When we last left our hero: his team was wiped out, with half the survivors abducted by BLU's mad Medic. His favourite science project got drunk for the first time and showed up to give Scout the means to get them back. Now, back to our story. - The No Man’s Land - Scout knew the way to the abandoned gas station well enough to navigate by moonlight without too many stumbles; he figured he was being pretty damned crafty, if he did say so himself. He had a cloak for open spots (he was getting pretty decent with it, too) and adrenaline was running so hard he felt downright invincible. BLU wasn’t going to stand a chance against him. He was fearless, he was armed, and he was coming for them. It was an illusion that shattered a few yards away from the wall. He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped a mile, whirling around to shove a gun at.. oh. “Oi there, kid,†Cockbag Sniper murmured, grabbing the barrel of the gun to shove it away from him. “Jus’ making sure yer squiddy mate ain’t about 'fore I said hello.†Scout yanked the shotgun out of his hand and stepped back. “He ain’t.†“He was. And about as subtle as you are tonight.†Cockbag looked entirely at ease, so much as Scout could see at all, shoving his hands in his pockets with a shrug. “So what the fuck do you think you’re doin’, eh?†“Nothin’.†“Fuck you ‘nothin’, not an idiot. The hell did that monstrosity give you?†They squared off in a staring contest for a moment; a difficult-to-see one, but Scout could see enough. He also caved first, and held up the watch to show the glowing bars that gave away its purpose as something other than telling time. “That. And I know where they are.†“Yer ‘bout as sneaky as a charging rhino.†“Fuck you, I can do it.†"Give it here." Cockbag sounded deadly serious now, just about looking down his nose at Scout. But there wasn't any way he'd want to give it up. "Fuck no, he gave it to me, asshole." "You want this to work or not?" Another face-off. During which Scout couldn't help but think... yes.. in fact.. the Sniper had been able to sneak up on him pretty well. And find him pretty fast. "No, I need all the help I can get, right? And there ain't no way you're leavin' me behind." "Fine. You got a way in?" Scout didn't reply to that, he just kept going to the manhole, leading the way into the flickering tunnels and the dripping wet of Spy's waterways. He knew how to get from there to the opening under the bridge, then from there to underneath BLU, more or less, a roundabout way to go maybe but it wasn't the time to get lost. Cockbag had his bow with him instead of a rifle, following behind with it ready to be cocked and fired. He was wary enough that Scout really, really hoped that Spy was just passed out under the water somewhere and wasn't going to pop up and startle the Sniper. Get himself shot. That wouldn't be good, not at all. The way was winding and long, and they were careful enough that it took well over an hour to get to the platform underneath the enemy base. And they were both dripping wet when they got there. Carrying their shoes and socks, they stopped to wring out their clothes and all, so they wouldn't be leaving trails of spots and tracks that would ruin any chance of them getting in there quietly. It was a spot that held a choice unpleasant memory for Scout, but he shook it off and pulled himself back together. "I'm goin' first," he whispered, underneath a ladder that went up to an open hatch. "Might be a guard up in the basement." Cockbag just nodded and stationed himself under the ladder while Scout cloaked and went up the rungs, rather pleased with how quietly he managed to climb. The basement of BLU, at least this part of it, was just concrete walls and nothing. It didn't really look like a basement, Scout realized, so much as some part of the sewer system that just never got closed up. And yet, there was still a Pyro there on guard, standing there stock still with a flamethrower and a nasty-looking axe slung over their back. So still, in fact, it was like they were just a statue or something, staring out with those dead black lenses. This could be a problem. Scout gingerly, ever so carefully, pulled himself up, but his damp knee hit the concrete and made it go dark with wetness. The Pyro noticed this immediately, snapping their head straight at him, the flamethrower pulling up. There was a sound like a feral growl, and then they charged, fire spewing forth like from the mouth of a hand-held dragon. "Oh shit," Scout hissed, scrambling back down a few rungs before he just dropped and landed beside Cockbag. The fire chased after him through the hatch, dancing everywhere. He could smell burnt hair and gasoline and it was damned hard not to panic. "Shoot him!" Just as he said it, an arrow whistled through the air, implanting itself square in the forehead of the figure that sputtered and stopped spewing flame. The Pyro made an odd squeak and was still before limply tumbling down, landing between them in a lumpy heap of chemsuit and weapons. Cockbag glared over the body. "If he'd gone for help we'd'a been done." "Shut up, alright? Good shot but we gotta get goin'." Scout went up more quickly this time, peeking up his head again to listen for any alarm, anyone coming who might have heard anything. But there was just a lot of nothing. He dropped the cloak for a moment, the noise enough of a signal to follow up after him. It sounded so loud in his ears in here, unsettling, weird, but he was reassured by it being nothing but Cockbag Sniper. - RED Base - Spy hadn't actually left. He'd made it a short way, almost out of the wall... but then he just collapsed around a rock, resting his head on it like a pillow, limbs wrapping all around as though he were clinging to keep steady. In a way, he was; even down on the ground everything felt like it was moving around just a little too much. It had been fun, but now it was just... unsettling. He felt good and terrible. Rubbing his cheek against the coarse stone, he let out a hitching sigh, feeling... he didn't know what. Like there was something heavy and awful inside, regardless of that nice tingle he still didn't know what to do with. But he didn't cry. It was not something he did. Crying was for weak, pathetic humans. Crying was for children. And like Medic had taught him, he was never a real child. He was a thing, a monster, an animal, and animals didn't cry. Even when they were meeting their deaths and they knew it, even when watching their own kind ripped in half, they didn't cry. Crying was for people. He was not people. The little bit of water on his cheek was simply some byproduct of being drunk, that was all. Either way, he couldn't stay here any longer. Spy picked himself up unsteadily, then made his way out after the smell of Scout to follow from a distance. Not that he would follow all the way back to his own base. He wanted to be alone now, and quietly pass out in his safe place under the water. - BLU Base - And it was like that, only without any more unfortunate encounters, that they made it through another hatch behind the base itself. They crept through the back door to make their way to the basement, past a few sleeping bodies that reeked of liquor. BLU base, it seemed, had turned into a party. Even down in the shiny, nice part where the intel room and all that was, there wasn't anybody bothering to keep watch. People were around, sure, snoring and scratching themselves or twitching in deep, sodden sleep. Maybe BLU really did think the REDs were all dead or gone? They had to, not to care like this. So fucking happy they'd all but obliterated the other side. Scout's thoughts stopped in their tracks when they came upon the next obstacle; three Soldiers sitting around a little table in front of a closed door, grumbling to each other as they played cards for crumpled dollar bills. Each of them was in full gear, helmet and all, drinking what smelled like coffee with no booze in sight. This definitely was a problem. Scout moved back a few feet to where Cockbag was watching their back, letting the cloak charge as he stood beside him. "Three guards on the door, sober an' mean looking," he whispered. "Together?" "'Round a table." The guards in question weren't being quiet about it, either; one accused the other of being a "yellow-bellied pansy" rather firmly. They didn't know, apparently, that they had company, not yet. Which was a relief. "Alright. We gotta get them down quiet-like. I can get one, but I'll need time to make another shot." "Gotcha." Scout went back, thanking Spy over and over in his head for the cloak as he snuck up close. Slowly, so very slowly that it was painful. He was a Scout; it was contradictory to his nature and everything that usually kept him alive to be like this. Now he kind of understood why Cockbag wanted the watch. He wasn't any Spy, but those Snipers were awful close to the sneaky and quiet bit, hiding out and shooting you when you least expected it. And Cockbag did have that whole bushman crazy hunter thing going for him. Oh well, it wasn't exactly the time to worry about it, only feet away from angry, burly men with big guns and explosives and a reason to be vigilant, if anything he knew or heard about their Medic was true. If only that fucking BLU Medic was here, he'd take him right the fuck out. But first thing first; he had to kill at least one of them, then get out of the way without dying somehow so Cockbag could get the other guys. Easy peasy. Scout raised the knife, hardly daring to breathe, and came up behind the one closest to the door they wanted to get through. He did start holding his breath before too long, bringing himself so close that he could feel the body heat coming off the big man. He was so going to die. He dropped the cloak and brought the knife around the Soldier's throat like a garrotte, grabbing the dull side of the blade and pulling back hard. He hadn't really expected just how damned sharp it was. Hot blood sprayed all over the cards in the man's hands. The Soldier gurgled as the kukri lodged against the front of his spine, flailing back weakly as the other two leapt up. Now speed was his friend. Scout dropped and somersaulted across the floor, dodging a sharpened shovel that lodged in the wall inches from his leg. He didn't dare to fire his gun, not yet, not if they could avoid the noise, and these guys were being suspiciously quiet for Soliders. They didn't bark and holler and curse like they should have; just gritted their teeth and brought up their guns. Another went down, the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his forehead. He lived just long enough to look up in surprise, then fall to the floor like a sack of potatoes. The last guy got a shot off and pumped his gun for another, shrapnel grazing Scout's side as he kept playing the distraction. A distraction losing its value as the shotgun pointed at Cockbag - the real threat, he must have thought - tearing up the corner of the wood. "Fuck this," Scout snarled under his breath, pulling out his pistol to add a few holes. But the fucking guy didn't go down; he just looked more pissed off to be hit, peppering tiles with shot that sent off ricochet all around Scout's feet, tearing up his socks and grazing his legs as they locked eyes and... that guy... he didn't even look human, just cold and completely out of his mind as he stood there bleeding and seething a kind of hate Scout hadn't ever seen so close. Apparently that was the best kind of distraction; another arrow, right between the eyes, and their little problem was solved in a swath of blood and gore. "Get the soddin' keys runt." "Right." Scout limped over, feeling sharp pain and warm blood running down his legs from splinters and shot, but he was still on his feet. Later. He reached the nearest Soldier and went through his jacket, finding nothing. The one he'd sliced open: nothing. The last guy: nothing but a little key that definitely didn't go to a door. He didn't even have to tell Cockbag, who strode over to the door as he came up empty, immediately attacking it with a swift kick that made the thing shudder, but not crack or budge. Cursing, a thrown shoulder, more cursing. "Medic's got the fuckin' key man." "Gonna go ask politely for it?" "Fuck you I can get it." Cockbag turned his head with a dirty look; even behind the aviators Scout could tell there was nothing but irritation in his eyes. "You ain't gonna waste the bloody time." He strode over and just grabbed Scout's pack, digging through it despite the hissed protests. He was upset - they both were - but there was something just off about the Sniper that was... different. Driven. Dead Spy's pretty gun came out, the one that Scout realized perhaps he should have been using himself but... he was a creature of habit. And that damned thing was loud. Cockbag didn't seem to care. He just blasted away around the door handle, not at it but splintering in an off-circle that Scout found a little weird... until he tossed the gun back and with another swift kick splintered the rest of the wood, around the lock this time, letting it swing open into a dingy, dark tunnel-like place. This was it. There was only silence for a moment as they crept in with weapons drawn, but no guards ran out. There was just stillness and the buzzing of a few bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Everything echoed, even Cockbag's careful steps audible in the dead quiet. "Who's there?" a rough, familiar voice rasped. The bow hit the ground and the Sniper just ran forward, through the doorway and out of sight. Scout glanced behind him, still pretty damned worried that someone was around to hear the one-sided firefight. All he could hear was rattling metal up ahead and hushed words, so he lowered his pistol and followed. The Engineer, the Soldier, and Good Sniper were filthy and pale and smiling like they'd nearly forgotten how to, all chained up to the wall. Engie was whispering a mile a minute, which Scout only caught as he came up close. "...Ain't here, we usually expectin' him back by now but... ain't right. Can't hold up for the boy, much as it pains me to say." Other Scout. "Guys! So fuckin' good to see you, you okay? What the fuck are you sayin'?" Scout hissed, shoving his gun in his belt so he could help figure a way to get them out. Wait, that key! With fumbling hands, he tried the little silver thing on the cuffs; lo and behold, it worked. "Gotta go now," Cockbag snapped quietly. "Can't help the kid." "I ain't fuckin' leavin' him!" Scout retorted, a bit more loudly. He didn't stop his work, though he shot Cockbag a glare before letting Good Sniper down. They exchanged glances with torn expressions, the newly-freed REDs rubbing red, sore-looking wrists. Scout wouldn't blame them for any of it, if he were the one down here, he'd want to get the hell out as fast as he could. But... they couldn't just abandon him, all alone with that Medic! ...Could they? "We're leaving, now," Cockbag growled, grabbing Scout's shoulder. "Got lucky coming in here, now we're gone." "No, man. You guys go. I'm gettin' him out." Cockbag nodded, handed over Dead Spy's revolver, and that was the end of that. With quiet gratitude and a few weary pats on the shoulder, the rescued teammates followed the Sniper out, uncertainly getting their legs back under them. After they were gone, Scout didn't leave right away. He sat down and unwrapped his hands, putting the bandages around his calves, instead. Still hurt like hell, but if he just wimped out now he just knew it'd be damned hard, trying to sleep at night. More bullets in the revolver, the chamber spun and checked, a fresh clip in his pistol, and all the bars up on Spy's watch. He'd been in and out of BLU before. Piece of cake.
Thanks for reposting this, Shankie. I've reread this story numerous times, and the plot and characters still draw me in, so it's wonderful to see you still update this, regardless of it having been a very overdue update. I'm excited to see what state Other Scout's in and how Scout will react to the discovery (if, he indeed, does find Other Scout). Please keep up the excellent work!
Oops I got caught up in being an RPfag. Just a short update for now, sorry. But it's proof I haven't quit, right? - BLU Base - Of all the times he’d been here, Scout had never felt so damned uneasy about it. The other times had all been excitement, the thrill of running and escaping and stealing their precious whatevers for the job... or just to fuck with them. Not like this time, with everything so dark and quiet. The worst part was he was sure that the BLU Medic wouldn’t let himself get all drunk and careless. Out on the field, what little he saw of him here, every time he was with some kind of guard around. Maybe safe in his office he’d be different, maybe, but betting on that was a pretty bad idea. Scout moved slowly, back past the bodies of the dead Soldiers, the drunk-sleeping BLUs, until he was at Medic’s door. It said so, right on the wood in stenciled letters. Other Scout hadn’t been anywhere else, this was the last place to look. He was here or he was dead, and Scout refused to believe he was dead. Not after all they’d gone through, not after this heroic rescue, it just wouldn’t be fair. The door wasn’t locked. Scout only turned it a fraction of an inch before he paused, gripping metal knob white-knuckle tight, his pistol up in the other, taking a deep breath before he held it and turned it the rest of the way, slowly pushing the door open. It swung silently and easily, which was weird, but made sense when he looked inside. Unlike the rest of the base, Medic’s office was nice. The RED Medic didn’t even have one, just a desk in the clinic, but this was something else. A dark wood desk with a comfortable chair, loaded bookshelf, even a painting of some landscape on the wall. The other side had a table, just a boring wood table, but empty, and with a little metal stand with medical crap on it right underneath. Private clinic space? Made sense, sick fuck. The rest was hidden by a curtain in the back, which he wasn’t really paying any attention to until it moved. “Faggot is that you?†Scout hissed, stepping further into the room. It was... and it wasn’t. Other Scout stepped out from behind the curtain, in full uniform, with a complete lack of recognition on his face. A BLU uniform and a pistol pointed right at Scout. “You shouldn’t be here,†Other Scout said, but it was a flat, emotionless statement. Regardless of the threat of the gun he didn’t seem to even care. “Well neither should fuckin’ you asshole, c’mon, this is my heroic goddamn rescue! Put that shit down and get goin’!†“Rescue?†That got a little emotion; a flicker of confusion. “Who’s rescue?†“Are you fuckin’ serious?†Other Scout just stared, blank again, but his head tilted just a little like a curious puppy. “I’m going to shoot you now,†he said, and did just that. The bullet tore through Scout’s left arm, slamming him back against the wall. Scout gripped it with his pistol hand, hissing and doing everything he could not to scream. Can’t scream, can’t make a fuckin’ sound, oh god. Oh god. “Scout, man, fuck’s wrong with you?†he pleaded, but he was already edging for the door. This was wrong, very very wrong, but he wasn’t about to let himself get killed. “Nothing.†Scout groaned and closed his eyes a moment, pain blossoming everywhere, blood seeping hot and thick around his gun and his fingers squeezed against the wound. “This ain’t fuckin’ funny, we gotta go. Fuck did he do to you?†“Nothing.†It was becoming dismally clear that he wasn’t going to get Other Scout out of here, not unless he knocked him out somehow and dragged him. With one torn up leg and a gaping hole in his arm that didn’t seem very likely. “Well I got somethin’ for you, buddy. I’m gonna get it out and hand it over, that okay?†Other Scout nodded, still looking at him like a b-movie robot. Scout put his pistol in his waistband and gingerly pulled his satchel around, pulling out Dead Spy’s revolver. All the while watching Other Scout, who’s face flickered with conflict again as the shiny barrel came out, but he didn’t shoot again, thank fucking god. “Got this for you,†Scout said, a bit of a wheeze in his voice. “Here.†He turned the gun around and handed it over by the barrel, bloody fingerprints messing up the naked lady engraved in it. For a moment, Scout just dripped blood on the floor while Other Scout stared at it dispassionately. But, eventually, he reached forward and took it out of Scout’s hand, holding it up to look over the pretty hand cannon he’d wanted so much... before. “I should kill you.†“I’m just... I’m goin’ okay? You should come with me, please man, come back and see Medic, get all fixed up, we got the others. Come back man. Please.†Scout was just begging now, as he edged towards the door. “Please come back with me, you ain’t a BLU.†Other Scout just lifted up the revolver and pointed it at his head; time to run. But he didn’t chase him, didn’t fire. Scout just left him behind, pulling the pistol out as he ran, trying to ignore how tired he was getting. Blood loss. Fuck. And fuck fuck fuck what had that fucking BLU Medic done to him? He’d even lost a ton of his freckles and had looked like a goddamned zombie... and Scout had just left him there. Just left him there. Straight out the front door and across the bridges, through the charred town, nobody shot at him, nobody at all pursued. Their sirens hadn’t gone off, either. Maybe Spy had helped them after all... but he’d helped that Medic rip out Other Scout’s soul, hadn’t he? Did he think that would make up for anything? It wouldn’t. The gun wouldn’t, the watch wouldn’t, nothing would make up for it. Maybe he hadn’t hated Spy before, he’d been honest about that. But he did now.
I love you. I love you so much for doing this.
Where can I find the first part? I found some on your Hipstr, but the last part I could find ended in: the tentaspy capturing the red spy and pyro
FUCK YES Cue excited fist-pump I am so happy to see this back.
weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Thanks guys! >>5 http://shankie.dreamwidth.org/154952.html?#cutid7
You get shorter, more frequent updates, apparently. - RED Base - Just like that, just for another kick in the teeth, reinforcements arrived two days later.  The supply truck came with two others, rolling up the dusty road laden with men, food, ammunition, weapons, everything.  Even congratulations from HQ for holding out.  For all the good that did. There were reinforcements of every class, just one Engineer and Medic, both younger and immediately falling into the role of assistant to their experienced unofficial superiors, a Sniper that he could have sworn was a mute, and yes, a Spy.  A slew of others, but New Spy seemed to know he was in some kind of danger; he showed up, took a look around, and remained unseen except at lunch.  Or to report to Medic, probably. Under the Engineer’s oversight, the new recruits were given the task of fixing the damage; replacing boards in the wall or the buildings, repairing the electricity, making the base just as close to new as it could be.  It was a busy first day, but it left the place a tidy fortress by sundown.  Sentries beeped cheerfully by the wall, the Snipers had their watchful eye out, and everyone sat down to dinner as if nothing had ever happened. Almost like nothing had happened.  The new recruits sat on one end, the survivors on the other, quietly listening to their new teammates carry on as Medic sipped soup at the head of the table like some kind of downtrodden king.  Or something.  That’s what he looked like to Scout, as if he was almost sad about the dead being replaced by an even stronger force.  And he still had that better-than-everybody air about him, it had just lost a lot of the.. arrogance.  Somehow.  Maybe Scout just wasn’t holding it against him anymore.  Maybe he’d been hoping to run off with his Heavy to some gay German mountain or something. Not that Scout could really blame him.  Somewhere else, anywhere else would be so much better. Scout didn’t finish his own dinner, he just shoved his chair back and got up, stalking out of the building.  He felt all fucked up, so angry and yeah, even a little depressed.. but mostly just so mad he punched the doorframe on the way out with his wrapped fist, hissing profanity under his breath. He didn’t even make it anywhere before there were footsteps catching up with him; the two new Scouts.  He could have sworn they were identical twins, probably were.  Same sandy hair and gray-blue eyes, Scout sure couldn’t tell them apart.  A little bigger than Scout, but they’d been running around quickly enough earlier. “What the fuck do you want?†“Guess you’re the boss now, right?†one said, practically bouncing from one foot to the other from nervous energy. “Yeah, so, whatever man, the other guys all are gonna train tomorrow and shit, are we good for that?†the other continued. Identical twins alright.  From New York by the sound of it.  Scout briefly hoped they weren’t ever going to decide to talk shit about the Red Sox, seriously, fuck the Yankees... but it made a twinge of discomfort in his chest stop him from caring about that so much.  It made him think of Other Scout, on the other side, a zombie. “Battin’ practice,†Scout said, sounding more like their Commanding Buckethead than he usually did, but he wasn’t really in the mood for dicking around.  “We’re gonna play some fuckin’ baseball.†“What?†“You heard me,†he snapped.  “So get some fuckin’ rest so you’re good to go for fuckin’ baseball.† Scout glared at them until they looked at each other, shrugged, and trotted away. Idiots. * * * It took two more days for BLU to mount an offensive; maybe they needed all that time to sober up, he was sure those Snipers still had eyes on them.  Even so, it wasn’t much, just a skirmish to size up their numbers.  As soon as all the Snipers had fired at least once, the new Medic got a little torn up, and RED singed some Scouts, the fight was over.  Nothing lost or gained, as usual. And no Other Scout.  He never was one for the front lines, always back with the Medic.  He was just protecting the wrong Medic now.  It took all the joy out of driving back the BLUs, at least for Scout. It took another week for all of the ‘old guard’ to get back on the field, demanding clean bills of health from Medic.  Who gave them. It took two weeks of those skirmishes, on and off, before Scout really noticed Spy hadn’t been around.  At all.  Yeah, the twin Scouts were a distraction, so were the occasional bullets, but it was nothing all that new.  Maybe once upon a time he would have gotten all worked up about Big Changes, but now he didn’t really care.  He sat in the courtyard on a rock, tapping his bat against the dirt, and really wondering where Spy was.  Scout wasn’t anywhere near forgiveness, but he’d expected Spy to come crawling around trying to find some.  Or spying on them, or something, but even in the faces of the new guys he was pretty sure he’d recognize squidfag. Scout worried a little, but not about Spy; that he’d lost his touch in picking him out of the crowd.  He didn’t like that thought at all. He missed the way things used to be.  He tapped the bat against his shoe and missed the way he used to think about Spy.  And he missed Other Scout.  If he was dead that would be different, he’d get buried out back and Scout would visit his grave, mourn him, but it wouldn’t really feel like he was gone gone.  BLU had taken everything he had really really cared about here.  Sure, there was still home, back in Boston, but that was like a whole other life.  In this life, there was just The Team and The Enemy, and even if RED was holding it’s own again, the guys that had survived That Day knew better.  They’d lost.
Spoilers it means "Daddy." p.s. eighteen - BLU Base - Spy woke up to a kick in the head, not even opening his eyes; he knew who it was, there was no point in looking up.  He just curled back around himself, his chain on the concrete scraping with the movement. “Are you ready to tell me vhat you’ve done, mein creature?†It was a cruel request; he couldn’t speak if he wanted to.  His tongue had long since swollen with thirst in his mouth, and the Medic had to know that.  It was like he was a child again, back in the lab, except there were no sterile lights, nobody was taking notes, no other curious faces to observe the Doctor’s work.  There wasn’t even the knowledge that he’d survive through this, that eventually, he’d be thrown back in the water.  Not after his betrayal, small actions though they were.  Just a clipped wire, some returned equipment to RED, and giving himself a ‘night off’.  That was all.  That was all it took. Breath rattled in his dry lungs, just the short, laboured breaths he could take anymore.  He would have told Medic everything, he’d be happy to admit everything he’d ever done against the man’s wishes, but his dry mouth just opened to let his long tongue loll out uselessly. “I am so very tissapointed in you.  Do you even know vhat today is?† The voice sounded deceptively sad, but Spy knew better.  Still, he managed to open his eyes and look up at his towering maker, who was frowning down at him, arms crossed over his neat white coat.  No, he didn’t know what today was, so he rolled his head a little on the floor.  This room, the one he’d torn that poor Scout apart in.  His fate seemed easy compared to his own, at least the Scout had only short times of pain before he was put back together again.  Spy felt he’d been drying out on this floor for a small eternity.  Drying out, beaten, and worse, while he just laid there longing to die. “It is you birthday.† The Medic sat down on the floor beside him, running his hand over his hair.  None of The Words were necessary, Spy could hardly move to fight him on it, so he didn’t, not a muscle.  But he kept watching him with itchy, bloodshot eyes.  His birthday?  That was something he hadn’t heard for years.  Long enough to completely forget what the date might be, or if he’d ever been told how old he was.  “I got you a present, ja?  But I zhink you don’t deserve it now.  Maybe later.†The Medic’s hands kept going, over the leathery skin his body had turned into, shrunken against his starved bones.  Shrivelling up.  He would have cried or begged if he could, but there wasn’t any water left for tears, his mouth just lay open and useless, tasting dust and dirt.  It was so hard to keep awake to look up, head throbbing so intensely he could see it at the edges of his vision. “No matter how kind I tried to be, you vere always fightingk me.  Always a stubborn, spoiled child.  But zhe only son I ever had.† Medic looked down at him like he felt bad about making him suffer, but that couldn’t possibly be true.  None of that could be true.  He’d never called him anything, never treated him like anything but his dog.  Not since.. not since he’d been so very young.  Still, Medic continued.  “I zhink you are old enough now to know truth.  You are my son, Ten.  And I had such hopes for you.†No.  No.  That had to be a lie.  Just a lie to confuse him. Medic beat him and hurt him and violated him, he couldn’t possibly be... “Not in a traditional sense, of course.  I never slept vith your mother.  But she carried my modified genetic material until you killed her, poor zhing.  You clawed out of her effen zhen, you did.  Poor voman, she never even had a choice in participating in zhe project.  But you are a killer, aren’t you?†Why was he telling him this?  Why was he saying this?  Couldn’t he just let Spy die slowly in peace? “Zhere is only one thing I vant from you, mein creature.  Absolute, unquestioning loyalty.  I don’t vant to have to use command words anymore, I don’t want to risk you fraternizing with zhe enemy anymore.  Is it worth it, to live?  Obeying your father?†Anything to make it stop.  Anything for water. Spy made an attempt to nod his head, which seemed to be enough.  Water, oh please water. “Sehr gut.  It is your last chance, don’t fail me again.† Medic pulled out a shiny key and mercifully unlocked the collar around Spy’s neck, pulling it off and tossing it aside.  He closed his eyes and sighed out a ragged breath of sadness and relief.  All a lie, it had to be a lie, but Medic was going to let him go.  Going to let him live.  Spy tried to move, tried to get up and crawl to his beloved canal, but his arms gave out before they could support any of him.  But Medic took care of him. Water came in the form of a cold splash over his face, but it was the most wonderful feeling he’d ever had.  Slowly, his tongue was able to move to lick it up, his skin soaking it in so quickly the floor was wet while his skin was just damp.  Again, again, like a miracle, until he just felt weak and hungry.  So sweet down his throat, he cried just at how good it felt. “Merci, merci,†he said fervently, drowning in the relief of his limbs being able to move, swelling again with moisture.  “Merci, sir,†he kept repeating, with a soft, rough voice. Medic laughed and patted his wet cheek, rubbing a thumb across Spy’s cheekbone.  “I zhink you should call me Vati now, ja?†Spy didn’t know what that meant, he didn’t really care just then.  “Oui, Vati.  Merci beaucoup.† He licked at the stroking fingers, oh yes, he’d do anything to live.  Not to live through that again.  “Merci, merci.†“You alvays vere my greatest success,†Medic sighed, still petting his skin, smiling down at the tongue that brushed along the tips of his fingers gratefully.  “Teeth always grew back aftah being pulled out, skin never sloughed off, you even grew up so pretty.  I did enjoy France.†“Merci, Vati, merci.†“Vhen you feel bettah, I you’re going to go hunt RED’s Medic and bring him to me.  You vill do zhat for your Vati, ja?†“Ahh oui, I will ‘ave him for you.† Anything, anything. “Kill anyone trying to stop you.†“Oui Vati, I will.†Medic smiled, wide, toothy, and ever so pleased.  Once, it would have made Spy sick to his stomach, but now it made him happy.  Medic was happy so he wouldn’t have to lock him in here again, no he wouldn’t. His Spy would be good and perfect for him.  His Spy would do whatever he said. Except stay awake much longer.  His head was somehow on Medic’s lap and he couldn’t imagine being more comfortable than that, still so deliriously happy (or just delirious) with the delicious water soaking into him, the promise that he wouldn’t be in this room much longer, something besides concrete to press against his cheek.  Spy fell asleep just like that, with Medic’s voice in his ears and Medic’s hand petting him like an obedient dog.  The part of him that was disgusted with all of this had shrunk so small, been beaten down so far, that it was just a whisper in the dark. “Herzlichen Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag.  Sie sind achtzehn heute.†* * * Spy woke again to find himself in the canal, underground, laying with his limbs dangling in the water and a meal of bloody steak wrapped in tinfoil laying right beside him.  Medic had forgiven him, Medic had given him another chance.  Where there had once been a hated, feared man there was now something more like a vengeful god in his head, to think of the ill-tempered German.  It was deeply unsettling, mostly because he wasn’t sure if it was simply being abused for a while or more fucking with his head that changed that.  Probably both.  If he could put The Words That Must Be Obeyed in there, if he could put unbreakable laws about straying or harming his creator in there, surely he could plant ideas. There was nothing to do but accept it and obey.  He knew that now. For the time being, that meant filling his empty belly and going home.  Spy delicately opened the tinfoil package, finding four thick cuts of beef, lightly seared on the outside, still juicy and raw on the inside.  His favourite.  Ravenous as he was, he still took only the smallest bites; his shrunken belly protested far too soon, as he knew it would, before even one could be finished.  So he wrapped them back up, nice and tight, and slid awkwardly into the water. The dark canals had never felt so good.  Home never looked so good.  Or been so difficult to climb up to, up onto the shelf above the water that held all of his precious things. Nobody had been to his hideaway in his absence, however long that had been.  An extra shirt and tie was neatly hanging on a rail, but for so long rust had stained the white.  The smell of Scout, even much of himself, was gone from his pile of musty blankets.  Replaced with the odor of the damp waterways.  Cigarettes not safely in his airtight box were ruined, but luckily for him, that was only a few. Spy’s fingers still shook a little as he lit a salvaged cigarette up, even after the thick smoke filled his lungs and was blown out in a drifting gray cloud.  Not from nerves, Spy was anything but nervous.  Not with the odd kind of peace that came with accepting the futility of fighting orders, simply giving in to following them.  That was all he had to do, it was as easy as that, as simple as bowing his head and doing what he was told.  Still, there would be no going after the RED Medic yet, not like this.  But he would.  He had to, even if his Scout tried to stop him. Scout didn’t understand.  How could he?  It had been foolish, thinking him different from the others.  He wasn’t any different.  He was people and people were all the same. It would please Medic, to bring Scout’s corpse and tell him how much he’d cared for him, but he cared to make his Vati happy more.  Spy lingered on the thought, then shook it off.  What did Vati even mean?  The RED Medic would know.  Spy decided to ask him, when the time came.  And he would hope Scout didn’t get in the way.  Medic had mercifully neglected to say a word about Scout, he could be safely avoided and left alone.  He was people, but Spy still thought of him and got a tightness in his chest and a lump in his throat.  It had been so nice to have company.  To have someone look at him without fear or disgust or ownership.  No.  Scout would just get in the way.  Might even try to help his team capture Spy, even looking at him too closely was an unacceptable risk. It would be dark soon, safe to go out and see the sky without any danger of his weakness causing his cloak to fail.  There would be no more thinking about Scout.  Think about moonlight on the water, stars glittering above, creatures scurrying and calling out from the darkness.  That was something he could have.
Don't give in tentaspy! He's an asshole, you should eat him the second you get the chance!
Shankie, your return is glorious! This is one of my all time favourite stories and I was sure it was over. You have such a knack for building intensity between characters. Now, excuse me while I read this twenty times.
So much Tentaspy abuse, jeez. - RED Base - It seemed to Spy, even though he’d missed quite a bit while he’d been... elsewhere... that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.  At least when it came to the strategic dynamics of the two opposing forces. Even though they’d not had the heavy losses the REDs had suffered, BLU had it’s own reinforcements.  And now with all those fresh faces and the more experienced counterparts guiding them along he doubted there would be any real advance from either.  And both sides had long since repaired Spy’s meddling with the electrical systems.  He was no engineer but it was much easier to pull out wires and short out fuses than it was to fix anything. On the other hand, he couldn’t find the RED Spy.  He was sure there had to be one, but he couldn’t sniff him out anywhere.  But he didn’t mind too much, his orders didn’t include the RED Spy, he’d be able to hunt him down at his leisure.  Perhaps as a little pick-me-up once this business was over and done with. As for the task at hand, Spy really couldn’t say how long it might take to get the RED Medic out of the safety of his entourage.  He was only ever alone when he demanded privacy and locked himself away in his clinic, he seemed to trust no-one, and he was always keeping his sharp eyes peeled.  Even locked away in silence shadows and doorways were glanced at often, and with deep distrust. Spy sat squeezed in a corner, between the wall and a filing cabinet in the immaculate clinic space, watching the man fill out paperwork to quiet German opera on an antiquated record player.  More time was spent watching the record spin, admittedly.  Some of them were ever so warped, enough that light shifted in reflective lines crossing the grooves as it moved, sometimes a visible scratch would leave a predictable ‘pop’ in the sound.  It was hypnotic and the man was hardly moving, beyond shuffling paper or the old fountain pen scratching on the spaces in one form or another. Spy had been doing this for days.  He’d come to like it, really.  He’d always liked the company of the RED Medic better than his own, even if this man had never seen his true face.  He was stern and demanding, but he was kind.  He was the leader of the opposition because everything he did was for the team; everything.  Never even seeking the company of others unless it was to discreetly check up on them. It was a weakness, wasn’t it? A disgraceful plan formed itself in Spy’s mind then, as the needle reached the label on the record and began making only a soft click and hiss.  It had a great deal of risk, too.  Spy knew he looked terrible, but that... could be an advantage.  He was still all skinny and bruised, limbs marked here and there with nearly-but-not-quite healed scalpel cuts in neat little notches, all sunken eyes and rather pathetic.  And the rust stains never did come out of that white shirt, but he wore it with the tie, anyway. It would play right into the RED Medic’s well-guarded desire to care for others. “Excusez-moi, I would... please don’t ‘urt me if I come out.† Pathetic.  Without even trying that much he sounded dismal. The RED Medic stood up and whirled around, pointing his sidearm in the general direction of what he couldn’t see.  “You vill come out if I intent to hurt you or not!†he barked, sneering at the filing cabinet.  Hopefully nobody outside the locked door was there to hear that. Spy took a deep, audible breath and let himself be seen, free of any trick or disguise.  Unarmed, as usual, save for clawed fingers he raised up in immediate surrender, limbs coiled tight underneath him, and teeth unseen as he lowered his head to look as unthreatening as he possibly could.  “S'il vous plaît, Sir, I am not ‘ere to fight.†For a long moment the RED Medic just stared at him.  Eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise and curiosity, even though Spy’s existence himself was no surprise.  This Medic had known he was the unseen monster lurking about since Scout had captured the intelligence confirming it.  Still, there seemed to be a sense of wonder about the man at finally laying eyes on him.  That was good, probably. “Zhen vhat are you heah for?† The gun wasn’t lowered, but the Medic’s brows had furrowed as he asked, suspicious as ever.  For good reason, of course. “I... I am ‘ungry.† Spy lowered his hands and folded them together against his belly, lowering his head.  “I watch you working sometimes, zinking maybe I can trust you.  And I am too weak to ‘unt.† Weak and harmless, that was it.  Still completely capable of tearing the man apart, but those wasn’t his orders.  He looked up to see if the RED Medic was buying it, with some real and false anxiety showing.  The German didn’t seem to know what to make of him at all.  Briefly, anyway.  His face hardened again soon enough.  “How many of my men have you killedt in some horrible vay, monster?†he snapped.  “Help?  Now you vant me to help you go back out to zhe field and to it all some more?  How stupid do you zhink I am?  Scheiße.†“I don’t ‘ave a choice,†Spy begged, very real dismay at his lot in life choking up his voice.  “Master brought me ‘ere and makes me say, makes me fight.  I would go out in zee open sea if I could, but he won’t let me.† Only the title was a lie, really.  His creator hadn’t ever really wanted to be called that, regardless of how apt it might be.  Spy stayed low but moved forward, clasped hands raised.  “Please.†Again, the stern face seemed to be giving in.  Until Spy moved like that. “Platz!  Stay vhere you ah!† Spy, of course, immediately pressed down against the tile floor, forehead and palms pressed down on the ground.  The RED Medic could use The Words.  Oh no. There was a long silence, while Spy grew genuinely fearful that the man would use them.  He was helpless if he figured it out.  He just had to say ‘Master’ and help the German associate him with being a pet, didn’t he?  This had been a bad idea, a very very bad idea. “Auf!† Just like that, he got right up, sitting on his limbs and giving the RED Medic a miserable look.  “Please don’t.† “Platz!†Too damned smart, he was too damned smart.  Spy went right back to his position on the floor, claws digging in ever so slightly at the gravity of his mistake.  It was the tone, the shape of the man’s voice, the exact phrase being barked right at him.  Spy unhappily figured this was far too likely an outcome, but he hadn’t considered it would work for anybody but his Medic. “You don’t have to do zis, I won’t ‘urt you, I swear eet.†“Zhis is a trick,†the RED Medic spat, striding over and kicking Spy in the ribs.  Spy hissed and his limbs curled ever so slightly, but he didn’t move.  He didn’t move when the man stepped on one, or when he held the barrel of the gun right against the top of his head.  The test continued until the man apparently decided no, it wasn’t a trick.  The creature on the floor was incapable of resisting the power of a single angry syllable. Another long silence.  It was a little maddening, not being able to see what might be going through the man’s head. Soon enough, he felt smooth but work-toughed fingers begin touching him, lifting up the back of his shirt, examining all the marks of various age from his punishment.  Not exactly in the way Spy had hoped for, but this was what he was counting on.  It seemed he looked over ever single mark and cut he could see without actually flipping Spy over before he was done, hand resting by a particularly uncomfortable bruise on his back. “Please don’t ‘urt me,†Spy quietly pleaded, like he would never do if he didn’t have an agenda, but the desire was all too real.  There wasn’t a thing he could do to defend himself like this. So much for BLU’s terrifying monster. “Zhese ahn’t from fighting.†“Non.†“Gib Fuß!†the RED suddenly snapped. But Spy had no idea what that was supposed to be. “Voran!† Nothing.  He remained glued to the floor. “Please..†“Rollen Sie vorbei!† That almost sounded uncertain, but not uncertain enough.  Not really vicious, either, but still, close enough.  Spy rolled on his back with his arms at his sides, looking up at the German with continued anxiety.  There was the very real possibility this was going to get him captured by RED to be shipped out somewhere and experimented on.  It seemed more likely with each passing moment. But the man made no threats, didn’t say anything else.  He loosened the blue tie and unbuttoned Spy’s shirt, but in a detached, clinical manner, not the way Medic did when he was going to... do things.  The RED Medic seemed only interested in feeling his ribs and his innards, as if he were examining any other patient that happened to be lying on his clinic floor instead of the table. “Nozing broken, but your bones are different.  More cartilage zhan bone.  Are you in any pain?†Except for the slowly fading aches and pains, and just getting kicked and stepped on?  No.  Spy shook his head. “You ah malnourished,†the RED muttered, but mostly to himself, really.  “And fascinating.†Spy watched as he was examined all the more, all his limbs squeezed and looked over, his suckers touched, fingers felt and manipulated, eyes and teeth closely inspected.  “Are you going to give me to zee Company?†“Ach, nein,†the Medic replied immediately, like the very idea was distasteful. Oh thank whatever God might watch over abominations of genetic engineering for that.  “Merci, docteur.†The RED Medic shrugged and continued looking him over. “What does “vati†mean?†That got a raised brow, the RED giving Spy a bemused look.  “Vhy? It is a word children use, like ‘daddy’ or ‘papa’.†Spy didn’t answer that, but he did feel a little sick.  He would still have to make himself call Medic that, but he really wished he had never asked. “Zhe BLU Medic?† Still no answer, but whatever the Medic saw when he looked in Spy’s eyes seemed to give him all the answer he needed.  As far as those conclusions might go, he nodded once and went back to taking in the different textures of Spy’s skin.  “I can’t help you kill my men, monster.† RED Medic sobered again, but at least he didn’t say monster with any venom at all this time.  “He ‘asn’t ordered me into zee field.  Not until I ‘ave recovered enough to be useful.† Even the half-truth made him feel a little guilty. “As soon as he does, I don’t van’t to see you again.†“Oui, docteur, merci.  You ‘ave my word.†“Vhatever zhat is worth, mm?† So much for RED’s fearsome, untouchable leader.  They both appeared to have their weaknesses. Part of Spy rejoiced at his own cleverness, having found a way to, in time, lure out the RED Medic beyond the safety of his men, out where Spy could bring him right to his Medic.  Medic would be so pleased.  Medic would have no reason to correct him again.  But part of him despaired.  After so many times he’d longed to be able to go to the RED Medic for help instead of at his creator’s mercy with injuries, to do it like this... it just proved he really was a monster.
It'll grow back eventually. - BLU Base - Spy didn't like that Scout being around all the time.  He always looked blank to the point of being on the verge of more silent tears, like the world had become so hopelessly confusing he couldn't even hope to understand it.  Had to be told to do every little thing, the moment where he might need to make even the smallest choice met with a shake in his right hand.  Every time.  He seemed most calm just sitting there in Medic's office, bending a little forward so he didn't touch the moulded plastic back, hands folded in his lap.  Watching Medic work at his desk with devout interest. Killing him would be mercy.  Only men could think otherwise. Spy didn’t like him at all. How, exactly, his creator had snapped the young man's poor little mind so quickly was something he could mostly just speculate about; even if he preferred not to think about it his mind always strove to stay busy.  But it was just like that captured Soldier a year ago; the white noise experiment.  Unsettling to say the least. Ignored by the Scout, Spy slid up to Medic's chair and put his head on his knee.  A hand immediately settled on it, stroking his damp hair. "What did you do?" Medic asked, but didn't sound angry.  Yet.  But he knew it had been something. "I let zee RED Medic see me, Vati."  The name left a sour taste on his tongue, saying it again now that he knew what sick pleasure the Medic got out of it.  But he tried not to let on and tried to ignore it. The hand stilled.  The response was carefully measured.  "Continue." "He took pity on me.  Fed me and let me go, I made sure 'e didn't tell anyone.  Zere was no other way to lure him out.  I will.  I just 'ave to earn 'is trust." The hand resumed its gentle petting and Spy breathed a sigh of relief. "An unusually crafty plan for you," the Medic remarked.  "He took pity on you?" It did sound a bit unbelievable, just saying it like that.  Why would anybody ever take pity on him?  But... he had.  The RED Medic had taken all his pains away with the Medigun, like this one would never bother wasting the glowing blue fluid on, and he'd had his Heavy bring him dinner just to put it in the corner to watch Spy eat.  He'd even given him a pack of cigarettes. "Oui, Vati. "Made him zhink you are some helpless boy trapped in a horrible body, undeservedly beaten by your handler?"  Medic laughed a little.  "He must be more stupid than I thought." RED Medic was anything but stupid.  He was clever and generous. "Oui, Vati." "Vell, then.  I will just have to give him plenty of reason to pity you." - RED Base - The Medic had told the truth; no Company men came, he wasn't locked up, nobody else even seemed to know he was there.  It was just as before, with the change coming behind RED Medic's locked clinic door. Spy locked it himself this time, and this time, the RED Medic didn't even look up.  As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he just nodded at a covered plate on his desk as he kept on working.  Spy approached it with interest, smelling out the contents before he settled down to open it up and eat.  Chicken and pork, a potato with a wide notch cut in the top for butter to melt (now cold, but that was fine), an apple, and a little cup of green beans sitting there like drooping green straws.  He'd never been able to enjoy 'normal' food with this kind of regularity; he could eat just about anything but he did enjoy how much preparation people had the luxury of putting into their meals. But before Spy could pluck up any of it to savour, there was a knock on the door.  He didn't have to be told to make himself invisible, to hide away in 'his' corner while Medic got up and opened the door.  It happened once or twice, whoever it was would just go away once they'd gotten what they came for... It was Scout. Scout looked taller, somehow.  Older.  There was a sprinkling of stubble on his chin and a hard look to his eyes, even though he was smiling at the Medic, bending down a little to hold a knee with bloody scuffs marring the trousers. "Hey doc, think I fucked up my leg." "Baseball again?" "Builds teamwork and shit, you should learn from me."  Same old cocky grin, as he limped into the room and hopped up on the exam table.  "Ain't no fun with just three players, I could definitely use Fatty behind the plate and Cockbag pitchin' and shit." "I am not going to order zhe men to play your games," RED Medic sighed, rolling his eyes as he gestured at the trousers.  "Take zhem off, I can't see a zhing like that." "You just can't wait to get me outta my pants." The RED Medic adjusted his glasses with a tolerant annoyance until Scout obeyed, wincing as he wiggled the dirty pants onto the floor, right over his dusty shoes. Scout was so close.  Right there, only a few feet away.  He hadn't been this close since he'd thrown Spy out of the Sniper's nest, so long ago.  "Man, it smells funny in here," Scout commented, looking around and seemingly ignoring the German's careful manipulation of his leg.  "Like..."  He got a faraway look on his face, seemed to put the pieces together, and pushed the Medic back, pulling his trusty pistol out of his satchel. "Vhat are you..?" "He's fuckin' in here man," Scout hissed, jumping down with all his weight on the good leg, looking bloodthirsty and dangerous... even if he was hopping around in his underwear.  "Come on out squidfag, I still got your fuckin' number.  I ain't playin' around." "Scout, bitte, calm down." "I ain't gonna be fuckin' calm, he... wait."  There was a tense moment where Scout searched Medic's face, seeing nothing but the complete lack of concern Spy could.  The Medic was searching right back, guardedly. It was the shirt, the damned shirt.  It reeked of the canal, but it hadn't worried Spy, he hadn't expected anyone to associate a whiff of the underground that was everywhere with his presence.  But Scout... Scout knew. Scout knew. Spy revealed himself and calmly rose up, sitting on his limbs with his back against the filing cabinet. "What the fuck is goin' on here?" The Medic calmly stepped back and locked the door, then put his hand over Scout's weapon, lowering it away from the aim at Spy's face.  "Sniper did tell me you knew him, so I vould expect you to understand, Herr.  He came to me for help." "Do you even know what he did?  What he did to fuckin' Other Scout?  What he did to..." "Ja, I know." "Then why..?"  Scout frowned at Spy, who just waited there for the people to sort it out. Spy's role here was to be desperate and submissive, but it was a bit more difficult to hide the truth from Scout.  Scout speaking of him like that made the desire to jump on him almost impossible to ignore.  He just wanted to hold him down and taste his blood, feel the familiar shape of his body and give him fear choosing that brain-dead thing in Medic's clutches over the one that had saved him from the same fate, who gave up the rest of his freedom to give him what he wanted.  Medic would never have had reason to torture him for weeks on end if not for Scout.  And Scout still had the audacity to spark longing with his very presence. "Man, Spy.  You look like shit." “He promised me zhat he vould...†“I don’t fuckin care man!†Scout interrupted.  “Lyin’ fuckin sack of shit you better lock him up if you know what’s fuckin’ good for you, man.  It’s gonna be everyone gettin’ nabbed all over again, fuck man, do you even..!?†“Tais toi!  Do you even know ‘e did zis to me because of you?† Spy snarled and ignored the gun, grabbing at the front of his red shirt, claws tearing it as he pulled them close together.  “I ‘elped you, all zee leetle ways you were so ungrateful for, so I get to be [/i]corrected.[/i]†“You fucked up my partner so fuckin’ bad he’s a goddamn fuckin’ zombie!†Scout yelled right back, shoving the gun in Spy’s chest. “Zhat wasn’t me and you know it, petit, eet was ‘im or me.†“Ain’t you just a fuckin’ hero!†“‘E ‘as been beating me my whole life ‘ow did you expect me to say no?†“No!  I fuckin’, I don’t,†Scout spat.  “An’ that’s why I can’t trust you.  Get your nasty fuckin’ horror-movie mitts off me.†Spy didn’t so much let go as hiss and rip the shirt right open as he pulled back.  He’d been around too many people for too long, it was confusing him.  Getting lost in the People Way of Things, it was pathetic.  He grabbed his plate of food, his, hissing at both of them as he backed toward the door.  But they were both apparently going to let him go, Scout looking red-faced and the Medic... conflicted. “Why you only got seven legs?†Scout suddenly asked, only marginally less harshly than the accusations. Couldn’t he guess? Spy didn’t answer, cloaking and retreating back to his home.  He had to go remind himself of just who’s side he was on before he got himself worse than a severed limb.
Shankie, you are awe inspiring. There's just something about the way you write Scout that makes me love him. I think it's his 'no shit' attitude. And Spy does have accountability that he doesn't acknowledge. Gawww, but you can still feel that smoldering sexual tension between them. Please, please keep it up!
This story and "Water" was what made me feel bad about Tentaspies, so I'm very glad to see it not only back but being continued.
I wasn't expecting to find this after, what, three years? Pleasantly surprised!
>>17 GODDAMN LEARN TO SAGE Why you felt the need to comment on a fic from 2011 is beyond me, but you could at least have the courtesy not to necrobump GAWD