, and, trust me, the more you whine like a stupid, pathetic little girl, the more ideas I get. So I’d suggest you keep your mouth SHUT.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes, and he nodded meekly, ever mindful at the knife pressed against his throat. He bit his lip in order to hold back another sob.

Spy scoffed, and made a few quick, clean cuts in Scout’s undershirt, which was still cold and damp from the water-boarding. He hastily lifted Scout’s wounded leg (prompting a few painful screams), and fashioned a crude bandage around the knee. “There. That should hold you until I can be bothered to hire someone to maintain you.”
Scout whimpered. Maintain? What does he…

That’s when it hit him. Spy had meant everything he said completely literally. Scout was no longer a person. He was a thing now – a belonging in every sense of the word. He didn’t have a future. He didn’t have a family. Hell, he probably didn’t even have a name anymore. All he had now was a purpose – to serve and survive.

He was brought back from his grim realization by the sound of a zipper. A gloved hand yanked his chin up so that Scout’s eyes were level with the undone fly and lovely silk boxers.

“Mouth open. Time to test your resolve.”
>> No. 3034
And yet, I'm still not happy with that installment... I won't say what's bothering me in hopes that you guys don't suddenly become aware of it, too, but I think I'll call it a day at this point. I've already nuked twice in two updates in a row - at this point, I'm just becoming OCD.
>> No. 3035
I hope Spy dies in a fire...
Great writing though!
>> No. 3045
Oh god I cannot wait for the next installment. Slightly frustrated by the cliffhanger.
>> No. 3057
Chess: Oh, just wait til the end of this chapter! Yes, chapter. t has an end, after all!

#70: Sorry about that! Here - I'll resolve it for you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mouth open. Time to test your resolve.”

It took a moment for Scout to understand exactly what Spy was asking of him. He blinked for a second, and the next moment, his eyes were wide with disbelief. “You… You’re into dudes?!”
“No, of course not – don’t be ridiculous,” Spy snapped back, obviously irritable and partially mortified by his own request. “And even if I WAS, I’d find someone like YOU about as desirable as a dead, half-rotted pig. However…”

He took a deep draw, then exhaled again, cigarette resting between his fingers as he clutched a fistful of the boy’s hair. His other hand pulled out his flaccid member and wiggled it slightly in front of Scout’s face.

“This isn’t about desire. This is about power.”
“N’ what if I bite you?” Scout growled softly, bristling despite himself.
“Do you honestly even want to know the answer to that question?”

Scout winced, and glanced back at the man’s member. It smelled clean, at least, and it was well groomed, but… It took all the boy’s will power to not start gagging all over again.

“I…” The boy’s voice wavered. “I can’t—”
Spy promptly drew his gun again and hit him in the mouth. Scout gave a startled shriek as his angry gums started blazing with pain once more.
“Okay! Okay…” Scout sniffled, lower lip quivering as he pleadingly looked up at the older man.

He took a deep breath, and swallowed back the bile tickling the back of his throat. He closed his eyes tightly, hesitantly extended his tongue, and enveloped as much he could of the flaccid cock in his mouth.

Spy gasped slightly, arching forward into the boy’s mouth. He’d been trapped in this God-forsaken base far too long – had he really almost forgotten the feeling of getting sucked off? Maybe not, but still, he hadn’t expected Scout’s mouth to feel quite so warm…

Scout felt his stomach turn as Spy let loose a soft, guttural moan and pulled his head closer. It hadn’t taken him long to get hard, and now Scout could even taste what he could only guess was… Oh, God… Was that… Precum?

He held back a gag, and glared up at Spy in bitter resentment, thankful that the man didn’t have his eyes open to see his expression. “Not interested in guys” my ass… Only a total fag would get off from this. Only a total fag would get off from this. Only a total fag would get off from this. Only a total fag would ask for me to DO this!

Suddenly, a feeling of defeat washed over him. What was he doing? He was sitting here sucking some fag off like a little fucking whore! He should have fought more – said something, bit, tore, fought tooth and nail until every bone in his body was broken… It was useless, he knew, but he should have fought. He should have fought because that was what a real man would have done.

A sob swelled in the boy’s chest. He wanted to go home. He’d had enough of trying to prove himself on the battle field or trying to be a “real” man – he wanted his mom, damn it. He wanted to be in HIS house, warm and wrapped up in a blanket and listening to the radio and eating soup his mom had made from scratch.

He wanted to sleep in his bed. He wanted to be reading HIS comic books. He wanted to hug every last one of his big brothers. He wanted to go outside and RUN.

Will I ever get to do any of those ever again…?

Scout was already on the cusp of breaking into hysteria, and Spy’s gentle prodding of, “Come on, boy… Take it all, now…” proved to be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The boy jerked his face away, and began WAILING as loudly as he could. Spy was taken aback for half a second, then growled, shaking the boy’s shoulders. “What are you doing?! I didn’t say you could stop!” he snapped.
“I… WANT… MY… MOOOM!!!” Scout screamed at the top of his lungs.

Spy was infuriated. “Open your mouth!” he demanded.
“Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Scout continued sobbing shamelessly.
Spy pressed his gun against the boy’s temple, enraged. “NOW!!!”

The boy’s quivering mouth opened hesitantly, as he continued to sob. Paying no heed to the annoying little bother, Spy plunged into the open orifice.

The reaction was instantaneous. Scout’s stomach heaved, and Spy managed to back away just half a second before the boy was bent forward, body shaking as he vomited violently and painfully. Before long, his entire front was covered with acrid, yellow bile.

There were some dry heaves and coughs at the end as Scout spat, trying to rid himself of the horrid taste, but he hardly had any time to regroup before Spy wrenched his head back by the hair, and plunged in again.

He face-fucked the boy soundly, driving himself in as deep as he could go without any concern of whether Scout could breathe or not or if he was in any pain. The boy did his best to keep up, still whimpering and sobbing and gasping for air whenever he was allowed time to breathe. There were more dry heaves, but he simply didn’t have anything left to expel. As soon as Spy caught on, he began ignoring them all together and simply pushed past them.

“Oh, merde…” Spy groaned hoarsely, starting to break out into a sweat. As he glanced down at the boy under his control, he suddenly became acutely aware of how much the frightened, tear-streaked face resembled that of his mother’s. Only Spy had made love to the boy’s mother. Scout now only existed for a cheap, brutal fuck.

An aroused growl emitted from Spy’s chest. This was his first time ever taking someone else without their express consent. He took pride in his ability to charm the ladies, and wouldn’t even take one home if he suspected she’d had too much to drink. He was a passionate, kind, and understanding lover – one that many women could only fantasize about.

How surprised he was to find there was a beast hiding inside him all this time. There was a feral, sadistic hunger that craved to push Scout past every limit – to break him in every sense of the word. Seeing him sitting there, chained up, broken, terrified, and utterly helpless… It was everything his hidden, twisted self had ever wanted.

He knew he’d be back for more.

There was a strangled cry from Scout as Spy pressed himself deep into the boy’s throat with a curse, releasing inside of him. Then, he hurriedly pulled out and came over Scout’s face and hair, wanting it to serve as a physical reminder to the boy as to whose he was.

Scout coughed and gagged, trying to force out the semen trapped inside of his throat. He didn’t want it inside him forever. God, he wanted to forget… But Spy clapped his gloved hand against the boy’s mouth and nose with a stern, “Swallow it. All of it.”
Scout whimpered, eyes welling up as he did what he was told. Spy removed his hand, and let the boy cough and gag some more, the salty, bitter taste on his tongue not leaving him.

After lighting up another cigarette, Spy left wordlessly, making sure to turn off the dim, pale light-bulb in the center of the lonely cellar.

Scout sobbed quietly, cold semen running into his eyes, his mouth sore and swelling, and his leg screaming in pain. He prayed to whatever God there might be left to forgive him of any sin he’d ever committed.

Then, he fervently prayed for death.
>> No. 3061
I fucking cried when Scout started to call out for his mom. Fucking. Cried.

Dear god. I hope this has a happy ending. But only after more suffering, because I need a catharsis.
>> No. 3063
Thanks, Iz. I can still hardly believe I wrote something like that - I feel like the biggest douche ever.

It's a good feeling.
>> No. 3068
Been following every single chapter of this with baited breath, and it just keeps getting better. The pure asshole nature of your Spy is wonderful and twisted, and you actually make me feel so sorry for the poor little Scout!
I do loves me some character development, and the way the two are in this fic is so detailed and perfect! You've got asshole Spy and captured Scout down to an artform!
I adore this fic. Please keep up the good work!
>> No. 3072
Another glorious installment. I feel like such a creeper for enjoying this as much as I do. Keep up the good work!
>> No. 3079
Arkana: Thanks so much! It's been a lot of fun writing, and I'm glad someone is enjoying this, because I'm so obsessed with it all of a sudden, it's scary. You guys keep fueling my passion! Hate to sound petty, but I doubt I'd ever finish this if you guys didn't like it. I'll try to get you guys the next installment ASAP, because I have a good idea of where it's headed now, and I can't WAIT.

Ginger: Don't feel like a creeper! I think everyone who follows this has a morbid obsession with seeing Scout get abused even worse than he already is.
>> No. 3088
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING LIGHTHEARTED AND COMPLETELY UNRELATED!!! Hurpdurp. Believe it or not, you guys, this is the kind of crap I usually write.

Also, I wrote all this tonight. PROOFREADING IS FOR LADIES AND WOMEN.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a sleepy, uneventful morning in the BLU fort. Pyro was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast every morning as custom, humming some muffled melody to itself. Half of the crew was trickling into the dining room for Soldier’s mandatory breakfast report time of 0800 sharp. He didn’t mind that all of them were in their pajamas – at least not for the moment. As long as they were in ship-shape half an hour later.

Among the stragglers were Demoman (who was getting over a head splitting hangover), Heavy, Engineer, and Medic (who surprisingly rarely woke up earlier than he needed to). All were dressed in the standard sleep-wear – black sweatpants and a loose, white tee-shirt with their team logo on the front and their symbols on the sleeves.

Soldier and Scout woke up early to take morning jogs while it was still cool out, which was that only reason Scout would ever wake up before noon. Sniper was always fully dressed – aviators and all – before breakfast because it apparently was one of his “standards” as a professional. He was sitting at one end of the table with only his standard mug of decaf and a newspaper. And as for Spy and Pyro… Well, no one ever saw them underdressed.

As Pyro went around the table, handing out breakfast to everyone who’d been late arriving, Spy couldn’t help but glance around the table. There was rarely any conversation during meals – the team would eat as if it were their duty, and leave as soon as they were done. The in-team relationships of BLU were, at best, passable, at worst, on the verge of falling to pieces.

After a moment’s hesitation, Spy cleared his throat, and broke the silence with a, “I know I’ll probably regret asking zis later, but I’ve been wondering about all of your various tastes in women.” He shrugged, sipping on some tea. “Call it morbid curiosity.”

There was a pause as everyone glanced around the table, wondering what had brought on the unwarranted question.

It was Heavy who answered first. The big man broke out in a wide grin and answered, “Red hair is very attractive. Also, I like big vimen. Much chest and buttocks.”

For some reason, the atmosphere around the table relaxed, and many of the men smiled in return. “A chubby chaser, huh big guy?” Scout piped up, mouth full with pancakes and eggs.
“Da.”
“Well you know what?” Scout chugged down a glass of milk, and grinned back at him. “I’ve always wanted t’bang a black chick, m’self. Wha’d’ya say, Demo – got any tips for me?”

Demoman choked on the coffee he was nursing to ease his throbbing hangover, and snarled across the table at the cheeky little vermin. Scout had his mouth stuffed again, and was looking away innocently as he chewed, knowing full well the awkward situation he’d put Demo in, and knowing that Demo KNEW he knew, and not caring one bit. The conspicuous snickers he’d earned from Soldier and Heavy only served to convince him that his passive taunt towards Demo would be well worth the busted lip later.

Demoman was looking as if he’d jump across the table and strangle Scout at any moment, so Engineer quickly broke in to defuse any violence at the table. “I don’t want nothin’ special from a lady – just someone I could talk to n’ grow old with n’ raise a family with—”

“OH, SCREW THAT LOVEY-DOVEY BULLSHIT!” Soldier interrupted suddenly, making the entire table jump out of their skin. “HEY, SALLY – I THINK YOU FORGOT YOUR TAMPONS AT HOME IN YOUR FLOWERY LADY PURSE FOR LADIES AND WOMEN.”

He beat his chest defiantly with a roar. “I AM A MAN! A MAN, DAMN IT!!! ALL I WANT IS A WOMAN WITH BIG BREASTS AND A CAR FULL OF MONEY AND RIBS THAT ADMIRES ME AND TELLS ME HOW SPECTACULAR I ALREADY KNOW I AM!!!”
“Yo, I agree with Solly, yo,” Scout piped up.

Pyro, hearing laughter and voices, peered into the dining room. “Mmmnh?”
“Hey, Pyro! Hey, Pyro!” Scout yelled, motioning him over. “What kinda girl are YOU into, huh?”
Pyro perked up, and clapped its hands together, the rubber making soft squelching noises. “Mmhhrmhrrrrm! Mmnnmdnffr rmmhmmmn hmmmhrrnnfrnndr! Mmmnnfdhhh mhhhhmmmmdrhhh!” It giggled gleefully at its own joke.

Scout just stared blankly. “… Jeez, man. I thought you were classier than that.”
Pyro shrugged.

“AND WHAT ABOUT YOU, SPY?” Soldier demanded in his loud, grating voice. “AS THE MAN WHO INITIATED THIS CONVERSATION, YOU SHOULD DAMN WELL CONTRIBUTE TO IT. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A WOMAN???”

Spy just waved his hand dismissively, a lit cigarette grasped loosely between his fingertips. “Oh, now, you can’t expect a gentleman like myself to kiss and tell, can you?”
“Pffftb,” Scout scoffed. “You know what they call that in MY language, Frenchie? Le bull-SHIT. You guys remember that one time he got some from that Brazilian chick?”

“Aye, I do!” Demoman snickered, pouring some scrumpy into his cup. “Spoi couldn’t shu’ up aboot it for more’n’a fortnight!”
Spy coughed, face going bright red, and loosened his tie. “Yes, well…” he muttered, trying to save face in the midst of his teammates’ laughter.

Even the usually-stoic Sniper cracked a smile. Without looking over his newspaper, he contributed with a, “I’d love t’have a Sheila that would rub her hair all over me so that I’d have her scent. And then, every night before I’d go to bed, she would rub my stomach and call me a special snowflake, and would suck on my feet and clean the dirt between my toes with her tongue.”

He expected a few chuckles, and maybe a confirmation of some sort. When it didn’t come, he blinked, and peered up over his glasses, lowering the paper so that he could see. His entire team was staring at him, mouths agape and eyes the sizes of saucers. Their faces varied from the crimson red of Medic’s cheeks to the pale white of Heavy’s face, to even the alarming off-yellow Engineer was sporting. Spy’s cigarette plopped into his cup of tea.

Suddenly, Sniper was on his feet so fast, his chair fell out from behind him. “WOT TH’BLOODY ‘ELL’S YOUR PROBLEMS, EH?!” His left hand pounded furiously on the table while his right hovered dangerously over his kukri.

And suddenly the entire table was empty, save for the chairs tipped over haphazardly and the abandoned plates of half-eaten food. And one extra member in particular.

Medic had a wide, unsettling grin plastered all over his flushed face. He sidled up to Sniper coyly, eyes glinting with something downright terrifying. He thumbed the sharp edge of the stunned bushman’s knife, looking directly up into his eyes. “Herr… Sniper…” he purred, seeming as if he had to catch his breath for some reason. “Das ist… WUNDERBAR.”
“Uh…” Sniper took a cautious step back. “… Yeah. Okay, Doc, I’m leavin’ – see ya later.”

Medic spent the entire battle that day pocketing Sniper. No one quite had the guts to say anything. Not even Soldier.

DAS ENDE
>> No. 3092
That was kinda cute actually. Sorta a team bonding thing. After all the stuff I've seen/read on tf2chan and the rest of the internet, Sniper's idea isn't nearly as bad as they make it out.
>> No. 3095
I love fics like this. Just simple 'day-in-the-life' kinda stuff.

Also, for a moment, I misinterpreted the definiton of 'pocketing'. Turned this fic rather gay. I'm okay with that. Don't know if that mis-association is intentional on your part, but it added something to this that made me smile even more.

Also.
Le bull-SHIT My friend actually says this all the time, and I could not help but read Scout's dialogue in his voice now.
>> No. 3104
Chess: Agreed. Hate to say it but I think that says more about us than it does about Sniper! I think the most disturbing part was how casually he said it - like he considered that to being into women with red hair or something. A lot of people have strange fetishes, but few would be brave enough to discuss them over a meal like it's no big deal. Also, for some reason, I see BLU Spy as the team mom of sorts - he's always trying to get people to work together better and diffuse arguments between his teammates. I also don't think he's the "original" and it shows - he's kind of a dork and tries really hard to be as awesome as his original and stuff, but on the occasion he just lets his dorky side get away from him. Hey, have you seen the last official update for the story? Just wondering.

Iz: It was half-intentional. But they weren't doing anything, I promise. Well... Medic might have been, but don't tell Sniper that. Also, if you keep reading Scout's lines in your friend's voice, things are going to get REALLY awkward later on in this story. Just sayin'. That's awesome, though. Your friend is awesome. Tell him I said that.
>> No. 3106
>>80
Yeah I did read it. I uh, think I'll have to quit reading it for awhile though, it's kinda making me depressed (been hormonal lately for one thing). Keeps pulling me back. I found myself daydreaming while playing tf2 about rescuing Scout. But I love the way you write, it's very descriptive without having way too much info that we don't need. Gives a big feeling of "omg what's going to happen next!?"
>> No. 3107
I've been reading this since the beginning and i really do like it! its well written and i look forward to all the new parts. your last little lighthearted part made me grin. Oddly sniper seems the type to be interested in strange things, its always the one you would least suspect right? As for your on going story, cant wait for more! but god i hope there is a happy ending or at least bitter sweet! i think what ever you have planned you should stick with, its your story and stick to your guns but i can still hope right?!
>> No. 3109
Chess: I'm sorry to hear that! It actually makes feel feel ridiculously guilty. Yanno, I was planning on doing two or so updates just on Spy returning to Scout just to see how he gets worse and worse, but now I'm thinking I'll just get on with the plot. I know some people might want to see more of Spy's adventures in the cellar, so I might make a spin-off thread - idk. But I don't want to make you guys suffer through torture porn to get to the plot if it's not your thing. What do you think?

Rudy: Yes, you can! Thanks for dropping by and leaving such a nice comment - I try not to look like I'm a loser that spends all day checking if someone left me a nice comment, but hurp, I totally am, and it makes me feel all warm and tingly inside when someone says they like it. I'm glad to have you aboard!
>> No. 3110
>>83
You don't have to do that. I don't have to keep reading. Look at it this way, only really good fanfics make me depressed, cry, or sit in front of the screen and giggle!
>> No. 3112
Yeah, but I want to make everyone who's a dedicated reader happy. Plus, I'm sure many people agree with your statement and would rather me not spend forever on pointless scenes that don't help the plot. I could be wrong, though, so I'll sleep on it.

But let me say again that I'm a writer for my readers even more than I am for myself (I tend to be more unreliable and finicky and have a short attention span, to boot), and I'm always trying to get better. If any of you guys have an issue with something or a suggestion, just let me know and I'll try to implement it as best as I can.
>> No. 3208
I'm not sure how I feel about this one. Staying up until 6 in the mornin (gotta be fresh gotta go downstairs) writing was probably a massive mistake, and then I'll wake up at noon and look over it all and just be so disappoint in self.

But do I care? Not enough! Here's some plot progression.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sniper was up on stage, swaying unsteadily as he belted out the words to the song playing on the jukebox. “If I should call you up, invest a dime, and you say you belong to me, and ease my mind,” he croaked softly, as if knowing he SHOULD have been a lot more ashamed of what he was doing, even if he wasn’t. “Imagine how the world could be, so very fine, so happy togetheeer.”

Pyro cheered and clapped along gleefully with the tempo as Sniper’s singing grew to a crescendo at the chorus. It even began singing along in its muffled voice with him: “I can’t see me lovin’ nobody but you! For all my life! When you’re with me, baby the skies will be blue! For all my liiife!”

It was now ten days after Scout leaked the information of the RED Intel. Soldier had allowed his team a night celebration after RED’s successful recapture, and they sure as hell were going to use it. Now most of the team (excluding Soldier, who never went out of War-mode, and Spy, who’d become quite the recluse as of late) was jam-packed into the company-provided bar that was built inside of the base itself.

Demoman had provided the booze, Scout had provided the tunes, and everyone was having a great time. Well, all except one.

Engineer was huddled over in a dark corner near the back of the bar, clutching his drink as if it was the last beer on earth. He kneaded his brow, muttering softly that all the loud music and drunken sing-alongs were giving him a headache.

Heavy was sitting beside him, watching Sniper perform as his audience whooped and cheered and sang along. Then, he glanced back at his comrade. Engineer hadn’t quite been the same since Scout’s interrogation, he’d noticed. He seemed tense all the time – as if he were lost in troubling thoughts that plagued his mind constantly. He also disappeared in his workshop for hours at a time. He’d always done that before, but now it was getting to the point where he’d start missing meals.

Heavy had been hoping that this night out would help relax his friend, but he seemed even more distraught than before. It didn’t take much to figure out why.

“You are still thinking about BLU Scout,” the big man rumbled, eyeing Engineer carefully. It wasn’t a question.
Engineer paused, and nodded. “… Yeah. Guess I am,” he muttered back, fiddling with his bottle restlessly.
Heavy sighed. “You are good man. But there is no need for you to feel guilt for leetle Scout. Is our job.”

Engineer clenched his jaw. “You don’t gotta have morals t’know what happened back there was wrong n’ you know it. I’m far from a saint, boy, but… I… Ain’t never…” A shudder.
Heavy shrugged. “Spy just does job like we do. Is not bad.”
Engineer barked a laugh, prompting a startled look from Demo. “Please, Heavy, don’t even try t’defend that scum. Yeah, it was our job to get the locations of the Intel. But he could have stopped there.”

A scowl. “Heavy, I done seen it, alright? With my very own two eyes. I know EXACTLY what he’s been puttin’ that poor soul through, and it’s appalling. Hell, he has the nerve to even PAY me to clean up after his mess, which I do, because if I’M not the one to take care of ‘im, there ain’t a person in the world that WILL! And the damned sunnuva bitch KNOWS it, too!”

The stocky man slammed his fist on the countertop in a barely-contained fit of rage, then rubbed his temples, trying his best to calm down. Demoman sauntered up, scrumpy held tightly in his hand. “Oi, lad, wot’s goin’ on here? Ye alroit, Engineer?”
“Yeah, ‘m fine…” Engineer muttered, glaring at the wall.
Heavy patted his back and looked up at Demoman. “He is not happy. Thinks Spy should leave leetle Scout alone.”
Engineer just grunted, scowling.

RED Scout, getting a slight wind of the conversation, popped in unannounced, a sloppy grin painted all over his face. “Wut? We talkin’ about dat BLU, squealin’ faggit? Man, whadda loser, am I right? Man, if those BLU mudderfuckers captured me, I wouldn’ta told ‘em NOTHIN’. What a frickin’ pansy-ass!”

Engineer looked like he was about to retort, when Demoman cut in, looping his arm drunkenly around Scout’s scrawny body. “Ach, listen to ye! Yeh don’t have the slightest idea of wut happened, an’ yet, here ye are, flappin yer gums like yer damn Superman!”

He jammed the flat end of his bottle into Scout’s skinny chest, grinning. “Anyways… Seems loik Snoipah’s dun wit ‘is caterwaulin’. How’s aboot we show ‘im how REAL men sing sappeh love songs?”
“YEAH!” Scout laughed, stumbling over to the stage with a mug of bubbly, amber liquid in his mug. Demo followed suit, taking a swig from the old Scrumpy bottle.

Heavy watched with more confusion than amusement as Scout fell over himself, spilling a great quantity of his drink, and exclaiming, “I’M SO DRUNK!”
He turned to Engineer. “I thought you replaced Scout’s drink with sparkling white grape juice.”
Engineer allowed himself a small smile at this. “I did.”
What they didn’t know was the Demoman had been topping the boy off all night.

Engineer sighed and leaned back for a moment, and pretended for a moment that the forgotten reminded of the ugliest side of mankind currently chained up in the cellar simply did not exist. That he was enjoying a night of drinking with his friends and comrades and that he’d never seen the horrifying images that haunted his dreams.

He let himself believe, just for a moment, that things would go back to normal.

Music sprang from the jukebox and filled the tiny bar with a light, upbeat tune. Demoman went first with a slightly off-key, “Listen, baby! Ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low, ain’t river wide enough, baby!”
Scout cut in with a blissful, high-pitched, “If ya need me call me! No matter where ya are! No matter how far!”

He did a little jig in place, careful not to lose his balance and topple over, continuing, “Just call my name! I’ll be there in a hurry! Ya don’t have ta worry!”
Demo joined in, slinging an arm over Scout’s shoulder. “Cause, baby, there—”

The entire bar joined in, gleefully ignoring any call for tone quality or pitch or the right notes, or, hell, sometimes even the right words. “AIN’T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH! AIN’T NO VALLEY LOW ENOUGH! AIN’T NO RIVER WIDE ENOUGH! To keep me from getting to you, babe!”

Engineer was grinning. He was actually grinning for a split second as he saw Scout’s drunken, carefree smile. But the moment didn’t last long. He was immediately reminded of the beaten, broken, bloodied face of the boy’s counterpart, and he felt guilty for ever enjoying himself, even for a moment, while that boy was left alone, in unimaginable amounts of pain, and abandoned in the dark.

Heavy blinked and watched as the man wordlessly rose to his feet. “Engineer—”
A pause, then a tired, “Yeah?”
Heavy gave him a stern look. “Do not do anything stupid. BLU Scout is not our problem. Stay away – Spy vill get in trouble, not you.”

Engineer didn’t reply as he left the boisterous bar.

There wouldn’t be any time for pretending anymore. Things had changed, possibly for good, and he had work to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DEMOMAN, HOW U TALK.

Also, I've been wanting to have Scout and Demo singing Motown for the longest you guys - you don't even know.

Fun fact! Sniper was originally going to sing "Let's Spend the Night Together" by the Rolling Stones. But I wanted something instantly recognizable, so eh.

TIRED. I DO BED NOW.
>> No. 3209
TF2 and karaoke night. You have combined my two most favourite things in the world. Thank you.

I really love how you added more dimension to Engy. Was afraid this fic'd be all 'well Scout is a whore now, the end'. Glad to see there's someone on this side that feels remorse. Can't wait to see where it leads.
>> No. 3210
my heart swells for engie right now. i really hope that work to do is how to get scout out! i sense this is turning into a scout/engie story and i hope for that! this was another great installment, cant wait for the next one!
>> No. 3213
Goddamn this is so good, I am floored by the characterization. Keep it up!
>> No. 3214
IS ENGINEER GOING TO BUILD A ROBOT LEG REPLACEMENT FOR SCOUT. BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE SWEET.
>> No. 3216
Aww I was disappointed in engi until this point! Good to know SOMEONE there has a soul. I know if I was on RED team I would have had a fit about needless abuse.

>>90
I was gonna suggest that with the blu engi, but yeah red engi could too! Plus it's a good experiment.
>> No. 3217
Oh yay! I'm so glad there's some redemption to be found in RED team.. I'm proud of you, Engie. You do what needs to be done!

Anyway, great update. Can't wait for more. I really like how portray the characters. Keep it up!
>> No. 3222
I get the feeling that RED Scout has no idea just what RED Spy is doing/has done to BLU Scout, and that if he did know, he wouldn't be so quick to gloat.
>> No. 3233
Wow, you gaiz, WOW. I leave for a day, and I come back to all these lovely comments. You make my e-penis feel so happy and tingly. You really do. I AM YOUR FAG FOREVER.

Iz: It needed to be done. Assuming it hasn't been done before. Which is doubtful. Also, I kind of wanted Engie it be a surprise main character. I think it worked, but I could have done it with a little more grace. Eh. Whatevs.

Rudy: Thanks! I will try not to disappoint!

RayJ: You flatter me. I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far!

#90: Mehbeh.

Chess: Well, he figured Spy was just doing what he did best at first - getting information from an unwilling participant. But the job's done now, and Spy's just being a sadistic fuck. Engie does not approve, and he'll be damned if he sits there and lets it just happen.

#92: ... And live up to his family name and face full life consequences?

#93: You would be right. No one on RED really knows what happened \ is happening to BLU Scout except Spy and Engie, really. Heavy and Demoman kind of ahve a faint idea because they're bros with Engie, and he keeps making dark hints at it, but he never expressly tells them just HOW bad it is because it disgusts him more than words can portray. And even then, it's kind of one of those things you'd have to see to believe. They'd probably be like, "Wait... Spy did WHAT?!" But I'm ranting. More on that next time.
>> No. 3237
>>94

Yeah, torture is all business to Heavy, but he's not the kind of guy who'd normally be okay with non-business-related torture. At the very least, he'd have something to say about it.
>> No. 3238
Personally, I don't think so. I see Heavy as a very "Not my business, not my problem" sort of guy. Yeah, he probably disapproves, but it's not like he's going to say anything.

I don't see Heavy as a good guy, really. Not a bad guy, but he's very good at ignoring things that make him uncomfortable but aren't directly related to him. He's just pretty neutral about everything. Get what I'm saying? I feel like I lost everyone ever just now.
>> No. 3241
>>96
Just so you know, I totally get what you're saying hah. And I think that's pretty much spot on, IHMO. I feel like he's kinda like "Welp, I'm here and I just do my job."

But hey, I'm more concerned about what's gonna happen with Scoot and Engie, not about Heavy!
>> No. 3242
Yeah, that's EXACTLY how Heavy is to me. Just there to do his job, which also tends to be his hobby, which is to mow people over with a horrible, horrible wave of bullets boolit. Anything outside of his job, he just couldn't give a tater tot about. (wat)

And, yes! Scooterz and Engie! The characters that are actually front and center! Makes sense for that to be what you're most concerned with. I just like over-thinking minor characters and why they do wat they do because I'm a total fag 4evr. Oh well - I love it.
>> No. 3243
Alright, you guys. Stop being happy. Stop it right now. Forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scout coughed feebly as the man towering over him gave a satisfied sigh and zipped up his trousers. Spy hummed and leaned casually against the wall and lit up another cigarette. He’d come down here for a celebration of his own.

The stupid boy had done well, he decided, blowing a few smoke rings. The least he could do was let him get off with just a simple blowjob for tonight. He could continue his various experiments later – besides, Scout had become quite good at giving head. Anything to avoid the alternative.

He flicked his cigarette away casually, and began making his way to the stairs again, not even throwing his living sex-toy a backwards glance.

“You’re… not going to kill me…?”

The soft, raspy voice made Spy stop in his tracks. This time, he did turn around and give Scout a searching stare.

He was barely the same person he’d interrogated just over a week ago. His entire body had atrophied, making his face was much more gaunt and his ribs start to show. The color of his skin was now pale and slightly grayed, and there were dark, haggard circles under his eyes. His cheek was swollen from where Spy had attempted to pull his tooth, his lips were dry and cracked, and his hair was now a completely matted, tangled mess. It was even falling out in some places.

The most change, however, was seen in the boy’s eyes. They used to shine with a vivacious icy blue that just barely succeed in containing the energetic spirit bursting from within.

Now, they were a dull, grey color similar to that of an overcast day. They were tired. Defeated. The eyes of an old man on his death bed. And yet, there was a faint glimmer of hope as he awaited the answer to his inquiry.

That’s when Spy felt an odd whisper of an emotion flit through his chest. One he was quite sure he’d rid himself of many years ago.

Guilt.

He’d done this. Somehow, he’d broken the boy – demolished him from the ground up, made him truly fear and agonize for the first time, and had brought him to the point where death was seen as the only, merciful release.

There was a pause. He could still redeem himself. Grant the boy his wish, and give him a quick, merciful death. Maybe even provide Scout with a proper burial, and forget all the wretched deeds he’d had committed in this horrid chamber.

He mused over this for a moment.

“No. I’m sorry, but… I’m not allowed. Soldier orders me to keep you alive until he gives word otherwise. For tactical purposes, of course.”

It was all true. But he knew Scout knew the real reason. The dim flicker of hope vanished from within the boy’s eyes. Spy couldn’t remember anyone ever looking so forlorn.

“Oh. Oh…” he murmured gaze dropping to the grimy floor. “… Oh…”

Spy left, closing and bolting the door behind him, locking the boy in total darkness once more.

He wondered if there was any champagne left over at the party.
>> No. 3244
Oh, Scout. You poor soul. At first when I started reading I was like, "Stop being happy? Haha! But this story is updated!~" and then I read it.. and now it's just.. aww.
Spy you bastard. You were human for like a second. Then it just.. agh you sick freak. C'mon Engie, hurry up and save Scoot!

Seriously though, I can't wait for another update. I love reading your stuff.
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