“Rosie? Pumpkin?”

Rosie lifted her head from her pillow slightly, just enough so that only the lower half of her face was buried in it. She squeezed the pillow tighter. Perhaps if she ignored him, he’d take the hint and just leave her alone to stew in her misery.

“Honey, can we talk?” His voice came out muffled from behind the closed door.

“Just go away,” she said. “I jus’ wanna be left alone right now.”

“Please don’t do this to me, Rosie,” he pleaded. “I was gonna tell you, I jus’ hadn’t had th’ chance.”

“I don’t want him livin’ with me!” she shouted back at him. “He’s… he’s a crazy person! Like Uncle Wyatt!”

“Uncle Wyatt ain’t that bad…”

“He was raised by prairie dogs!”

“An’ he’s adjusted t’ society quite well considering, but that ain’t what we’re talkin’ about,” said Engineer. “C’mon, Rosie, he’s a friend a’ mine, I’ve known him fer years…”

“He’s scary an’ mean an’ I don’t want him livin’ in th’ same house with me,” she reiterated. “You… you heard what he tried t’ do! What makes you think he won’t try an’ hurt me?”

“I know he wouldn’t.”

“I ain’t so sure I can believe that.”

“Look, Rosie, he’s not a bad person. He’s ill. He ain’t so bad when ya git t’ know him. An’ I think we could help him.”

She clutched the pillow tighter to her chest and curled up tighter. She didn’t want to go back out there. Not when everybody saw her angry, and certainly not when Sniper saw her angry. What would he think of her now? Well, he didn’t like Soldier either, but she still felt embarrassed. She held the pillow over her face, as if she were attempting to hide. “Jus’ leave me alone.”

There was a brief pause from behind the door. Of course, that meant daddy was thinking, and was going to try a different approach. She could practically see the wind-up, followed by the pitch…

“Rosalie May Conagher, I am your father,” he said. “An’ as your father, I want you t’ come outside an’ apologize t’ him for what you said.”

“He don’t even care!” Rosie protested, removing the pillow from her face.

“It was still rude!” he said. “I raised you better n’ that! Your mother raised you better n’ that!”

“Don’t bring Mama inta this!” Rosie shouted.

“Why shouldn’t I?” He was raising his voice now. “You think she would a’ wanted t’ see you behavin’ like this? Sittin’ in yer room, throwin’ a temper tantrum like a child, bein’ disrespectful to guests that happen t’ be my closest friends?”

“Yer closest friends are creeps an’ crazy people!” she retorted. She wanted to add “except for Sniper,” but she hesitated. Daddy didn’t need to know about that.

“They’re good people, Rosalie, I wouldn’t be friends with ‘em if they weren’t.”

She didn’t say anything. It was hard for her to deny that her father had a talent for bringing out the best in people. But these men yelled and argued and smoked in the house and made her feel uncomfortable. On top of that, she suspected that they had killed people. Her daddy had never been part of the war in Vietnam. He’d taken the job with RED after losing his job at the University and having to resort to working with Grandpa in the oil fields, when he had one day come home and gushed about a lucrative but top-secret offer he had been made. It had been years, and yet, she had never found out what he was doing there. Her mother and her grandmother never told her, though her grandmother would often imply that whatever he was doing wasn’t honest. But she was just seven then, and she figured her daddy was doing something heroic or noble, like being an astronaut or a secret agent or even a knight fighting dragons. Now that she was older, she knew that all of that was just silly… but now, thinking about it, and about how no one wanted to talk about it, she suddenly felt very afraid.

The doorknob rattled uselessly, and she could hear her father let out a weighty sigh. “C’mon, unlock th’ door an’ come on back outside.”

“I ain’t not coming out.” She rolled over on her bed, so that she was on her side, facing the wall. “I won’t be no fun anyway. Jus’ go.”

For a few moments, her father did not answer. She could see him though, in her mind, shaking his head and placing his hands on his hips, looking disappointed. He would look at her and she would feel overwhelmed with guilt; it was entirely different from the sad, doe-eyed look she would give her father to win him over. That expression was one that could make her feel as if she had let something precious slip through her fingers, and the only way to redeem herself would be to cave in.

She had never been so thankful that the door was closed.

“Well, all right,” he sighed. “You stay in here. Make me look like a fool in front of my friends. I’ll be waitin’ with everybody else once yer ready t’ join us.” His footfalls could be heard, becoming softer and softer as he walked down the hallway.

She sat up on her bed, hugging her pillow close and staring at the door. After waiting a few minutes, she flopped backwards back on her bed. She idly looked over her room; her finished paintings of unicorns and fairies and dragons leaning against a bookshelf crammed with fantasy novels and old children’s books from over the years, the walls of her room were plastered with posters of rock star and movie star crushes of hers, and old stuffed animals of horses and unicorns and dogs still dotted parts of her room. She felt safe in here. Her father’s friends wouldn’t come here. She could just lie there for a while and gather her thoughts. Or, perhaps, she could just mope.

Either way, she had made up her mind.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————
——————————————————————————

Engineer walked to the kitchen, and noticed Sniper coming in from the back of the house, swinging over to the fridge and opening the door as though he had lived there himself. Sniper looked up to see Engineer coming in, and grabbed a second can.

“You need a drink, mate?”

“Yeah,” said Engineer. “Though, I could a’ gotten you another beer if ya asked.”

“Dinnit’ wanna bother ya,” said Sniper, handing Engineer an ice-cold bottle. “Is… is that all right?”

“It’s fine,” said Engineer. “It don’t even really matter anyway. Yer pretty much family, far as I’m concerned.”

“Sorry,” Sniper mumbled.

“Don’t apologize,” said Engineer, fishing out his bottle-opener and popping off the cap. He took a swig, and smirked. “Been drinkin’ a lot more since everybody got here.”

“Reunions’re a bitch, aren’t they?” Sniper said, taking the bottle opener Engineer handed off to him. “I take it Rosie’s not comin’ out, is she?”

“I’m hopin’ she’ll come out eventually,” he said. “You’ll find out all about teenagers soon enough.”

“Yeah,” said Sniper, as the cap on his beer popped off with a hiss. It nearly rolled to the floor before Sniper managed to catch it without spilling any of his beer. “Still got it.”

Engineer chuckled, but his smile faded as soon as it had come. “How’s everybody doin’ out there?”

“Mostly havin’ their own conversations,” said Sniper with a shrug. “No big group discussions ‘r nothin’. Everybody seems a bit uneasy…”

“Hey!” Bunny came inside, closing the door behind her. “Can a girl come in from the heat fer a while?”

“Oh, make yerself at home,” said Engineer, turning all his attention to her immediately. He set down his beer and strode over to help her, only to have her wave him off.

“I can walk jus’ fine,” she said. “You got a couch I can sit down on fer a while?”

“‘Course I do!” said Engineer. “Living room’s just over there.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Jus’ uncomfortable out, is all.” She walked to the living room, moving carefully as she did, before slowly lowering herself onto the couch and sinking into it.

Sniper quickly lost interest in Scout’s wife, and turned back to Engineer. “You goin’ back out, then?”

“Might as well,” said Engineer, picking his beer back up. “They need somebody playin’ referee out there.”

“Good luck,” said Sniper. Engineer left, giving Sniper a wave without turning around. Sniper watched him leave, and heard the sound of a television blinking to life, followed by the sounds of a baseball commentator, and the tinny sounds of a roaring crowd. He peered inside the living room and saw Bunny fishing through her purse. She pulled out a pack of bubblegum, unwrapped a piece and popped it in her mouth, chewing on it and staring at the television with a steely-eyed intensity. Sniper hovered in the doorway, not sure if he should start a conversation, or how to even start one.

She looked up at him, and she blew a bubble and quickly popped it, pulling the deflated wad back into her mouth to be gnashed against her molars. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“Uh…” Sniper shifted his weight and propped his forearm against the doorframe, and leaned on it. “Nuffin’s wrong.” God, he felt like an idiot. “Game on?”

Bunny gave him a look that told him just how stupid the question he asked was, and rolled her eyes. “Yeah.”

“You all right?” Sniper asked. “You were jes’ so bubbly an’ wotnot before…”

“Yeah, well, now I’m in a bad mood,” she said. “I don’t like bein’ lied to.”

“Fair enough,” said Sniper.

“You lie to yer girlfriend about what you did?” Bunny asked flatly. “What was her name, Treeflower or somethin’?”

“Moonchild,” Sniper corrected.

“Yeah,” said Bunny. “You ever tell her what you were doin’?”

Sniper hesitated. “She knows,” he said. “She ain’t exactly keen on it.”

“I guess not,” said Bunny.

There was a sound coming from down the hallway on the other end of the house, a soft sobbing that was barely audible over the drone of the television. Sniper looked towards the direction of the sound, and realized who it was.

“Poor girl,” he murmured to himself.

“What’s that?” Bunny asked, turning her attention away from the TV and back to Sniper.

“Rosie,” said Sniper. “Poor girl’s cryin’.”

“Let her,” said Bunny. “Sometimes a girl needs a good cry.”

He shifted again, pushing himself off of the doorframe. His mouth suddenly felt dry, and he swallowed, his throat bobbing nervously. He lifted the beer bottle to his lips and tilted it back, letting it pour down his throat, but it didn’t do much. His mind seemed to be teetering between going back outside to escape the uncomfortable sounds of crying, or going over to stop it somehow himself. The poor girl had quite a shock, and considering that Engineer was seriously considering having Soldier live with him, he couldn’t blame her. She seemed like a nice kid, really. It seemed to him like she just needed somebody to talk to.

As he walked down the hall towards her room, however, he started having his doubts. He was never good at giving advice or cheering people up… Demoman had claimed Sniper had brought him back from the brink of depression after his mum died, but Sniper wasn’t sure if it was he that did that or the fact that Demoman just had a familiar face around again. He stood in front of her door, suddenly feeling awkward. This probably would have looked fishy to the casual observer. Despite this new self-awareness, he found himself rapping on her door with his knuckles cautiously.

“I told you to leave me alone, Daddy!” she shouted.

“It ain’t yer dad,” Sniper said. “It’s me.”

There was silence from the other side of the door. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Sniper thought; you’re a stupid idiot and you should just leave now. “I’ll jes’ leave ya alone, I guess,” he said, and turned to walk away.

There was the sound of a metal click, and Sniper turned around to see the door slightly ajar, and the young girl standing just behind it. She looked at him, her eyes puffy and red from crying, and sniffled. She seemed embarrassed by his presence, and being seen like this, and hid halfway behind the door.

“You all right?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh,” said Sniper. A part of his brain was screaming at him to just leave, let the girl ride it out and come back out as good as new. But his mouth betrayed him. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

Her eyes turned down to the floor for a few moments, and she bit her lip pensively. “A-all right,” she said, gripping the edge of the door as she stepped back a few paces and opened it wider. “You wanna come in?”

“Is that all right?” Sniper asked.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Come on in.”

He stepped inside, and looked around. The first thing that struck him was how overwhelmingly pink her room was; soft pink wallpaper with white stripes, pink bedspread with a rose pattern, stuffed animals of pink unicorns and ponies strewn about, and the wall closest to her bed plastered with posters and cut-outs of magazines. Already he was starting to feel odd.

“You can sit down,” she said softly. “There’s a stool in th’ corner over there.”

Sniper turned his head and noticed the stool and easel in the corner of the room. There was an unfinished painting upon the easel, depicting a regal-looking dragon, wings spread behind it as it overlooked a cliff.

“That yours?” he asked, leaning in closer.

“Yeah,” she said, sitting on her bed and sniffling. “Ain’t finished, though.”

“S’nice,” Sniper said, pulling his aviators down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at it. “You like dragons, then, eh?”

“I like fantasy in general,” she said, smiling a bit and wiping her eyes. “You… you said you were a Lord of th’ Rings fan? ‘Cause I heard you mention Bilbo Baggins, earlier, an’ I thought you’d probably read th’ books.”

“Well, I read th’ books back around th’ time they were published,” said Sniper, pulling the stool away from the easel and setting himself down on it. “They were pretty good, I guess. I gotta admit, I think I liked Th’ Hobbit better.”

“Really?” asked Rosie, her face lighting up. “Th’ Lord of th’ Rings are my favorite books. Why’d you like Th’ Hobbit better?”

“‘Cos Tolkien dinnit’ spend 12 pages describin’ a bloody forest, is why.”

“Well, he wrote Th’ Hobbit as a children’s book…”

“Seriously?” asked Sniper.

“Yeah,” said Rosie, pulling her legs into an Indian-style position. “That’s why it’s easier to read.”

Sniper frowned, his pride obviously wounded. “Bilbo was a better main character, anyway.”

Rosie giggled. “It’s okay, I know plenty a people who have trouble getting’ through those books.”

“Yeah…” Sniper crossed his arms and leaned back into the wall. “You don’t gotta try an’ make me feel better, you know. I came in here t’ help you feel better.”

“That’s awfully sweet of you,” she said, her face tinting pink enough to match her room. “You didn’t hafta come t’ cheer me up.”

“I heard ya cryin’.”

Rosie averted her eyes from Sniper, he face now burning and red. “You did, huh?”

“It’s all right,” said Sniper. “I can’t blame ya fer bein’ upset about yer dad wantin’ Soldier t’ shack up here. I mean, Truckie’s a good man an’ all, he’d jes’ about bend over backwards t’ help ya out, but that seems like a bit much, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know!” Rosie said, scooting forward on the bed and closer to Sniper. “I mean, he’s jus’ so scary!”

“He’s a blowhard,” said Sniper. “An’ he’s a bleedin’ lunatic. If his medication is makin’ him mellow like that, then that’s fine by me.”

“I think he’s kinda scary even when he’s on it,” she said, pulling up her knees and hugging them. “An’ I don’t even know that ‘Pyro’ feller…”

“Ah, Pyro wos a good kid,” said Sniper. “‘Least I think he was a kid. I dunno, he always kinda acted like one, so we kinda assumed he was younger than most a’ us. I think you’d like ‘im, actually. He liked readin’ an’ watchin’ Star Trek an’ science fiction movies when he wasn’t settin’ things on fire.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… he was always real quiet, though. Mostly ‘cause he wore his gasmask all th’ time an’ refused t’ take it off. T’ be perfectly honest, nobody knew fer sure if he really was a bloke.”

“Why didn’t he take his mask off?” Rosie asked.

“I dunno,” said Sniper, shrugging. “I always assumed it wos ‘cos he was fuck-ugly.”

Rosie giggled in spite of herself. Her father never swore beyond the occasional “hell” and “damn,” and to think that he was friends with a man who so casually dropped the F-bomb amused her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t be laughin’.”

“It’s all right,” said Sniper. “Long as yer not cryin’ anymore, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah…” Her smile faded again, as her mind returned to the reason of her distress.

“Oi,” said Sniper. “If it’s any consolation, I think yer dad is jes’ about th’ only person that could manage t’ get Solly t’ behave. If Solly’s so miserable that yer dad thinks he needs a change a’ pace… guess he’s probably right.”

She didn’t say anything. She propped her elbows on her knees and crossed her arms, looking to her bookshelf.

“Hey now, it prolly won’t be that bad,” said Sniper. “We all got used t’ ‘im. Even Doc an’ Heavy did, an’ he never let up on them fer bein’ pooftahs. ‘Sides, I don’t think yer dad would let him stay if he thought he was gonna hurt you.”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Yeah, I s’pose yer right.”

“He cares about you a lot, ya know,” said Sniper. “He’s a better person than I would’ve expected, workin’ where we were.”

“What were you doin’ those two years?” Rosie asked.

Sniper leaned forward, planting his feet firmly on the ground, and placed his beer between his feet. “I don’t think that’s my place t’ tell ya,” he said. “That’s fer yer dad t’ say.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding dejected.

“‘Ey, don’t worry, kiddo,” said Sniper. “He’ll tell ya when he’s ready. I don’t think he likes keepin’ secrets from ya about anythin’. Th’ whole reason he worked th’ job wos ‘cause he cared about you an’ yer mum so much, an’ wanted you t’ have the money. He loves you an’ wants wot’s best fer ya.”

She smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I guess I feel a little better now.”

“Good,” said Sniper, smiling. “Yer a good kid. I don’t think Solly would give ya a hard time if ya play along with ‘im.”

“Yeah…” she said. “You know… yer one a’ th’ nicest boys I ever met.” She immediately realized what she had said when Sniper gave her an odd look. “Well, I mean, ya ain’t a boy, yer too old fer that… yer a man. Yer one a’ th’ nicest men I ever met.”

“Thanks,” said Sniper. “Been a while since I’ve been called a boy.”

“I didn’t mean no offense or nothin’ by it!” Rosie insisted. “I mean, I don’t know a whole lot a’ people around here who actually like Lou Reed an’ Lord of th’ Rings an’ yer really nice t’ me an’ ya don’t look down on me an’ yer so… cool.” She was gushing at this point. “Like, you know, yer jus’ so relaxed and yer kinda like a rock star that way… I jus’ wish I could meet a boy like you.”

“That’s very flatterin’,” said Sniper. His tone was becoming more wary, and his eyes darted towards the door.

“I jus’ wish…” she crawled forward toward him on her bed, stopping at the end, her heart pounding in her chest like an automated hammer on steel, and her stomach fluttering like a plastic bag on the wind. “I jus’ wish you were younger or I was older… then maybe… maybe we could…” She stopped. Her eyes met with Sniper’s and suddenly she felt panic as he looked at her in confusion. No. This wasn’t working. Embarrassed, she sat back down. Sniper continued to look at her with a bemused expression, while Rosie pulled her legs into a pretzel. “We could hang out sometime,” she said.

“I’m a little too old t’ be hangin’ out with girls yer age,” Sniper said with a nervous laugh. “You an’ yer dad are welcome t’ stop by an’ visit me an’ me family, if ya like.”

She nodded, trying not to blush to hard. “O-okay.”

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“It’s nothin’!” She said. She sounded perhaps a little too defensive. “Jus’ don’t worry about it none.”

“If you say so.”

She took a deep breath. Sniper was looking uncomfortable, his gaze lingering on the door. He stood up from his seat, picking up the beer bottle he had left between his feet. “I’d best be leavin’,” he said. “Anybody finds out I’m in me mate’s daughter’s room, there’s liable t’ be some funny looks.”

“Wait!”

Sniper glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Your girlfriend… is she nice?”

He gave her an odd look, and seemed to be mulling over his answer. “She’s done right by me,” he said. “An’ I try an’ do right by her. Wouldn’t a’’wound up with her if I didn’t like her.”

“Is she pretty?”

Sniper smiled a bit. “Yeah,” he said. “She’s very pretty. Even after havin’ a kid an’ taggin’ along with me, she’s still beautiful.”

“Good,” she said. “I bet she’s as pretty an’ as nice as you deserve.”

“I wouldn’t go insultin’ her like that,” Sniper said with a laugh. “That’s jes’ rude.”

“I dinnit’ mean it like-!”

He waved it off. “Jes’ joshin’,” he said. “Though sometimes I think she is better than a washed-up ole’ bushman like me deserves.”

She felt a pang of sadness, hearing him say that. Why would he think something like that? She thought. “I don’t think you should be so hard on yerself,” she said. “I like ya plenty.” She immediately wished she could take that last statement back. Her and her big, stupid mouth, she thought. She hung her head sheepishly.

He shuffled closer to the door, and rested his hand on the knob. He knew what she had said, and what was implied by it. He seemed to labor over what exactly to say in response, before he finally settled. “You’re a good kid, Rosie,” he said. “Jes’ don’t get yerself in trouble, ya hear?”

She looked back up at him. He was offering her a soft, friendly smile, which tugged the scar along his face upwards. Without thinking, she rushed off of her bed, ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him, taking Sniper by surprise as he spread out his arms awkwardly.

“Thank you,” she said.

Sniper wasn’t sure how to respond. Slowly, he lowered his arms and wrapped them around her with a cautious gentleness, before patting her back. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Jes’ wanted t’ cheer ya up, is all.”

“Ya did,” she said. “I think I owe Daddy an apology. I jus’ hope he won’t be too mad.”

“It’s hard t’ get that man too mad about much of anythin’,” said Sniper. “I’ll bet you know that jes’ as well as me, though.”

She held onto him, taking in his scent. He smelled like cheap cologne, old sweat and dusty ground. He actually could have stood to have a bath, but right now, she didn’t much care. His body was warm and she gave his torso a squeeze before forcing herself to let go.

“I’ll be out with everybody else in a minute,” she said. “You go on ahead, I guess.”

“All right,” he said. “You can let go now, kid.”

Startled, she let go of him, stepping back a pace and holding her hands behind her back. “Sorry,” she said. “Got excited, is all.”

“I can tell.”

Her face was now almost as red as the hair on her head. “Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta apologize,” he said. “You jes’ be good, okay?”

She nodded obediently. “I promise.”

“Good.” He smiled, and left her room, closing the door behind him gently. He walked a few paces before taking a swig from his beer bottle. “Christ,” he muttered, taking off his sunglasses and cupping his face with his palm. The last time he had gotten involved with a young girl like that, he ended up in a relationship with her and knocking her up. Moonchild had only been 20 when they met, older and somewhat wiser than Engineer’s starry-eyed, sheltered little girl. Sometimes, he wondered if it had been a bad idea to pick her and her friends up when they were hitchhiking their way to some concert in New York state; letting the willowy, spacey, blonde little thing talk him into kissing her; sleeping with her; and letting her stick around on his trip across the country, not sure what they were looking for, but sure they would know when they found it. They had never met each other parents. She never talked about them and said that she hated them, though she never said why, and he had only told his mum about his girlfriend and his son over the phone, and sent his mother pictures. His father had stopped talking to him completely. He and Moonchild would probably never have a proper marriage, and at this point, he wasn’t sure if he could keep his relationship with her together for much longer. There had been a youthful spark in her when they had met, one of optimism and naivete and the kind of youthful energy that ran rampant in the 1960’s. But now, at 27 years old, his girlfriend had become bitter, cynical, and jaded, not unlike him. The spark was gone, and it was so bright and shining in Rosie. It would be easy for some clown to come along and kill that tiny, delicate spark, and leave Rosie as burnt out as Moonchild was. The last thing that girl needed was to meet a man like him.

“Where were you?”

Sniper turned and noticed that he had been walking alongside the living room,and noticed Bunny looking up at him. “You didn’t go in her room, didja?”

“I thought she might need somebody to talk to,” Sniper said. “That’s all.”

Bunny frowned. “I told you to leave her alone. Goin’ inta young girls rooms like that is weird. Or is that normal in Australia?”

“Trust me, th’ last thing I’d ever want is t’ get involved with me mate’s teenage daughter,” said Sniper.

She leaned back and rubbed her round, protruding stomach. “If you say so, hon.”

“Do me a favor though, an’ don’t let Truckie know,” said Sniper. “I jes’ don’t want him gettin’ th’ wrong idea.”

“Fine,” said Bunny. “My lips are sealed.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “Good,” he said, turning to leave. “You take it easy, now.”

“S’all I been doin’, Hon,” Bunny replied, as Sniper ventured back outside with the others.

“You’re too soft on her, Engie.”

“You think so?”

“’Course I do,” said Soldier, tapping his plastic spade against the surface of the table. Most everybody else was wrapped up in their own conversations; Spy took his seat over by Heavy and Medic, talking with them about Baroque composers, and Demoman and Scout were joined by Sniper, telling each other stories. Engineer was the only one really willing to talk with Soldier. “She’s spoiled, Engie. You’re treating her with kid gloves. It’s no proper way to raise a child.”

“I can be plenty stern with her,” said Engineer.

“Can you?” asked Soldier.

Engineer crossed his arms indignantly. “‘Course I am. She’s got a strict curfew. I don’t let her go out with any boys by herself. ‘Course, th’ only friends she seems t’ have are boys, those fellers that she plays Dungeons an’ Dragons with on Friday nights.”

“Dungeons and what now?”

“It’s a role-playing game,” said Engineer. “It’s kinda complicated an’ she’s th’ only girl in their group. All their meetings are here, so’s I can keep an eye on ‘em.”

Soldier’s brow furrowed, trying to run the name over in his mind. “Isn’t that some kind of Satanist thing?”

“What? No!” Engineer exclaimed. “It’s a fantasy type game, with wizards an’ elves an’ whatnot. She’s really inta those kinds a’ things. You have a character an’ they have a sheet fulla’ statistics an’ you go on quests an’ fight monsters, only yer pretendin’ t’ fight monsters an’ rollin’ dice… I don’t know, I’ve only watched them do it a few times.”

“That’s stupid,” said Soldier. “She’s 16 years old, she’s too old to be playing pretend.”

“It’s a bit more advanced than playin’ with Barbie dolls.”

“Even if it’s not Satanist, it’s still ridiculous,” said Soldier. “My parents would have never tolerated me playing little girl games like that, pretending to be some kind of Christmas elf.”

“I like bein’ able t’ support her interests.”

Soldier didn’t respond right away. He drummed his shovel on the table for a bit, as though trying to come up with a response.

“‘Sides,” said Engineer, “she ain’t comin’ out of her room until she’s ready to apologize.”

“That so?” Soldier sounded completely disinterested.

“That is so,” said Engineer. “She knows better than to be so rude.”

“Daddy?”

Engineer turned his attention away from Soldier, looking to the doorway at his daughter. She was clinging to the doorframe, with only her head and hand poking out, looking sheepish.

“Yeah, Pumpkin?”

“Could you… come inside a minute?” she asked.

“Sure,” said Engineer. He looked back at Solider. “I’ll be back in a tick.”

Soldier mumbled incoherently, and waved Engineer off. Engineer understood, and stood up from his chair, joining his daughter inside. She closed the door, as though checking to make sure that no one else was listening.

“I wanted t’ apologize,” she said. “I’m sorry fer what I said. T’ you an’ everybody.”

Engineer smiled. “I’m glad,” he said. “What prompted this change a’ heart, if I may ask?”

Her fingers reached up to her curly red hair, and started to twirl a ringlet around her index finger. “I… uh, well, I thought about it a bit, an’ you were right. I’m… I jus’ don’t…” She bit her lip. “I am still scared about… yer friend.”

“He’d never hurt you,” said Engineer. “I can promise you that, if that’s what yer worried about.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know that… I jus’… he’s still scary.”

“He ain’t so bad, when ya get t’ know ‘im,” said Engineer, wrapping an arm around his daughter’s shoulder. “He always did right by us, you know. He may not’ve liked Heavy or Medic… or Spy… or Sniper… but he’d take a bullet fer any of us. He’s jus’ that kinda guy. Team before anythin’ else. An’ as far as he’s concerned, yer part of th’ team.”

“All right,” she said. She didn’t feel that much better, if she were to be completely honest, but she couldn’t let her father know that. “He’d be stayin’ in th’ guest room, then, huh?”

“Why, you worried he’s gonna take over your room?” Engineer asked with a chuckle. “I don’t think you gotta worry about that.”

“I was jus’ askin’” she said. “What about that Pyro feller, if you find him? Where would he be stayin’?”

“I s’pose we could find some extra room. We could always clear out some room in th’ attic, if need be.” He clapped his hand on her shoulder, and rubbed her back. “Don’t you worry about it. ‘Sides, you’ll prolly be off at college before long.” She smiled at him, and he sighed. “You’ve grown up so fast, you know that?”

“You say that all th’ time, Daddy.”

“Don’t make it any less true,” said Engineer. “You comin’ back outside with th’ rest a’ us?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “I… I don’t know… I kinda made myself look like a fool out there. Everybody saw me act like that an’ I… I don’t think it’s a good idea, is all.”

Frowning, Engineer lifted his hand from his daughters shoulder and sighed. “Well, all right,” he said. “Jus’ a shame, is all. I don’t think anybody’s gonna hold it against ya. In fact, I think everybody’s calmed down a bit…”

No sooner had Engineer uttered those last few words than Demoman could be heard from outside, rambling angrily about something to the other people at the table. He rolled his eyes. “Spoke too soon,” he muttered, and opened the door, to see Demoman standing over the table, beer bottle in hand, jabbing his finger towards anybody that happened to be listening to him.

“We aughta be ashamed o’ ourselves, sittin’ ‘ere like this, doin’ nothin’ tae help ‘im! I’ve been tae New York, in Harlem, an’ lemme tell ye, it’s like feckin’ Glasgow o’er there! He’s lucky nobody’s decided tae set aboot ‘im!”

“Oh, please,” said Spy. “He set people on fire for a living, it’s not like he’s incapable of defending himself.”

“Well, he dinnae have ‘is bloody flamethrower, noo, does he?”

“What’s all this, then?” Engineer asked.

“Demo’s had too many beers an’ wants us all t’ drop everythin’ an’ rescue Pyro,” said Sniper.

“Oh, like yer busy at all!” Demoman retorted. “Yer no’ even workin’! Yer jes’ sittin’ at home all day, tokin’ up an’ watchin’ H.R. Pufnstuf.”

“He’s what?” Soldier asked, suddenly becoming much more alert.

“Hey, hey, hey! That’s not true!” Sniper said. “H.R. Pufnstuf’s not even on anymore.”

“Oh, right, I s’pose it’d be th’ Muppet Show, then.”

Spy could no longer contain his laughter, braying like a mule, and punctuation his laughter with abrupt snorts. Sniper glared at Spy, who seemed undaunted by the gesture. The Australian then crossed his arms in indignation and slumped forward in his seat. “Not like you ain’t ever had a puff, Demo,” he grumbled.

“Now, wait jus’ a minute, there!” said Engineer. As he pressed both palms onto the table, he could feel Soldier bristling beside him, and noticed that he was staring at Sniper and Demoman. “Look, you ain’t gonna accomplish nothin’ by fightin’ like this.”

“Yer right,” said Demoman. “We should be goin’ out there right noo an’ rescuin’ ‘im!”

“Man, I really want to, but you’ve all seen Bunny, right?” Scout gestured towards the house with his thumb. “She’s eight months pregnant, man. I can’t leave her just ta go look for Pyro in New York. ‘Sides, I got responsibilities an’ shit.”

“I nevah zhought I vould say zis, but Scout is right,” said Medic. “Ve all have our own responsibilities, Demoman. I have a practice I must go back to, viz patients to treat, und Heavy has his dog to take care of at home.”

“Da,” Heavy said, looking glum. “That is true.”

“Oh come off it!” Demoman shouted. He turned to Soldier. “Wot aboot you? You dinnae even have a job, ye don’ have any excuse!”

Soldier narrowed his eyes. “I can’t go anywhere without permission,” he said.

“Then git permission, then!” shouted Demoman. “Yer a big boy, ain’t ye?”

Tapping his shovel against the tabletop, Soldier turned his eyes away from Demoman and grumbled to himself under his breath.

“I said I would handle zis, Demoman,” said Spy. “Unless, of course, you don’t have enough faith in my abilities to find him.”

“Ye haven’t found ‘im yet though, have ye?”

“He’s done a very good job of hiding,” said Spy with a shrug. “Besides, I have had ozzer priorities. I am a busy man, after all.”

“Demo, we’re all worried about ‘im,” Engineer said, attempting to talk the angry Scot down. “An’ believe you me, if I could drop everythin’ an’ go with you t’ find him, I would. I want to. But I got my daughter to worry about here…”

“Bring ‘er along then!” said Demoman. Rosie, who was still inside and peering out, ducked her head out of view, shaking her head as she did so.

“I’m already askin’ a lot a’ her jus’ to put up with havin’ Soldier livin’ here,” said Engineer. “This is all a bit much fer all a’ us.”

Demoman looked crestfallen. He looked over everybody else at the table in disbelief, closed his eye and shook his head. “Wot’s happened tae us?” he asked. “This innit’ th’ group a’ hellbent, iron-willed bastards I knew! I thought we were a family!”

“Siddown, Demo,” said Sniper, reaching up to grab Demoman’s shoulder. “Yer drunk again already.”

“Git yer hands offa me!” said Demoman. “Yer jes’ as bad as e’erybody else!”

“You know I’d go with ya mate, but Moonchild…” Sniper paused, and his voice came out softer. “I don’t wanna make her more upset than she already is with me.”

“See wot I mean? Ye’ve been pussified!” Demoman spat. “Yer rollin’ onto yer stomach fer a woman who dinnae even appreciate wot ye’ve done for her! She’s got ye on a leash! Yer like a neutered dog!”

“That’s not true!” Sniper retorted.

“Oh, aye, a’ course it’s not!” Demoman said, voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. “When wos th’ last time ye shot somethin’, then? Can ye answer me that?”

“Aw, c’mon, fellas, can’t we jus’ drop this?” Engineer pleaded. “Spy’s gonna find him, jes’ you wait!”

“We’ll see,” said Spy. “I cannot make any promises.”

Demoman scowled at the Spy, looking as though he were seriously considering walloping the smarmy Frenchman. Sniper again put his hand on Demoman’s shoulder, and this time Demoman obliged, sinking back down into his chair.

“You know people in Harlem, mate,” said Sniper. “We can get th’ word out, ask people t’ watch out fer ‘im.”

“They wouldn’t know ‘im if they saw ‘im,” said Demoman. “I mean, wot am I s’posed tae ask ‘em tae do? Set up a lil’ box wi’ a stick an’ a string an’ an autographed photo a’ Leonard Nimoy underneath?”

Sniper cocked his head to the side, looking up pensively. “Actually…”

“Ye know what? Fergit it, then,” Demoman said, crossing his arms. “But I’m tellin’ ye, Spy, if ye donnae find ‘im, I’ll rip yer bloody head off an’ use it as a bloody paperweight!”

Spy raised an eyebrow, but otherwise acted largely indifferent to the threat. “You too, seem to be losing your touch for zhreats.”

“Wot d’ye expect? I ain’t done me job proper since the contract ended,” he said. “None a’ us have ‘cept Spy.”

“Actually, I wasn’t really doing my job properly when I was under that contract,” said Spy.

“That ain’t th’ point,” said Demoman. He took a swig from his bottle. “I… I jes’ miss it, ye know? I miss when we were livin’ together, doin’ our jobs, our real jobs… I felt like I belonged there, ye know? I mean, aye, I got plenty a friends, but… they’re not like th’ lot o’ you. Yer all diff’rent… not like ev’rybodeh else.”

“Christ, not this again,” Sniper muttered.

“Ah, shut it!” said Demoman. “Ye miss it. Ye know ye do. You jus’ as much as anybody else here!”

Sniper rubbed the back of his neck and hung his head, giving out a noncommittal grunt. Soldier sniffled a bit, rubbed his nose, and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“I don’t particularly miss it,” said Medic. “Having to play nanny to ze lot of you, tending to your vounds, making sure zat you did not permanently injure or cripple yourselves…”

“Aye, but ye wouldn’t a’ met Heavy if it weren’t fer that,” Demoman pointed out. “You an’ Ilse are happier noo, anyway.”

“I vould appreciate it if you vould not bring zat up again, bitte,” Medic said. “Und just because I met Heavy zere, does not mean zat I vish to return to zat. Your nostalgia is distorting your perception almost as much as your inebriation.”

“I’ll inebriate me foot up yer arse if ye make a smart remark like that again, ye prancin’ dandy!”

Medic just rolled his eyes and ignored the remark. “Anyvay, Heavy und I ah much happier now zat ve no longer ah vorking for RED. Isn’t zat right, mein Kuschelbär?”

Heavy hesitated before he answered, looking pensive. “Vell… I do miss it, sometimes.”

The doctor looked at him, splaying his hand over his chest as though he had been wounded. “Vhat? Vhy?”

“I miss Sasha,” Heavy said wistfully.

“Ve still have Sasha!”

“Ve have parts of Sasha,” said Heavy. “She does not vork anymore.”

“Breaks yer heart, donnit’?” Demoman asked.

“Da,” said Heavy. “It pains me to see her like that.”

Medic leaned an elbow on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ve kept as much of her as ve could, Heavy. Ve cannot afford to rebuild her.”

“I know that,” said Heavy.

“But that’s wot I’m sayin’,” said Demoman. “We all miss it, don’ we? We were happy there! But we’ve all been tied doon by our families or new jobs or…” he looked at Soldier, and rotated his hand on his wrist, “… bein’ ill… an’ I’m no’ askin’ for ye tae leave all that behind. I’m jes’ sayin’, that we could go back tae that, jes’ fer a little bit, an’ find Pyro, as a team. As a family, even. Come on, lads. Wot d’ye say?”

The men at the table all exchanged uneasy glances. Sniper huddled over the table, looking ashamed of even being put in this position, Scout crossed his arms and tried not to make eye contact, Engineer just looked at doleful. Spy examined his cuticles with complete disinterest. Soldier just wrung his hands around Shovel Jr.’s handle and looked tense. Heavy especially seemed to be uncomfortable, as he looked as though he were about to say something, anything at all, but would look back at Medic. As the silence became unbearable, Sniper clapped his hand on Demoman’s shoulder.

“I’ll go with ya, mate,” he said.

“Really?” Demoman asked. “I thought…”

“Yeah, well, I’m not allowed back at th’ house fer a while, anyway,” Sniper said. “Fuck it. I ain’t got anythin’ better t’ do.”

Demoman smiled. “Well, that makes one a’ ye. Anyone else gonna man up an’ join me?”

Soldier twitched a bit, and reached a shaking hand into his pocket, pulling out his pill bottle again, unscrewing the cap and popping another pill down his throat.

“Yer not exactly bein’ fair,” said Engineer. “I’m offerin’ my hospitality, here.”

“He’s jes’ frustrated,” Sniper said.

“Don’ you go makin’ excuses fer me!” Demoman snapped. “Soon as we leave here, we’re goin’.”

“I’m zinking zat you should lie down for a bit,” said Spy. “Sleep zis off. I already said I had zis covered.”

Demoman sneered at him. “I donnae bloody trust ye. I’ll find ‘im, jes’ you wait! Show ye how tae do yer own bloody job.”

“Settle down,” said Sniper. We’ll make some calls. See if we can’t start somethin’.”

“Oh, I’ll make some ruddy calls!” said Demoman, getting up from the table. “Engie, I’m usin’ yer phone. I’ll foot yer bill.”

“Now wait jus’ a second-” Engineer protested, but was cut off by Sniper.

“Let ‘im go, Truckie. I’ll make sure he’s good for it.”

Engineer watched Demoman stomp into his house warily, and turned back to Sniper. “Yer really jus’ gonna set out t’ New York?”

“Eh, we’ll see how he feels tomorrow when ‘e’s sober,” said Sniper. “Actually… I did wanna go back to home… try an’ talk with me girlfriend a bit. Then, I dunno. We’ll see how that goes.”

“I’m jus’ sorry I can’t go with ya,” said Engineer. “But it’s like Medic said… we can’t jus’ drop everything t’ go find ‘im, as much as it pains me t’ say it.”

“I understand,” said Sniper. “Jes’… you know how he gets.”

“God, do we ever,” Spy muttered.

“Yeah, well, I don’t appreciate him sayin’ that I’m a wuss just ‘cause I’m not gonna leave my wife an’ kid,” said Scout. “That makes me a man, you know? Takin’ care a’ my own. That don’t make me a wuss.”

“‘Course it don’t,” said Engineer. “An’ I’m proud a’ you, boy.”

“Trust me, ma’s proud enough a’ me for everybody,” said Scout. “‘Specially, since… you know, I’m doin’ better off than most a’ my brothers.”

“Is Edward still in jail, zen?” Spy asked.

“Hey, listen, don’chu go askin’ about my brothers, all right?” Scout warned. “And yeah, Eddie’s still in jail. He didn’t kill nobody though.”

“Oh, I know,” said Spy. “Your muzzer told me about zat, too. Armed robbery and aggravated assault, if I remember correctly.”

“Look, I didn’t say it was okay for you ta be flappin’ yer gums about this!”

“How rude of me,” said Spy. “I do apologize.”

“Like you fuckin’ mean it,” Scout scoffed.

“Oh come now, is zat any way to talk to ze man who is helping your muzzer out of her debt?”

“I’m doin’ that fine on my own, ya creep,” said Scout. “I’d appreciate it if ya butt out.”

“If you consider owning a used car dealership ‘doing fine,’” said Spy. “You could be doing so much better for yourself, Scout. You should have gone to college, as ze Laborer kept telling you to.”

“I didn’t need it,” said Scout. “Look, not everybody needs college, okay? Plenty a’ people have made somethin’ of themselves without it.”

“It would a’ opened up a lot more doors for ya,” said Engineer.

“I open my own doors,” said Scout. “‘Sides, Sniper dropped outta college, an’ he’s doin’ fine, right?”

Sniper’s head whipped around from staring towards the house upon hearing his name mentioned.

“Whuzzat?”

“I said, you dropped outta college, an’ you did all right fer yerself, right?”

“Yeah… I guess,” said Sniper.

“See?” said Scout, turning back to Engineer. “‘Sides, you an’ Medic were probably the only guys ta go ta college, right?”

Spy cleared his throat very loudly.

“Wait, you too?”

“I never graduated,” said Spy. “Due to some razzer unforeseeable circumstances.”

“Well, you’re like Sniper, then,” said Scout.

“Oh, please,” said Spy. “Do me a favor and don’t compare me to him.”

“Demoman was right.”

All eyes at the table turned to Soldier, who had spoken up. His thumb was running back and forth along the edge of Shovel Jr.’s blade, and occasionally he would move his thumb down to flick his nail against the plastic edge. “We are weaklings. We are shadows of what we once were. We can’t even work together to help our brother. Instead we’re sitting around a table, talking about what we should have done with our lives.”

“Aw, c’mon, Sir, don’t let what Demo said get to ya,” said Engineer. “He’s jus’ drunk, is all…”

“You don’t understand,” said Soldier. “You only joined us because you needed the money. We… we needed it, Engie. We needed it because we needed to fight!”

“Are you speaking for all of us or just yourself?” asked Spy. “Because it would seem to me zat it is more ze latter zan ze former.”

“Shut up,” Soldier growled, his voice coming out low and raspy, staring at Spy with wide, wild eyes.

Spy seemed genuinely disturbed by the tone, for a brief moment, before straightening his tie and resuming his usual aloof demeanor. Soldier ignored him, and turned his attention back to Shovel Jr.

“We’ve been stripped of our weapons, our glory, our daily shower of blood and fire and sulfur and gunpowder! We’re not warriors anymore… look at us. We’re a used car salesman with a knocked-up tart of a wife; an unemployed, washed-up hippie with a bra-burning girlfriend and a bastard son; a special-effects man who works for b-grade schlock whose girlfriend is an adulterer; a pushover widower with a whining daughter; a former-Nazi-mad-scientist-turned-children’s-doctor and his killing-machine-turned-kept-butt-buddy, a glorified errand boy for RED, a homeless bum, and me… and I’ve been medicated into compliance. I’ve… I’ve been muzzled, I’ve been… I’ve been castrated…”

“Don’t say that about yerself, Sir,” Engineer said.

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say it,” said Soldier.

“I’d prefer zat you refrain calling me a Nazi, Herr,” said Medic, trying to match the same menace that Soldier had exhibited earlier. “It’s extremely rude.”

“Oh, shut up!” Soldier shouted. “We all know you were a Nazi! Nobody says anything because they don’t want to assume, because we worked with you, because you were tolerated! And even if you weren’t a Nazi, you were probably working for them, weren’t you? Is that why you’re giving shots to sick babies now? To try and somehow make up for it?”

Medic’s face went scarlet, and his body started to quake, like a volcano just seconds away from eruption. Heavy put his hands on the doctor’s shoulders to try and calm him down, and glared at Soldier. “I tink you should stop talking,” said Heavy. “Maybe talk again vhen medicine starts working.”

“Like I’m scared of you!” Soldier shouted. “Look at you! Playing housewife to a man half your size and whining over the fact that you can’t have a child! Well, of course you can’t! Two men can’t make a baby and there is nobody on earth who would let a pair of queers adopt one! You know it, your precious ‘Doktor’ knows it, and everybody at this goddamned table knows it!”

Heavy narrowed his eyes and his jaw set. “If everybody vas not here, I vould kill for that.”

Soldier barked out a laugh. “Ha! Spare me! You’re nothin’ but a big, burly teddy bear for Medic! When was the last time you even got in a fight, huh? When was the last time you made somebody bleed? Face it, commie, you don’t have it in you anymore!”

“Jesus, Solly, maybe you should take another one a’ yer chill-pills,” said Scout. “Ya don’t gotta insult everybody twice!”

“Can it, pipsqueak,” said Soldier. “I saw you with your bleached blond bimbo! She’s got you on a leash, doesn’t she? Had to ask her permission before you could take a drink. I would have thought you’d be the last person to subject yourself to that treatment! Jesus, you’re trying to convince us you’ve grown up, but you’re 30 goddamn years old and you’re still treating Froggy over there like your wicked stepfather!”

Spy couldn’t help but let out a low, satisfied chuckle, as Scout violently stood up from his chair, toppling it over behind him.

“Call Bunny a bimbo again!” he threatened. “I dare ya! You wanna go, Sarge, because I’m tellin’ ya, I’ll fuckin’ go!”

“Scout, siddown!” Engineer ordered. “You ain’t helpin’ nobody!”

Laughing harder, Spy doubled over, and Soldier turned his judgmental eye towards him.

“Think this real funny, huh, François? Like you’re much better. Think corporate sabotage makes for a glamorous lifestyle?”

“It pays ze bills,” said Spy, regaining his composure. “Really, if you’re going to try to get a rise out me, you’re going to have to try harder zen zat.”

“You’re right,” said Soldier. “I’ll bet you’re a human petri dish for every STD known to man. And you have the gall to keep coming back to Scout’s mother, sticking your diseased member into that poor woman like a plague rat.”

“SOLDIER!” Engineer cried, shocked.

Spy grimaced, looking at though he had been stabbed. He recoiled, but took a deep breath through his nostrils and out through his mouth. “How vulgar of you. Of course, zat’s come to be expected of you.”

“Dude, stop putting your nasty old… stop screwin’ my ma!” Scout cried out.

“Jesus, Christ, Solly, I thought those meds were s’posed t’ make ya all mellow an’ whatnot,” said Sniper.

“Like your marijuana?” Soldier asked. “I thought you were a professional. Thought you had some goddamned self-respect. You’re nothing but a lazy, spineless, gutless, brow-beaten, drugged-up loser!”

“You already covered me once, I don’t think ya need t’ chew me out again,” said Sniper.

“Oh, but you need it,” said Soldier. “Just imagine how your kid ‘s gonna grow up, with a deadbeat father, a crazy mother and… where the hell are you living, anyway? Five bucks says that it’s not even a proper house!”

Sniper murmured to himself, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s not, is it? What are you, living out of your van or something?”

“I’m, uh…” Sniper looked like a naughty schoolboy, confessing his crimes before the principal. “It’s… it’s a yurt, actually.”

“What in God’s name is a yurt?” Soldier asked, face wrinkling up in disgust.

“Well, it’s kinda like a cross between a tent an’ a house…”

“Good lord, you’re worse off than I thought,” Solder said, covering his face with his palm.

“Soldier, please,” said Engineer. “Enough is enough…”

“Wot’s all this, then?”

Soldier turned around to see Demoman standing in the doorway. “How long you been there?”

“Long enough tae hear ye beratin’ everybody fer their shortcomin’s… so, I guess yer feelin’ back tae yer ole’ self again.” Demoman leaned against the doorframe. “Ye wanna go an’ gripe about me, too? I already did it fer ye.”

“You didn’t complain about your little old lady,” said Soldier. “The one who used to be married to Medic, and cheated on him with you?”

“She’s happier ‘en she’s e’er been,” Demoman said.

“You travel a lot, don’cha?” said Soldier. “Little woman’s left at home, all by her lonesome.”

Demoman’s lone eye narrowed. “In case ye hadn’t noticed, she was lookin’ fer a man that weren’t actually intae men instead.”

“No, she was looking to fuck somebody,” said Soldier. “And you can’t do that when you’re away for so long on all those film shoots, now can you?”

The Scotsman’s face fell, and then contorted into a mask of rage. “I think ye’d best shut yer mouth before I shut it for ye.”

“That is quite enough outta you!” Engineer said. “Are you done insultin’ every one a’ mah guests yet, or do you still have more venom t’ spew?”

Soldier eyed Engineer, eyeballing him the way somebody might look over an angry rattlesnake. “Well, what am I supposed to say about you? You were the one that seemed like he didn’t belong. Former college professor with 11 PhDs, working with us for blood money. Never did tell us why you lost your job.”

“I’d rather not get into it,” Engineer said sternly. “Where are you goin’ with this? Why are doin’ this t’ us?”

“Because,” said Soldier, as though that were justification enough. “You’ve become soft all over again, Engie. You can’t even discipline your own daughter and in the eight years since the contract expired you’ve done nothing.”

“Been focusin’ on raisin’ Rosie,” said Engineer, his ears tingeing red. “That qualifies as somethin’. I’ve jus’ been wanted t’ make sure I could make her as happy as I could after her mother passed.”

“If you had really wanted to make her happy, you would have found yourself a new wife and given her a goddamned mother figure, instead of spending the past seven years pitying yourself because you spent two goddamned years with us, just so you could pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a cure for brain cancer that didn’t even work! You’ve got nothing to show for it!” He leaned in close to Engineer, who was gaping at him, and his voice dropped so that it was just barely audible. “She’s dead. Why don’t you just stop blubbering and get over it?”

What happened next occurred so quickly, the other men witnessing it could barely register it until it was over. Engineer stood up with violent ferocity; his fist lashed out, colliding with Soldier’s jaw with an audible crack, and Soldier toppled over. Guard Dog, who had been under the table during the entire exchange, started barking madly, and Demoman and Sniper both grabbed Soldier by the arms before he could retaliate. As Heavy got up from his chair, Engineer lunged towards Soldier, grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and pulled the other man close, so that they were face to face. Engineer was heaving jagged breaths, trembling as he spoke.

“I invite you… to come to my house…” he said, “I offer you my hospitality, I offer to help you get away from your brother who is obviously hurting you, and you have th’ gall, th’ very nerve, t’ say these things not just t’ me, but to everybody…” he could not even finish, as his hands were shaking too hard to keep a good grip on Soldier’s shirt.

Heavy was right behind him, and put his massive hands upon Engineer’s shoulders. “Is all right,” said Heavy. “Soldier is sick. Does not realize vhat he says.”

Engineer cupped his face with both of his hands, and found himself turning to Heavy’s chest, and burying himself in it, his shoulders hitching with every breath that got caught in his throat. Heavy hugged the smaller man, and rubbed his back gently, like a mother comforting a hurt child. After a few moments of this, Engineer pushed himself away from the Russian, shaking his head.

“I… I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry y’all had t’ see that… I don’t know what came over me.”

Soldier turned his head and spat a thick wad of phlegm and blood onto the porch, where it landed in with a wet splat. “‘Bout goddamned time,” said Soldier. “I didn’t think any of you were going to lay one on me.” He shook Demoman and Sniper both off of his arms, grinned. “I needed that.”

Turning his head slowly from his own hands, Engineer’s jaw went slack as he stared in Soldier in disbelief. Soldier’s grin faltered under Engineer’s gaze, his cocky attitude withering.

“What?” Soldier asked. “What?”

Engineer just shook his head, and without his eyes ever leaving those of Soldier’s, made his way to the door, and went inside, turning away only once he had shut the door. For a moment, the other guests just stood, absorbing the shock of it all, before they all slowly migrated inside; all of them, with the sole exception of Soldier. He watched everyone go inside, including the dog, his feet rooted to his spot. Scout was the last one in, giving Soldier a dirty look before slamming the screen door. He was alone now, and he took his seat back at the table. He lifted Shovel Jr. from the tabletop, and held the toy shovel in a loose fist.

“You were right,” he said. “It wasn’t worth it.”

He rubbed his aching jaw. The pain would only last so long, and then it would be gone. He hadn’t had any good pain, any real pain, in so long, nor was he able to inflict it. The look on Engineer’s face, right before the man turned and socked Soldier in the jaw, was one more hurt than Soldier had ever seen from him. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to belittle his team as such… it felt good to let it out when it was happening, but now he sat outside, alone, a pariah among the few friends he had left. What was he even trying to do? Soldier preferred not to delve into such introspection. He ultimately decided he just wanted to start a fight, just because he missed fighting and yelling and doing what he had normally done while they all worked together for RED. Yes… that made sense.

“So,” he asked Shovel Jr., “what do we do now?”

The pink plastic spade in his hand had no answer, and neither did Soldier.

“He still sittin’ out there?”

Sniper pulled back the curtain and peered outside. Soldier was still sitting at the table outside, and had not moved from his spot for the past 20 minutes.

“Yeah,” he said, turning back to Scout.

“What’s he doin’?” Scout asked.

“Jes’ sittin’ there,” said Sniper, letting go of the curtain. “Same as ‘e has been.”

“You should not have invited him,” Medic said to Engineer. They were sitting around the kitchen table, and Engineer was staring at the table’s surface with a bottle of beer in his hand. “I had a feeling somezing like zis vould happen if he showed up.”

“How vas Engineer supposed to know?” asked Heavy, who was down on the floor rubbing Guard Dog’s stomach. “Soldier vas taking medicine. Supposed to be better.”

“No amount of medicine could fix zat,” scoffed Medic. “He’s a lost cause, Engineer. He’s bettah off living on his own, under his bruzzah’s supervision.”

“I can’t send him back to that,” said Engineer. “His brother’s hurtin’ him.”

“I’d hurt him too, if he tried to kill me,” said Medic.

“No… that ain’t it,” said Engineer, not even bothering to look up. “His brother ain’t hurtin’ him because Solly tried t’ kill him. I think Solly tried t’ kill him because his brother was hurtin’ him.”

Rosie hovered around the kitchen entrance, hugging her arms. She hadn’t said anything since everyone else came inside. She had overheard some of what Soldier had said to the others. She gave a few sideways glances to her own father, her malaise about what her father had done in those two years he had been away returning stronger than ever. She listened to the men talk, completely silent and largely unnoticed.

“That dinnae excuse wot ‘e said tae ye,” said Demoman. “Wot ‘e said tae all a’ us. Out a’ all me weak spots, ‘e goes an’ attacks Ilse.”

“Because ya beat up on yerself enough that nothin’ else would a’ stuck,” said Sniper, walking over to the table. “You know ‘e wos jes’ sayin’ all that jes’ t’ get t’ us. He wanted a reaction an’ he bloody got one.”

“I knoo that,” said Demoman. “It’s… it’s jes’ low. Ilse wouldn’t… she wouldn’t do that.” He looked over to Medic, who was making no effort to get involved in such a discussion. “… Would she?”

“You’re asking me?” Medic asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, ye were married tae ‘er!” said Demoman. “She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t go an’ stab me in th’ back like that. I love ‘er. You… you dinnit’ care about ‘er either way!”

“Of course I cared about her,” said Medic. “If I hadn’t, I vould not have married her in ze first place.” Medic pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Ve had our reasons for marrying.”

“Is tha’ so?” Demoman asked. “That ain’t th’ way she tells it.”

“Zat does not surprise me,” said Medic. “She has a tendency to bend ze truth in her favor.”

“Och! Why’d I even bother tae ask you anyway?” Demoman turned away from Medic in dismissal. “Yer bloody biased.”

Medic merely scoffed at the Scotsman, and refused to continue the conversation further.

“So now what, Laborer?” Spy asked. “What do we do now zat ze Soldier has single-handedly crashed your little party?”

“I dunno,” Engineer said, shrugging. “I s’pose I’m gonna hafta talk with him.”

“You’re serious,” Spy said flatly. It was not a question.

“Well, heck, what else am I s’posed t’ do?” Engineer asked.

“Tell him to leave,” said Spy, “which is becoming more and more appealing of an idea right about now.”

Engineer finally picked up his head and looked at Spy. “Leave? But-”

“But what?” asked Spy. “I’ve had enough petty drama for one day. I’ve sat around listening to you all bicker for far too long. Soldier might think that you’ve all changed, but I for one, see that none of you have changed a bit.”

“Neither have you, Spah,” said Engineer.

Spy snorted in contempt. “How predictable of you.”

“Listen, if yer just gonna stick around an’ make fun, then maybe you should jes’ leave already,” snapped Engineer. “I already got harangued plenty by Soldier. I don’t need any more a’ that from you.”

“One minute you’re acting upset zat I wish to take my leave, ze next you tell me to get out,” Spy said. “Which is it, Laborer?”

“I don’t care what you do,” said Engineer. “If yer gonna stay, I’d prefer you not make th’ situation any worse than it is.”

“I cannot leave,” said Spy. “I was told to come here and stay until everyone else had left.”

Crossing his arms, Engineer looked up at Spy and glared at him. “Is that really th’ only reason why yer here? T’ spah on us?”

“Zat’s ze main reason, yes.” He straightened his tie.

“Figures,” said Engineer.

Sniper took another peek out of the window, only to see Soldier had not moved. He turned back to Engineer. “Oi, Truckie. You sure you really wanna talk to him? I mean… you know how stubborn ‘e is.”

“What other choice do I have?” Engineer replied with a shrug. “I can’t jes’ leave him out there.” With that, he walked out of the kitchen, as all the others watched him go. Rosie, too, watched her father walk past the living room, where she stood by the mantle, holding the old photograph of her father and his teammates from so many years ago.

He stepped outside, opening the screen door and looking over at Soldier. The sun was dipping lower, hovering ever closer to the horizon, but not low enough to start tingeing the sky pink. The moon, however, was plainly visible in the blue sky on the opposite end, missing a sliver of itself on its outer rim. Soldier did not acknowledge Engineer’s presence; in fact, he seemed to be making an effort to ignore him.

“Hey,” said Engineer.

Soldier turned his head slightly, but not enough so that he was looking at the shorter man. He merely snorted in response.

“Can we talk?” asked Engineer. “Because I think we need t’ have another heart t’ heart.”

Without so much as a grunt, Soldier turned his head away from Engineer. Undeterred, Engineer pulled out the chair beside Soldier, and sat down. He placed his forearms on the table and laced his fingers, looking at the other man and staring. Soldier simply stared down at the table, his resolve unwavering.

“I can sit here all evening, if I have to,” said Engineer. “An somethin’ tells me that you don’t want that any more ‘n I do.”

“You come out here to lecture me?” Soldier asked.

“I came out here t’ find out what th’ hell you were thinkin’,” said Engineer. “Why would you say such things?”

“Just making some observations,” Soldier said, completely nonchalant.

“Those weren’t observations, those were insults!” said Engineer. “You got a lot a’ nerve, an’ I think you owe me an’ everybody in there an apology.”

“An apology?” said Soldier, finally turning to look Engineer in the eye. “For what? For trying to whip you maggots into shape?”

“Is that what you call it?” asked Engineer. “Seems t’ me like you were jus’ bein’ hostile an’ confrontational.”

“Somebody needed to say what was wrong with the lot of you,” said Soldier. “Nobody else had the guts.”

“Sir, you… what you said about Irene…” he was having trouble trying to repeat the accusation Soldier had laid upon him. “You… you jus’ can’t say that to a person! That was a horrible thing t’ say! I… I tried everythin’ to save her and I couldn’t an’…” He could finish the thought, putting his head in his hands.

“I was right, then,” said Soldier. “You couldn’t save her and you’re beating yourself up over it.”

Engineer found himself far too angry and distressed to respond. He covered his face in his palms and tried to think of anything that wasn’t strangling Soldier.

Soldier, however, either didn’t notice the other man’s plight, or he simply didn’t care. “I was right about everybody,” said Soldier. “That’s why you’re mad. You’re still dwelling over something you couldn’t stop and I’m the only one who had the guts to say so.”

“You dared suggest that I ‘get over her,’” Engineer said, finding his voice again. “That… how could you suggest something like that? You act like you ain’t ever lost someone precious to you!”

“That’s not true,” said Soldier, wincing a bit. “I have.”

“Shovel don’t count.”

“I know that!” Soldier suddenly became aware that he was clutching Shovel Jr. close to him. He set the plastic spade down on the table in front of him. “And I have. But unlike you, I got over it. That’s what a real man does. He doesn’t sit around and cry and pity himself, he picks himself back up and he marches forward!”

“Yer implyin’ that I didn’t do that,” said Engineer. “I’ve jus’ been fallin’ back down more often, is all. She… she was my rock, sir. I found strength in her.”

“Then maybe it’s time for you to get a new rock, then.”

“I have one,” said Engineer. “My daughter.”

“I’m talking about a new wife,” said Soldier.

“I had a feelin’,” said Engineer. “T’ be honest… I don’t know. I’ve… I’ve thought about datin’ again, but I’m too old an’ I don’t think any woman would want me…”

“Well, nobody’s going to want you with that attitude. You’re not even that old,” said Soldier. “I’ll bet you haven’t even tried.”

“I-I did try!” Engineer protested. “I did! I just… it didn’t feel right. An’ I… I didn’t wanna make Rosie feel like I was tryin’ t’ replace her mother, you know?”

“I figured as much,” said Soldier. “Jesus, listen to yourself. You’re getting all mopey and sappy on me, crying, ‘Oh, I can’t replace her, oh, nobody wants me, oh…’” Soldier turned his head and spat. “To think I thought of you as a comrade in arms.”

“Now wait jus’ a-” Engineer looked wounded at first, but then shook his head angrily, and started wagging his finger at Soldier. “Look here! I don’t know where yer goin’ with this, but that ain’t why I came out here t’ talk t’ you, an’ we are not discussin’ the subject any further!”

“Is that because I have a point?”

“No, it’s because yer outta line!” Engineer’s face and ears were now bright red. “My love life ain’t any a’ yer business, any more ‘n yours is mine!”

“I don’t have one anyway,” said Soldier.

“Well, I certainly can’t imagine why,” said Engineer, crossing his arms.

Soldier just grunted and crossed his own arms in response.

“Point is, what you said hurt. This ain’t about you bein’ right; it’s about you bein’ a jerk. How would you like it if I started pointin’ out exactly what it is I don’t like about you?”

“I already know what’s wrong with me!” Soldier hollered.

“So you know that yer a loud, obnoxious, hateful man who doesn’t even care about anybody else’s feelings? You know that sometimes I don’t even think yer capable of basic empathy, like you can’t even comprehend how anybody feels? It’s like, in your mind, you’re right, everybody who sees different is wrong, an’ therefore not worthy of any kinda respect!”

Turning his head away, Soldier’s fingers started to curl over his bicep, as though trying to grab a sleeve that wasn’t there. “That’s not true.”

“Th’ hell it ain’t!” said Engineer. “How do you expect me to keep you here, in my house, if you abuse me like this? Because I’m not gonna let you stay here unless yer willin’ t’ change.”

“You won’t let me stay?” Suddenly, Soldier’s voice dipped, coming out sounding as close to meek as a man like Soldier could manage.

“Not unless you show me that you’re tryin’ t’ get better,” said Engineer, getting up from the table. “Otherwise, you might as well just go on home.”

Soldier seemed to be fumbling over how to react. His body language suggested he wanted to stand up and follow, but was forcibly willing himself to stay put. As he watched Engineer move towards the old screen door, Soldier shouted out.

“No, wait!”

Engineer turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“What if… what if I said I was…” Soldier was stumbling over his words now. He looked to Engineer with pleading eyes, as though silently asking him to finish his thought for him. Engineer did no such thing, simply staring back at Soldier expectantly. “What if I said I was sorry?”

“I dunno,” said Engineer. “Are you?”

“I… well…” Soldier bowed his head, “I don’t want you to hate me, Engie. You said you were my friend, and maybe… I was too harsh. And not very grateful to you.”

“Is that so?” Engineer leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed.

“… Yes,” Soldier said. “I was. I’m just…” He stopped, trying to search for a word.

“Just what?”

“Hang on, I’m thinking,” Soldier snapped. “I’m not good at this.”

“Not good at apologizing?”

“Not good at… explaining myself,” said Soldier. “I hated doing it with the doctors and I hate doing it now.”

“Well,” said Engineer, “if yer fixin’ t’ stay here, that’s somethin’ yer gonna hafta get used to. Yer not gonna be allowed t’ jus’ do an’ say whatever you feel like, jus’ ‘cause you think yer right. You gotta be considerate of how other people feel.”

“Don’t talk down to me like that,” Soldier growled. “I’m trying to apologize.”

“Go ahead, then.” Engineer nodded his head in a gesture for Soldier to continue.

“Right,” Soldier straightened up his posture, and took a deep breath through flared nostrils. “I’m sorry.”

“That it?” Engineer cocked an eyebrow.

“Christ, Engie, what the hell more do you want from me?” Soldier threw up his hands. “You want me to kiss your ass while I’m at it?”

“Nothin’ like that,” said Engineer, scratching his chin. “But an explanation fer what you were tryin’ t’ do would be nice.”

Soldier chewed his lip. “I… I’m… I am disappointed in what has happened to all of you. I feel like you are not the men you once were, when we were a team. I was proud of us back then and… I don’t feel proud of us now. I feel ashamed. And… it makes me angry, Engie. I hate seeing you like this and I couldn’t keep quiet and just let this happen to you anymore! I had to say something and of course that makes me the bad guy.” He crossed his arms and sighed. “I wanted everyone to be as angry as I am; angry at themselves, so that they’ll go back to how they used to be. I want to whip you into shape so that you can make me proud of you again.”

Engineer’s expression softened. “Well… that does explain things a bit, but… ya can’t talk t’ people like that. It’s hurtful. Friends don’t say those kinds a’ things to each other, even if they are mad. What you said was downright cruel. I felt like you were tryin’ t’ get everybody t’ hate you.”

“Yeah, well… maybe I was,” Soldier said. His voice dropped lower, as he bowed his head in shame. “Maybe I hate me too.”

“I don’t hate you,” said Engineer.

“I know you don’t,” said Soldier. “But maybe you should. I said I was disappointed in the team but…” he pulled his chair out from under the table, turned it around, and fell down into it. “I’m disappointed in myself the most, Engie. I hate it.”

“That’s why I offered you t’ stay. So I can help you get better.”

“Well, what if it doesn’t work?” Soldier leaned forward. “They’ll still probably make me take all that medicine, and I won’t be able to fight anymore. You know when you punched me, it was the first time anybody’s punched me since… since a long time ago? And coming from you… it felt good to get hit.”

“That ain’t a healthy attitude t’ have, Sir,” said Engineer. “Seems t’ me like a cry fer help.”

The older man grunted, and reached for his plastic shovel. “You’re sounding like my doctors.”

“Well, they are tryin’ t’ help ya. They ain’t antagonizin’ you fer no reason.” He put a hand on Soldier’s shoulder. “But you gotta let ‘em help ya.”

“Yeah…” Soldier looked over the shovel in his hand. “I am sorry, Engie. For what I said to you. You know… about your wife. Seems like you really loved her.”

Engineer nodded solemnly. “She was… she was my everything.”

“Huh,” Soldier shook his head. “I’ve never had a person like that… Shovel doesn’t count.”

“Thought you said you had.”

“Well… I’ve never had a woman like that before,” he said. “I mean, I’ve had women, sometimes, but I never… had a woman before. They don’t like me very much.” He looked up at engineer and noticed his puzzled expression. “Never had a man before either, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t thinkin’ that at all,” said Engineer.

“For your information, this person was not actually a person. It was a dog.” He caught himself.

“A dog?” Engineer chuckled.

“Yes. And it was a completely platonic relationship!” Soldier added on hastily.

“I wasn’t even gonna consider that,” said Engineer.

“Well, I thought… in light of any previous comments I may have made, that you might think…”

“Thought no such thing,” said Engineer, laughing again. “You’ve never been too much of a people person, have ya?”

“I’d like more people if they’d shut up and listen to me,” Soldier admitted.

“That wouldn’t be very interestin’ at all, though,” said Engineer.

Soldier mumbled something in begrudging agreement.

“Well,” said Engineer, putting his fists on his hips, “You ready t’ apologize to everyone else?”

“Everyone else?” Soldier sat up straight.

“Of course,” said Engineer. “I mean, you apologized t’ me an’ all, but everybody else in there needs one too. Are you gonna be able t’ do that?”

“I… uh…” Soldier twiddled his fingers, averting his gaze from Engineer. “What if they think I’m weak? That I’m going soft?”

Engineer offered Soldier a smile and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “If you want my opinion, I think it’d make you a stronger man fer admittin’ that you done wrong.”

“Yeah?” Soldier looked up at Engineer, whose face had become warm and friendly again.

“Yeah,” Engineer said with a nod.

Soldier stood up from the chair, sighing deeply. He could feel himself getting a head rush, though he was not sure if it was simply from standing up too quickly or the encroaching dread. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Good man,” said Engineer, patting Soldier on the back. “An’, uh, I wanted t’ say sorry fer hittin’ you earlier, I just-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” said Soldier. “If it were me, I would have done the same.”

“Right,” said Engineer. “Come on in.” He lead Soldier back inside, and while he tried to maintain his own cheery disposition with a smile and a spring in his step, Soldier moved with the solemnity of a man being lead to the gallows. They walked past the living room and into the kitchen where the six other men sat around the kitchen table, all looking up at Engineer and Soldier entered.

“Leaving, Soldier?” Spy asked.

“Don’t call me Soldier,” he said. “I have something to say to all of you.”

“You dinnit’ say enough before then?” Sniper asked.

“Let ‘im talk,” said Engineer. “Go ahead, Sir.”

“Right,” said Soldier. He looked at the men staring at him, waiting silently. He could feel their eyes boring into him, burning through his flesh right down to the bone. It suddenly felt twenty degrees hotter in the room, but at the same time he felt a chill over his skin. He had stared death in the eye so many times without blinking, but at that very moment, with the eyes of his former teammates on his, he suddenly knew terror.

Deep breaths, Soldier thought. Breathe slow, just let his mind clear and stare them down just as hard as they were to him. He then leaned over the table and slammed his hand down upon the surface, causing everyone in the room to jump.

“All right, listen up!” Soldier barked. “I came back here to apologize to you. I was wrong to say the things that I said, and I only said them because I am frustrated by you and because you all deserve better. I had thought that if I was honest you’d want to prove me wrong, and make something out of yourselves. And…” he hesitated, finding himself losing steam. Christ, this was hard to keep up. “… And I have been told that was wrong of me to do, and that I came off as… too harsh. I… I’m sorry.”

He looked to the faces of his former teammates, who seemed to be stunned. A part of Soldier’s brain was trying to goad him into some kind of fight or flight response; they were going to attack him for this. They weren’t going to accept it. Spy especially was giving him a look of incredulity, and Soldier was bracing himself for some kind of smart remark. Go ahead, Spy, he thought. I dare you. Just go ahead and open your big fat mouth.

“You are sorry?”

Soldier turned his head. It hadn’t been Spy who spoke, but Heavy. Heavy was looking at him in mild surprise, obviously unable to fully believe what he had just heard.

“That’s right,” said Soldier. “Do you have a problem with that, big man?”

“Is not problem,” said Heavy. “Just… is strange to hear.”

“You certainly have an interesting way of showing your concern for people,” said Spy with a smirk.

“Don’t get smart with me,” said Soldier. “I said I was sorry.”

“Und you expect us to just forgive you?” said Medic. “For all ze verbal abuse you gave Heavy und I, for vhat you said to us today? Ve ah just supposed to take your apology at face value und accept it?”

Soldier felt his stomach sink. No, this wasn’t working at all. He apologized, he was supposed to be forgiven, and yet that goddamned Nazi queer that he had fought alongside for two years was refusing him, slamming the proverbial door in his face and leaving him out in the cold like the goddamned traitor he was-

“Doktor, please,” said Heavy. “He said he vas sorry.”

“How is zat good enough?” Medic harped. “Just because he gives a showy apology, I’m just supposed to just say ‘oh, vell, I see your attacks on mein character vere just made because you cared so much about me’? Is zat vhat I am supposed to do?”

“Vhen has Soldier ever apologized for anyting?”

Medic opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. He shook his head, looking quite flustered. “Zat… zat isn’t ze point Heavy.”

“It is the point,” said Heavy. “Is first time he has ever said he vas wrong.”

“Yeah,” said Soldier. “I was wrong. What do you have to say about that, huh?”

“Ah you also apologizing for everyzing you said about Heavy und I?” Medic asked.

Soldier flinched. He screwed his eyes shut as he did, and opened one cautiously, only to see Medic looking at him, the German man’s expression completely stoic. Soldier closed his eyes again, breathing deep.

“Now look here,” he said. “You’re… you’re a good doctor. You were good with healing us. And… I don’t really like you very much, or what you do with Heavy, because it’s wrong and-” He felt something hit his shin, and he winced. He looked up at Engineer, who was frowning at him. “… But you did right by our team and that’s what matters.”

The doctor’s eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. “Is zat so?”

“Yeah, that’s so, and don’t make me say it again, you…” Soldier was only vaguely aware he had raised a fist, which was now hovering in the air as he grasped for some kind of acceptable retort. “… You… egghead!”

Medic leaned forward, the corners of his mouth curling up and his eyes narrowed as he supporting his face with the heels of his palms. “Vell, vell,” he said. “Zis is new.”

“Don’t gloat too much,” said Soldier. “I still don’t like you.”

“I’m a man of science, Soldier. I do not believe in miracles.” Medic leaned back in his chair, still smiling with a cat-like satisfaction. “But zis is quite ze turn around.”

“Well, if tha’ innit’ th’ last thing I wos expectin’ tae see ‘ere,” Demoman said with a chuckle. “Is this th’ medication talkin’, or did ye have a genuine change a’ heart?”

“Not the medication,” Soldier said.

“Wow,” Sniper said. “Th’ hell did ya say t’ ‘im, Truckie?”

“We jus’ had a frank exchange a’ ideas, is all,” said Engineer, sitting down. “Ain’t that right, Sir?”

“Yeah,” said Soldier. “We did.”

“So… you’re sorry about everything you said?” asked Scout.

“Yes,” said Soldier.

“Even what you said about my ma and Bunny?”

“Yes.”

“An’ me too?”

“Yes,” Soldier said through gritted teeth.

“Scout, leave him be,” said Engineer. “This is hard for him. We all gotta pitch in t’ help him out, an’ that means bein’ patient with him. Heck, we’re practically a family, after all we been through, an’ that includes him.” He looked back up at Soldier, who was the only one left standing. “Ain’t that right, Sir?”

Soldier didn’t react right away, looking at Engineer with wide eyes and expression of bemusement. He then looked back at everybody else in the room. Their collective gaze no longer filled him with fear, but with a sense of accomplishment. They accepted him now, even after everything he had said. There was a niggling fear in the back of his brain that they were not being sincere. But to hell with it, he thought. Engineer was genuine at least, and everybody liked Engineer. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “That’s right.”

“Why doncha’ sit down fer a bit an’ talk a while?” Engineer pulled out an empty chair beside him. “We can talk about th’ good ole’ days, if ya like.”

“I’d like that,” said Soldier, grinning. “I’d like that quite a bit.”

“Good,” said Engineer. “Make yerself comfortable an’ sit a spell.”

He sat down at the table, and found himself quickly wrapped up in a conversation about their most fond memories working for RED. There was the occasional interruption from Spy when the subject matter was too sensitive to be overheard, but for the most part the Frenchman had given up on trying to keep them quiet about their old jobs. As they laughed about their time at 2fort, Dustbowl, Gravel Pit, and several other outposts that they had trouble remembering the names of, Rosie sat in the living room, listening to them, and holding the photograph of her father and his friends. She studied the large, metal monstrosity that her father was leaning against in particular. She used to wonder what it was when she was younger, thinking that it was some sort of robot. When she was older, she recognized the turrets and the belts of bullets feeding into them, and she was told he was involved in “weapons testing.” As she listened to the other men talk, most of them drinking beer and laughing, she pictured her father hiding behind that monstrous looking mounted gun, laughing that same laugh she could hear coming from the kitchen, and she shuddered.

As the sun melted into the horizon over the ranch, Heavy looked out the window for a brief moment, before bringing a fresh beer to the table and placing it in front of his doctor.

“Ah, danke, Heavy,” said Medic, patting the larger man’s arm.

“Aw, hell, Doc, you coulda’ asked me, I woulda’ gotten it for you,” said Engineer. “I’m th’ host, after all.”

“I didn’t feel like troubling you,” said Medic, reaching for the bottle opener past several empty bottles of Blue Streak. “Besides, you vere telling us a story. I did not vant to interrupt.”

“Oh, right,” said Engineer. “Now, where was I?”

“Yer horses, man!” said Scout. “You were talkin’ about when you had horses!”

“Oh! Right,” said Engineer. “Th’ horses. We had three of ‘em, Buttercup, Silver an’ Magnolia. Now, we got two a’ those horses before Rosie was born, an’ those were Buttercup an’ Silver, an’ Magnolia we got specifically for Rosie when she was really little, but we dinnit’ git t’ keep her for very long. Silver was always a nice tempered horse. Loved people, wanted nothin’ more than t’ be brushed and petted, an’ he’d let jus’ about anybody ride him, an’ he was mostly my horse. But Buttercup, well, she was a prissy thing. She tolerated me all right, but she wouldn’t let anybody ride her but my wife. I found that out th’ hard way, nearly cracked open my skull when she bucked me off.”

“And you still kept her?” Soldier asked.

“Irene loved that horse,” Engineer said, and took a sip of beer. “An’ that horse loved her. She rode her inta town all the time, runnin’ errands an’ whatnot. She didn’t really like drivin’ too much, she’d avoid it when she could.”

“Why, was she bad at it?” Scout asked.

“Naw,” said Engineer. “She weren’t a bad driver, jus’… nervous. Very cautious. Her older brother had gotten into a bad car accident when he was a teenager, an’ he ended up losin’ th’ use of his legs. She didn’t drive fer years afterwards.”

“Crikey,” said Sniper. “I can’t say I blame her fer bein’ spooked.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That was actually why we got th’ horses t’ begin with. She didn’t wanna be stuck at home all day while I was workin’ but she hated drivin’… that, an’ we were livin’ on a house that used t’ be an’ ole’ ranch, we had all this space… I told her that I had an uncle who had a farm, an’ told her how I’d go horseback ridin’, an’ she lit up an’ asked if we could get some. I could never say no t’ her.”

“You did not grow up on a farm, zen?” Spy asked.

“What? Oh, naw, nothin’ like that,” said Engineer, shaking his head. “I wished I had. He wanted me t’ be an engineer just like he had, and my grandpa before him.”

“Sounds a lot like me own dad,” said Sniper. “Always wanted me t’ become a doctor.”

“Your fazzah vas a doctor, Herr Sniper?” Medic asked.

“What? Oh, naw, nothin’ like that,” said Sniper. “He wos a cattleherder, actually. He wanted me t’ be a doctor, though. Or a lawyer. Somethin’ that wos respectable an’ would make a lot a’ money.”

“He was jus’ wantin’ what was best fer ya,” said Engineer.

“That’s wot mum always says t’ me,” said Sniper. “I haven’t seen her in so long… not since I left Australia.”

“So go see ‘em again,” said Scout. “What’s stoppin’ ya?”

“Me dad,” Sniper said. “I think he’d jus’ be disappointed in me. I don’t even talk t’ ‘im anymore.”

“Yer lucky ya even got a dad,” said Scout. “My dad walked out on my ma before I was even born. Good fer nothin’ scumbag. I don’t know why my mom keeps datin’ all these losers like she does.” He looked over to Spy, squinting as his face scrunched up into a disdainful scowl.

Spy rolled his eyes. “You just can’t grow up, can you?”

“Shut up, ‘plague rat,’” Scout sneered.

“Hey, hey, hey now!” Engineer pointed to Scout with the mouth of his bottle. “I don’t want no more fightin’ tonight. We’ve done plenty a’ that already.”

“Yeah, ole’ Solly certainly saw ta that,” said Scout.

“Boy, drop it!” Engineer scolded. “We ain’t bringin’ that up again.”

Soldier had lost focus of the conversation, but he lifted his head at his mention. “Not Soldier anymore,” he said. “Told you to call me ‘Sir.’”

“Yes, ‘sir,’” Scout said snidely.

Engineer shook his head. “Lord help me, what am I gonna do with all a’ you?”

“Don’ look a’ me, I dinnae say nuffin’,” said Demoman. There were more empty bottles around him on the table than any other person, and he was now leaning heavily on the table, his head lolling to the side atop his crossed arms.

“I thought you were goin’ t’ AA meetin’s,” said Engineer. “Geez, Demo, what’re they gonna say when you go in t’ see ‘em next.”

“Och, they kin go an’ kiss me black arse, fer all I care,” Demoman said dismissively. “Bunch a’ Jesus freaks, th’ lot o’ ‘em.”

“‘Jesus freaks’ or no, they’re jus’ tryin’ t’ help you out,” said Engineer. “You oughta be a bit more grateful.”

“Bah!” Demoman swatted the air. “They’re noo fun an’ they’re all preachy an’ fulla’ themselves. But I hafta go. Judge required it an’ all.”

“What did you do zis time?” Spy asked.

“Ran o’er a mailbox,” said Demoman.

“Nobody got hurt, though,” Sniper was quick to add.

“Well, somebody could have been,” said Engineer. “I can imagine it was not a nice sight fer somebody to wake up in th’ middle a’ th’ night an’ see their mailbox knocked over by some drunk driver.”

“Oh, it weren’t a private mailbox,” said Demoman. “It wos one a’ those big blue ones ye see onna street corner.”

“Vhat vere you zinking?” Medic asked. “Going out to drive so drunk zat you managed to hit a giant postbox? Und you ah given ze opportunity to address ze obvious problem of your drinking und you just brush it off?” Medic reached over the table and plucked the half-empty bottle currently in the Scotsman’s hand, as Demoman responded with dull shock.

“I wos drinkin’ that!” Demoman protested.

“I zink you have had enough,” said Medic. “Und Sniper, you should know bettah zan to enable him.”

“Like I could bloody well make ‘im stop,” Sniper grumbled.

“You should,” said Medic. “You can obviously see vhat damage it’s doing to him, und he vould need your support.”

“Why don’ ye jes’ piss off?” Demoman drawled.

“You should listen to him,” said Soldier, not looking up from the table.

Demoman looked over to Soldier, and let out a low laugh. “Fancy that, then,” he said. “Yer actualleh agreein’ wi’ th’ Doc noo, eh?”
Soldier grunted. “Just trust me on this. I know. I’ve seen it.”

“Ye have, eh?” Demoman said.

“I’m thinkin’ we need t’ change th’ subject, here,” said Engineer. “I don’t want no more conflict tonight. I’ve had enough.”

“You’re ze vone who gave him ze alcohol,” said Medic. “You should know bettah.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna be rude,” said Engineer.

“Don’t worry about it, Truckie,” said Sniper. “I’ll take care a’ him.”

“You had bettah,” said Medic. “For his sake.”

“Actually, uh,” Engineer interrupted, looking all too eager to change the subject, “I was wonderin’… if any of y’all needed a place t’ stay fer th’ night.”

“Me an’ Bunny got a hotel,” said Scout. “S’all arranged already.”

“I got a bed in me van,” said Sniper. “Demoman can sleep in th’ back. I don’t mind sleepin’ on th’ seat.”

“You sure yer all right with sleepin’ outside?” Engineer asked.

Sniper gave Engineer a dismissive wave. “Eh, nothin’ I’m not already used to.”

“Actually,” Heavy spoke up, leaning forward a bit, “Doktor and I vere hoping you could help vit that.”

“Heavy, hush!” said Medic.

“But that is vhat you said!”

“He doesn’t need to know zat!” said Medic. “I don’t vant to come off like a... vhat is ze vord? Moocher?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Engineer with a laugh. “Yer more n’ welcome t’ stay th’ night. Mi casa, su casa.”

Medic and Heavy both stared blankly at the Engineer. Spy rolled his eyes and sighed. “It’s Spanish. ‘My home, your home.’”

“Oh!” said Heavy. “Tank you, Engineer!”

“Aw, ain’t no thing,” said Engineer. “Y’all are pretty much family, anyway. I got a guest room I can set ya up in, an’ th’ couch folds out inta a bed. Sir, Spah, do either a’ you need a place to crash fer th’ night?”

“No need,” said Spy. “I already have accommodations. Besides, I don’t think it will be necessary for me to come back tomorrow.”

“Well, all right,” said Engineer. “What about you, sir?”

Soldier looked up. He blinked, and then squinted, as though processing the question, before his eyebrows arched and he nodded. “That’s fine,” he said finally.

“Good!” said Engineer. “Glad ta hear it, sir!”

Just outside the kitchen, Rosie hovered around the doorframe. She had been listening to their conversation for a while. It was rude of her to eavesdrop, true, but she felt as though she would be intruding if she were to make her presence known. Some of them were staying there, including Sniper and that terrifying man they all just called “Sir.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about this, but then again… Sniper had said that they weren’t bad people, right? She simply gave a heavy sigh. No use fighting it. It would be easier to just surrender now and avoid any further conflict.

“Hey, hon?”

Rosie looked up and saw Bunny standing in the doorway, holding her swollen belly and leaning on the door frame. “You think you could go in there an’ get me a glass a’ wutter?”

“Oh! Sure thing!” Rosie turned and snuck into the kitchen, unnoticed by the men at the table. As quietly as she could manage, she opened the freezer and took out a tray of ice. She found herself continuing to listen in on their conversation as she went to the cabinet and took out an empty glass.

“… Can’t say I’ve ever gotten into it, mate.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s way better’n… whatever you watch over in Aussieland…”

“Ya don’t even know do ya, Scout?”

“No way. I’m not inta girl sports.”

“Oh, please. Yer version a’ ‘football’ here is like a watered-down rugby.”

“The hell is rugby?”

“‘American’ Football fer real men, s’wot it is.”

“Watch it, Kangaroo Boy.”

“Don’t call me that, ‘Sir.’ ‘Sides, yer footie doesn’t even involve feet. Ya hold th’ ball with yer hands, an’ th’ ball isn’t even shaped like a proper ball. It’s… this weird sort-of egg shape.”

“Ye should call it ‘Hand Egg.’”

Every non-American in the room then burst out into laughter at Demoman’s joke, with Engineer, Soldier and Scout looking annoyed or confused. Rosie cast a glance towards Sniper as she filled the glass with water, watching as the ice inside floated to the top. As she headed back out, she heard her father call out to her.

“Hey, Pumpkin!” Engineer said. “C’mon, siddown fer a spell, join us!”

“Naw, it’s all right,” she said, blushing a bit. Everyone has turned to look at her, including Sniper, and she could feel her ears starting to get hot. “I was jus’ getting’ some water fer Bunny.”

“Is she doin’ okay?” Scout asked, looking about ready to stand up from his chair.

“I think she was takin’ a nap in there,” said Rosie. “But she’s up now an’ wanted some more water, I was, uh, gonna keep her company.”

“Well, all right,” said Engineer. “But you know you two can come in whenever, ya hear?”

“I know,” she said with a nod, “Thanks, Daddy.” She turned and left, silently relieved to have gone. She slipped into the den, and saw Bunny had sat back down.

“Thanks, Hon,” she said, accepting the glass and taking a sip. “Gotta maintain my fluids.”

“You aren’t out there with th’ rest a’ them,” Rosie observed.

“Why should I be?” Bunny asked, rolling her eyes. “All guy talk over there. I’m not interested. Pretty sure I was just brought along ta show orff, anyway.” She patted the couch cushion beside her.

“C’mon, siddown, Sweetie. Keep me company. We can have girl talk.”

Rosie nodded, and sat down, placing her hands in her lap, one on top of the other, and keeping her knees close together.

“Don’t be so nervous, hon, yer fine,” said Bunny. “Kinda quiet most a’ the time, arencha?”

“Most a’ th’ time,” Rosie said, nodding in agreement.

“You shy, or you just don’t got that much ta say?”

She looked up at Bunny, slightly puzzled, before laughing nervously. “I… well, I ain’t ever really been asked that question before.”

“My mother always said I was always ‘direct’ when talkin’ ta people,” Bunny said. “I think that was a nice way of sayin’ ‘blunt.’”

“Guess so,” said Rosie. She wrapped a lock of her hair around her index finger, and bit her lip. “I… I dunno, I guess I’m a lil’s shy around strangers. An’, well, I don’t know what t’ say around those guys… most of ‘em are kinda… I dunno. Maybe not scary, but they are a bit intimidatin’.”

“Eh, they’re not so tough,” said Bunny dismissively. “My hubby told me plenty a’ stories about when he was workin’ with those guys. He didn’t tell me everything, though, like about how that big guy an’ the guy that looks like Gregory Peck were queers. That kinda surprised me, given how much he blabs about everything, ya know?”

“I guess so,” said Rosie. “I mean, yer husband seems like a nice feller an’ all, but that one they call ‘Sir,’ an’ that French guy, an’ th’ black guy that drinks all th’ time… just kinda make me uncomfortable, is all.”

“Don’t let ‘em get to ya. ‘Sides, I don’t think they’re the ones you should be worryin’ about.” Bunny’s tone went dark, and Rosie stopped twisting her hair long enough to meet Bunny’s gaze.

“Whuh… Whaddya mean?”

“That Aussie guy. Sniper.” Bunny narrowed her eyes. “He’s a creep. You take my advice an’ you stay away from him.”

Rosie’s face fell, and she shook her head. “Sniper? But… naw, he ain’t… he ain’t bad. He ain’t bad at all…”

“He went into yer room an’ he’s old enough to be yer dad. If that ain’t creepy, I don’t know what is.”

“It ain’t like that!” Rosie protested, raising her voice. She then immediately lowered it, hunching her shoulders. “It ain’t. He heard I was upset an’ figured I needed somebody t’ talk to, is all. He ain’t… he ain’t interested in me like that.”

“How do you know that? How do you know he’s just tryin’ ta be nice and polite ta win you over?” It was now Bunny’s turn to shake her head. “You can’t be too careful. Lot a’ bad people out there, wantin’ ta take advantage of a pretty little thing like you.”

“I ain’t that pretty,” Rosie mumbled.

“Bullshit,” said Bunny. “Bet if you dolled yourself up a bit, you’d be downright gorgeous.”

“I don’t know about all that,” said Rosie.

“See, if ya had some confidence in yerself, ya wouldn’t be taken advantage of by creepers like Sniper,” she said. “He’s a loser. Not married, illegitimate kid, hippie girlfriend, livin’ in a yurt… you don’t wanna end up with a guy like him. They’re all losers an’ creeps.”

Rosie bowed her head. He had been so nice and sweet to her, he liked the same things she did... no, Bunny had to be wrong about him. She didn’t know what he was like, judging him without even talking to him. But at the same time… the way she was talking about him worried her.

“Yer… yer not gonna tell Daddy, are ya?”

“I’m not,” said Bunny. “But only ‘cause I think there’s been enough drama around here already, ya know? Just, do yerself a favor… forget Sniper. Find yerself a nice boy your age, somebody with prospects an’ a steady job. Girl like you could probably do with a guy who’s got a degree.”

“Actually,” said Rosie, twiddling her thumbs in her lap, “I was thinkin’ a goin’ t’ college myself. Studyin’ art, ya know? I think I wanna get inta illustration. Make a livin’ fer myself, ya know?”

“Findin’ a nice guy wouldn’t hurt ya, hon,” said Bunny. “Just sayin’.”

Rosie went quiet for a moment, still twisting her hair, before she finally spoke up again. “I’m just not sure… that I like boys my age.”

Bunny gave the girl an odd look. “You serious?”

“They’re jus’ all loud an’ obnoxious an’ stupid… th’ cute ones, anyway… an’ th’ ones that are smart an’ sweet, well… they’re my friends. It jus’ seems weird t’ end up datin’ any a’ them.”

“Are they cute?”

“Well…” Rosie hesitated. “… In a way, I guess.”

“Listen, unless you wanna end givin’ yer old man a heart attack, you stick with somebody close to your age,” Bunny said. “Maybe you’ll find somebody in college.”

“Daddy says no boys until I’m married,” Rosie said, only half serious.

“Your daddy sounds a little bit like mine,” said Bunny. “I wasn’t as good a girl as you were, though. Went through a lot of losers before I met my puddin’-pie.”

“Is that what you call ‘im?” Rosie asked with a gentle laugh.

“Yeah, but he hates it when I call him that in front of his friends.” Bunny let out a little laugh. “He’s a lot sweeter than he lets on; wants to come off like a big tough guy all the time. But I know better.”

Rosie went quiet again. She wasn’t sure what else to say, and just hoped Bunny would carry on talking for a while more. But she had stopped talking, and just rubbed her stomach and smiled. The young girl fidgeted a bit, feeling as though she had to say something.

“You… said that yer havin’ yer second baby, right?”

“That’s right,” said Bunny.

“What’s yer son’s name again?”

“Raymond,” said Bunny. “He’s hopin’ for a lil’ brother, just like his daddy. Personally, though, I wouldn’t mind a girl. Little boys are a handful.”

“I wouldn’t really know,” said Rosie. “I mean, I only see my cousins around holidays or reunions.”

“Only child, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Rosie. “Never had no brothers or sisters.”

“Must be kinda strange,” said Bunny. “Most everybody I knew growin’ up had at least one brother ‘r sister.”

“It ain’t so bad,” said Rosie. “When I was really little, I wanted a little sister, an’ I heard Mama an’ Daddy talk about it, but it never happened.” She sighed. “I don’t mind, though.”

Bunny nodded sagely. She tilted her head back, and exhaled, letting out a long stream of breath. “Don’t you ever get hot out here?”

“It gets plenty hot,” said Rosie. “Ya jus’ get good at kepin’ cool.”

“I’ll bet,” said Bunny. “You know, I thought my puddin’ would be complaining, but he seems like he’s kinda used to it here. I brought him down to Bawldimore one summer t’ meet my folks, he kept complainin’ about th’ humidity, of all things.”

“Must be hard fer him t’ deal with.”

“Yeah, ‘specially bein’ from Bawston. It’s so cold up there most a’ the time.”

“I ain’t ever been,” Rosie admitted. “Actually, I ain’t really been far away from home. Farthest I’ve been was California when I was 10.”

“Where in California?”

“We, uh… we went t’ Disneyland,” said Rosie, blushing a bit. “Daddy took me up fer my birthday that year.”

“Lucky kid,” said Bunny.

“I guess so,” Rosie said with a nervous smile.

“You know,” said Bunny, turning to the girl beside her, “I was wrong, I think, about yer dad… no offense, but I thought he was gonna be some unpleasant hick but… he’s a nice man, an’ I think I left a bad impression. Just… tell him that for me, wouldja?”

“You could tell him,” said Rosie, her voice soft and timid.

“I’d rather not bring it up right now,” said Bunny. “Maybe… you can tell him once we’re gone, okay?”

Rosie nodded. “I will.”

“Thanks,” said Bunny. “You’re a good kid.”

Rosie gave a tiny smile and laughed a bit. “I try.”

YAY. YAY.

I will refrain from using silly emoticons, but hnnngggggYAY! I'm grinning my head off reading this again. Makes me wanna draw more. (Especially cringe-inducing polyester suit Scout.)

I distinctly remember before the chan crash reading the beginning of this, yet I didn't get that far in. After soaking this up in one go I must say I was an idiot. This is, as all of your works are Ms Bountry, absolutely wonderful. And that's holding some serious gushing in check.

I haven't commented on this fic before, even though I've read it. So. I LOVE THIS FIC. It's-. I have no words. I love it so much.

Also the last chapter really made me like Rosie. Goshdarnit, I want her to be happy.

You're so boss, Cat.

...Any tips for someone who might be interested in writing a fic?

>>12

I guess just try and plan out what you're going to do, discuss it with people and bounce off ideas, sit down and write the damn thing and have multiple editors just in case. And keep at it.

That's all I can really offer.

Sorry if this has been obviously answered somewhere, but:

Is this being continued...?

God, it's amazing. To say I am jealous of your writing ability is quite the understatement.

Beautiful character development. Very believable, which made an otherwise bland subject, very, very interesting to read.
Please keep up the fantastic work.

Awesome that you've reposted it all.

cat we need more of this

>>17

I am working on it, after several months of trying to focus more on school.

I think I'm starting to get back into the groove of writing just a little bit more. Hopefully I'll have something before my break is through.

>>18

Ugh, I can understand school. It eats up a vast majority of free time, so I can relate. I start back up on the 10th.

Just take your time, Cat; we'll wait patiently.

BOO. I thought there was a new chapter. My heart was all aflutter with excitement!

>>18
Echoing what BluScoutMama has said, though. I'll gladly wait a hundred years for another chapter. (I hope it doesn't take that long, though. I might be dead by this point. You'll have to dig me up and reanimate me ala Herbert West style.)

HOLY SHIT, AN UPDATE? OH WOW. IT'S PART TEN!

Hopefully this doesn't suck. Enjoy, you guys.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You sure ya don’t need a lift, Spah?”

“I assure you, I already have transportation arranged,” said Spy. After several hours deprived of nicotine, he had lit up a fresh cigarette as soon as he’d stepped out of the house. He inhaled deeply, like a fish that had been stranded on dry land and finally released back into the water.

“Just thought I’d ask,” said Engineer, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes drifted up to the light on the porch, which was currently swarmed by moths. The insects seemed to totally ignore the bugzapper that Engineer had constructed, much to the inventor’s eternal consternation.

“Your hospitality has certainly been appreciated, Laborer,” said Spy, and he blew a stream of smoke. “I assume zat you will give my offer some careful thought.”

“I’ll consider it,” said Engineer, speaking as though he were approaching a rattlesnake’s nest.

“Zat is all zat I ask,” said Spy. He sucked out the last bit of smoke from his cigarette, the paper turning to ash as the tiny orange ring burned its way through. He flicked it down to the ground, and stomped it out. “But it would be a shame not to have you back working wiz us again.”

Engineer sighed, and leaned against the door, crossing his arms. “Determined, aintcha?”

“I’m getting paid on commission for zis,” said Spy in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Engineer stared at Spy for a moment before chuckling. He shook his head. “Yer too much.”

“I may as well take my leave,” said Spy, turning to leave and already stepping off the porch. “If zat’s all ze same to you.”

“Wait!” said Engineer. He uncrossed his arms and trotted over a few paces over to Spy. “There was somethin’ I almost forgot.”

“Oh?” Spy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Engineer pointed to the garage. “Well, you were already in there, you probably saw ‘em, but… just come on, anyway.”

The two of them strode up to the garage. Spy looked over Engineer’s shoulder curiously as he opened the garage door, and walked in past the monstrous automobile sitting inside. Spy stepped around the truck and peered over to see Engineer pull a sheet of canvas off of a pile of what appeared to be scrap. He then grabbed hold of a large, unwieldy and yet familiar-looking piece of machinery, carrying it in his arms and presenting it to Spy.

“A teleporter?” Spy cocked his head and looked at Engineer incredulously.

“I made a few modifications,” said Engineer. He bent down and let out a grunt as he placed it on the floor. As he got back up, he wiped his brow with the back of his arm, and smiled. “It’s a two-way teleporter now. It oughta work over much longer distances, but th’ farther away th’ two parts for it are, th’ longer it takes fer th’ transfer. It should work jes’ fine, I’ve done a bit a’ testing.”

Spy looked at the machine with some disdain, and shook his head. “Zat won’t do at all. I can’t have you coming to where I live whenever you feel like it. Far too risky.”

Engineer’s face fell. “Oh,” he said quietly, and looked down at the teleporter entrance. “I… I understand. Just thought, maybe, you’d-”

“Trust me, if I wish to see you, I will do it on my own terms.” Spy waved dismissively at Engineer. “Besides… I higly doubt zat you have authorization to use ze teleporters as a civilian.”

“They don’t hafta know,” said Engineer, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. “‘Sides, when I sold them th’ patent, they didn’t say nothin’ about non-commercial use of th’ teleporters.”

“Zat loophole is not going to work and you know it,” said Spy, jabbing his finger in the air towards Engineer.

“Even if I decided to work for ‘em again?” Engineer asked, grinning.

“I zhought you said you were going to zink about it.” Spy gave the Texan a sideways glance.
“I am,” said Engineer, smiling wider now. “Just askin’, is all.”

Spy frowned, and his shoulders slumped. “Look,” he said. “You have put yourself in a razzer compromising position, building a teleporter for me just to visit you.”

“Teleporters.” Engineer stressed the last syllable. “You ain’t getting’ treated special. I was gonna give an entrance t’ everybody.”

“And you zink zat is wise?” Spy craned his neck around Engineer to look at the stacks of teleporter entrances and exits, stacked one on top of the other upon a workbench and clearly labeled and numbered.

“Aw, heck, maybe it ain’t,” Engineer admitted, chuckling as he did so. “But fact a’ th’ matter is that I miss all a’ y’all, an’ I figured well, shoot… we’re all spread out all over th’ place, maybe we should try an’ make it easier t’ see each other more often, yeah?”

Spy didn’t respond. He gently pushed Engineer aside with the back of his hand and walked over to the teleporters, examining them closely and running a hand over their metal casing. Engineer swallowed nervously, and wet his dry lips as he watched Spy.

“Ya ain’t gonna tell RED about ‘em, are ya?”

“I can exclude it from my report,” said Spy, turning back to Engineer. His expression was grim, with his eyes half-lidded but still looking over Engineer like an insect under glass. “But if my superiors find out, zey will not be pleased wiz me.”

“Thanks, Spah,” said Engineer. “Ya always were good at keepin’ secrets.”

“It was part of ze requirements for ze job,” Spy said, walking away from the work bench and strolling up to Engineer. “‘Suave, ‘andsome, must be able to kill wizzout remorse and to keep company secrets even under torture…’ you know, standard zings.”

Engineer looked up and Spy, silent for a moment with his jaw slightly slack, before the corner of his mouth twitched back and he gave a nervous chuckle. Spy did not reciprocate but instead walked past Engineer. The shorter man twisted himself round to watch Spy walking out of the garage as he jogged alongside him.

“I should take my leave,” said Spy, putting a hand on the garage door frame. “I have much work to do.”

“You ever gonna come back an’ visit?” Engineer asked, sounding almost meek as he started to lace his fingers.

Spy turned his head, so that it was in profile in Engineer’s view. “We shall see,” said Spy, turning the slightest bit. “For your sake, however, you should hope zat I don’t, as it will not mean anyzing good.”

“If you say so.” Engineer leaned on his truck and chuckled again. “You take care a’ yerself, Spah.”

This time, Spy whirled around to face Engineer, his mouth twisted upwards in some cross between a self-confident smirk and a smile. “As zhough I need to be told.”

“Jus’ sayin’.” Engineer put up his hands in defense, and waved them aside. “Ain’t too much trouble t’ express concern fer an old friend, is it?” He held out a hand to Spy, and offered him a friendly grin.

Spy glanced at the hand. He hesitated, before he finally withdrew his hand from his pocket and grasped Engineer’s hand, shaking it firmly. He had not expected for Engineer to step forward, reaching an arm around him and bringing him into a hug, clapping a hand soundly on Spy’s back. Still somewhat stunned as Engineer let his hand slide off and stepped back with that goofy smile on his face, Spy cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

“I should be going,” said Spy, smoothing out his suit jacket.

“I’ll see ya around, pardner.” Engineer waved at Spy, still smiling.

Spy nodded. “Farewell, Engineer.” He shoved his hands back into his pockets, and walked down the dirt road, out into the darkness and away from the lights on the porch. Engineer watched his silhouette melt into the blackness, wondering how he would get back to home or RED headquarters or wherever he was going. The Engineer sighed, and shuffled out of the garage and back to the house, where the sounds of dwindling conversation could still be heard.


“You sure you don’t wanna stay the night, Scout?”

“We got a room, Hardhat,” said Scout, as he opened the passenger’s side door for Bunny. “‘Sides, you look like you ain’t gonna have much room left in the house anyway.”

“We can always make room fer ya,” said Engineer, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Scout shut the car door as his wife took her seat.

“Payin’ good money for that room,” she added.

“If you say so,” said Engineer. His face suddenly lit up and he snapped his fingers. “Oh! Before you two head on out, I want ya t’ have somethin’. Lemme jes’ git it from th’ garage real quick.” Before Scout or Bunny could object, Engineer scuttled off to the garage.

Scout looks back to his wife helplessly, as she sighed and crossed her arms. He looked to the shed, and could hear the sounds of clattering metal from inside. He winced at the sound of a particularly loud clang, and could hear Engineer letting out a string of almost-swears. After a few moments, Engineer emerged from the shed, carrying in his arms a hunk of metal that gleamed in the light coming from the porch. He walked toward Scout with a bowlegged stance as he tried to carry the equipment over, and Scout jogged over to help him.

“The hell is that?” Scout asked, looking down at the object in Engineer’s arms.

“You don’t recognize th’ teleporter when you see it?” Engineer asked, smiling. He handed the equipment off to Scout’s open arms, and chuckled as Scout doubled over as Engineer let go. Scout strained, trying to straighten his back to lift it.

“Whatsa matter, boy?” Engineer asked, shaking his head. “I thought you’d be able t’ handle that lil’ ole’ thing.”

“S’heavier than it looks,” Scout wheezed. He managed to lift it to about waist level, and heaved it into the back seat.

“Fer goshsakes, Scout, be careful with th’ darn thing!” Engineer looked over the backseat to check for any damage to the teleporter.

“You’d better not’ve broken it!” Bunny scolded, turning her head back as far as she could. “That thing looks expensive.” She paused. “What is it, anyway?”

“S’a teleporter, Bunny, he just said that, Jesus!” Scout batted Engineer away from his car. “It’s fine, see? Not even scratched.”

“A teleporter?” Bunny repeated, giving her husband an odd look. “Sounds like somethin’ science-fiction-y.”

“In a way,” said Engineer, chuckling. “Jes’ cover it up on yer way out, wouldya? I’m not sure if I’m even allowed t’ be givin’ this to ya.”

“S’a pretty risky souvenir, don’cha think?” Scout asked, casting a wary glance at the teleporter in his back seat.

“Well, I figured I might as well save ya th’ money on gas next time ya decide t’ come on by.” Engineer gave Scout a wily grin, and watched as the younger man’s face lit up in realization.

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “How did you…?”

“Science,” said Engineer simply. “I’d go into more detail, boy, but I don’t wanna make yer head spin.”

“Yeah, thanks, Egghead,” said Scout, opening the door to the driver’s side and sitting down. Engineer walked around the car, and hunched over Scout’s window, leaning his arm against the roof of the car, as Scout rolled down his window.

“Y’all make sure t’ come back anytime, ya hear?” said Engineer with a smile. “Maybe bring th’ little ones next time.”

“Yeah, sure.” Scout nodded, and stuck his key in the ignition, bringing the engine to life.

“Jus’ make sure ya call ‘fore ya head on over,” said Engineer, straightening his back and placing his hands on his hips. “Take care a’ yerself, son.”

“You too, Hardhat,” said Scout. “See ya around.” He started the car and gripped the wheel, backing out onto the dirt driveway and turning out onto the lonely main road. Before they had gone too far, Engineer noticed Bunny’s arm waving from her side of the car, and could overhear a “Thanks fer havin’ us, hon!” shouted in his direction. Engineer watched as the car’s rear lights grew smaller and smaller, until the twin red glows disappeared completely. He let out a whistful sigh, and turned to go back inside. Sleeping arrangements needed to be made.



The house had long gone quiet. Soldier was sleeping fitfully on the couch, clutching his plastic beach shovel to his chest like it was a teddy bear, and tangling his legs in the sheets. On the floor, Sniper finally managed to drift off to sleep in a musty-smelling sleeping bag; Rosie had insisted on finding him a something so he wouldn’t be stuck outside in his van. Sniper didn’t feel right staying inside while Demo was in the van, and Rosie rummaged through the attic until a second sleeping bag was produced. Demoman’s sleeping bag was perpendicular to Sniper’s, though it hardly seemed to matter that he had any sleeping accommodations at all, as he could have easily collapsed anywhere in the house and not have noticed, as he snored and slurred drunken ramblings in his slumber. In the guest room, Heavy and Medic shared a bed much too small for the both of them, huddled close together under the covers. Rosie and Engineer were in their own rooms, and while Rosie slept, Engineer found himself unable to succumb to slumber, his fingers laced over his chest as he stared at the ceiling. He was kept awake by a flurry of thoughts buzzing around inside his brain. He felt more aware of how far too large this bed was for him alone, though he still slept on the side of the bed that had been his. Turning over on his side, he faced where Irene used to lay next to him, and put a hand over the empty spot beside him. He kept meaning to get a new bed, a smaller one, since there really wasn’t any practical reason to keep this old thing. He thought this almost every night for the past few years, and yet, he always seemed to come up with some kind of excuse to convince himself that it wasn’t necessary. He might find somebody new. He had other things to spend his money on. There were more important things for him to think about. As he told himself these things, he began to feel restless. He sat up in his bed, and put his hands to his face, dragging them down until his fingertips met just below his chin. Thirsty, he thought. Maybe a glass of water might help.

Engineer swung his feet over the side of the bed, and stood to his feet with a grunt. As he shuffled his way to the kitchen, he became acutely aware of just how much older he felt. His joints ached and his muscles in his shoulders and back felt sore. He flipped on the light switch in the kitchen, and squinted as the light stung his eyes. Once his eyes adjusted, he walked to the cupboard and removed a clean glass, and then leaned over the sink, twisting the handle for the cold water. He filled his glass, and turned the knob back, only to hear the floorboards creak under the carpet close by. He turned around to see Medic standing just outside the kitchen, putting his glasses on.

“Vhat ah you doing avake?” Medic asked.

“I could ask th’ same a’ you,” said Engineer, taking his glass of water with him to the kitchen table. “Thought you’d be asleep with Heavy.”

“I vas,” said Medic, stepping into the kitchen. “But I voke up und could not get back to sleep. I am... not accustomed to ze noises of zis house.”

“I hate it when that happens.” Engineer pulled out his chair and sat down. “Had trouble gettin’ t’ sleep myself.”

“Is zat so?” Medic asked, taking a seat opposite of Engineer. “Zis does not happen too often, I hope?”

“Naw…” Engineer lied. He looked up at Medic, whose expression was suddenly stern. “Well… maybe a little bit.”

“I see,” said Medic, lacing his fingers together. “How frequently does zis happen?”

“Doc, ya ain’t my doctor no more,” Engineer said. “You don’t gotta worry about me like this, it ain’t your job.”

“But I consider you to be mein freund,” said Medic. “I’m sure you would not mind telling your problems to an old friend, would you?” He smiled as he looked at Engineer, bringing his laced hands underneath his chin.

Engineer took a sip from his water, and shook his head with a dry chuckle. “I s’pose ya got me there, Doc,” he said. “It’s nothin’ really, though. I have nights on an’ off where I can’t really sleep… just end up spendin’ th’ whole time in bed thinkin’, ya know?”

“I see,” said Medic. “If you do not mind me asking, vhat is it zat you ah zinking about?” He leaned forward a bit and tilted his head.

“Nothin’ worth talkin’ about, really,” said Engineer. His eyes wandered away from Medics, and were now engaged with studying the notes that were stuck on the refrigerator.

“But it still keeps you from sleeping,” said Medic, unlacing his fingers to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “If you do not wish to tell me, simply say so. We have known each ozzer long enough zat you do not have to lie to me.”

“No, look here, I ain’t-” Engineer pointed a finger at Medic, and found himself unable to finish as he was met with Medic’s cold, discerning gaze. He sighed, and slumped back in his chair. “I… I ain’t lyin’ exactly, Doc. S’nothin’ ya gotta worry about.”

“If it is causing disruption of sleep, zen I have cause enough to worry,” said Medic. “You can tell me. No vone else is avake, und you know zat I keep zings confidential.”

Engineer adjusted himself in his seat, sitting up straight. He took another sip from his glass, and set it down with another sigh. “I’ve… had trouble sleepin’ some nights fer th’ past seven years now, Doc.”

“Seven years?” Medic echoed, folding his hands again.

“Since Irene passed,” said Engineer. “I know it’s been a long time, but… it’s somethin’ that I’ve been dwellin’ on far too long, I s’pose.”

“Vhat makes you say zat?” Medic raised an eyebrow.

“Family says so,” said Engineer. He slid his glass in front of him, and wrapped both hands around it. “Says that I shoulda’ remarried by now. I got a cousin, her husband drowned after fallin’ off a boat drunk, an’ she remarried jus’ two years later.” He shrugged. “Every time I go to a git-together with th’ folks, I keep getting’ th’ same questions: ‘When are ya gonna see somebody new?’, an’ ‘When are you gonna try an’ remarry?’ an’ ‘Don’cha think Rosie needs a new mother?’”

“Zey seem to put a lot of emphasis on you having a romantic relationship in your life,” Medic observed. “I vould zink zat vould not be any of zheir business.”

“It’s jus’ th’ way they are,” Engineer said, looking up from his glass. “They don’t mean nothin’ by it, they’re jus’ worried an’ tryin’ t’ help. Soldier suggested th’ same thing earlier, an’… I don’t know.” He shook his head again.

“Do you feel ze need to start looking for female companionship again?” Medic asked, leaning forward a bit.

“Aw, hell, I don’t know,” Engineer leaned back in his chair, and started rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m kinda afraid it won’t feel right. I never really was good with women, an’ I considered myself lucky when I wound up with her.”

“She must have been very special to you,” Medic said, nodding with interest.

“Yeah… she was special, all right.” Engineer started to smile and look wistful. “She kinda… helped me come outta my shell when we were in college. She was this… firey, assertive kinda girl. Most other boys didn’t know what t’ make a’ her. Thought she was strange. Thought she was actin’ out. But that’s just how she was… she had a strong sense a’ what was right an’ what was wrong an’ if you stood in her way, she wasn’t afraid t’ sock ya in the mouth.”

“Did zat happen often?” Medic was smirking at the thought.

“A few times,” said Engineer, chuckling. “There were a lot a times she nearly scared th’ pants off a’ me. I never talked about this much, ‘specially in front a’ Soldier, but…” he lowered his voice a bit, just in case Soldier might overhear them from the other room. “… She was somethin’ of a feminist.”

Medic raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”

“She was inta Integration as well,” said Engineer. “Early in our relationship, she dragged me along t’ a sit in at a Whites Only lunch counter with a bunch a negro students an’ we were th’ only two whites participatin’. By th’ time th’ cops came, I chickened out an’ ran, an’ she got arrested fer spittin’ on an officer. I had to post her bail, an’ even then she didn’t speak t’ me for a week because I got scared.”

The doctor let out a soft laugh, and adjusted his spectacles. “I am sorry, Engineer, I am just trying to picture zis… it’s an amusing image to me.”

“Weren’t amusing at th’ time,” said Engineer, his eyes going wide. “I was terrified! I’d been a bit of a rough neck when I was growin’ up, but everybody knew each other ‘round Bee Cave. You got caught by th’ cops, it wasn’t a big deal, since you knew most of th’ officers anyway. Here, it was… scarier. Not like bein’ caught racin’ on back roads with yer buddies. She called me out on it, too. She said to me,” Engineer started wagging his finger in Medic’s direction, “she says ‘Delmond Conagher, yer a gutless, yellow-bellied coward an’ I’m disappointed in you.’”

He slumped back in his seat. His eyes looked back up to Medic, who was still looking at him with rapt attention. “She had somethin’ I didn’t have before I met her. She had conviction. I didn’t really have that.” He sighed. “Sure, I loved science and math and buldin’ things, but I didn’t have any interest in politics or any strong beliefs like she did. I didn’t have her sense a’ justice. I just kinda looked out fer number one. But she changed that… I think she kinda made me better for it.”

“Ze right person vill do zat for you,” said Medic. “I vould have liked to have met her.”

“I would’a liked t’ have introduced her t’ everybody.” Engineer started to smile again. “She wasn’t like most other girls… she latched onto me because I was a scientist an’ she was interested in science.”

“Vas she?” Medic couldn’t mask his surprise.

“Well… t’ be fair, she was more inta science fiction,” said Engineer. “She wanted t’ be a writer, an’ she’d ask me all kinds a’ questions ‘bout things that would show up in her stories. She loved th’ idea of space exploration an’ aliens an’ robots… an’ me, I’d never met any girl that had any sort a’ interest in any a’ that. All seemed like guy stuff.”

“You said she vanted to be a writer,” Medic said. “Did she ever try to publish zese stories?”

“Tried,” said Engineer, sighing. He looked at his glass, and started to trace the rim of it with the tip of his forefinger. “Got rejected every single time. Couple of th’ letters just said outright that nobody would read a science fiction story by a woman.” He picked up his glass and drank the rest of the water down. For a moment he looked at the now empty glass before he set it back down. “I suggested she use initials fer her first an’ last name, or write under a male pseudonym, but she said no. She wanted to be recognized as a woman who wrote science fiction. Even tried to write science fiction aimed at women, by throwin’ in romance an’ whatnot. An’, well, I tried t’ support her as best I could… bought her a typewriter as a weddin’ gift, drove her out t’ publishers offices t’ meet editors in person… didn’t get nowhere. By th’ time Rosie was born, it ended up bein’ less an’ less of a priority over raisin’ a family.” Engineer stared into his empty glass, and rested his chin in his hand.

There was a brief silence. Engineer looked back up at Medic, who said nothing, and only looked at him with concern. He looked back down at his empty glass, and then back up at his friend. “You know somethin’?”

“Vhat is zat?” Medic laced his fingers under his chin.

“This is th’ first time I’ve been able t’ talk about her in years,” Engineer let out a hoarse laugh. “I haven’t wanted t’ see anybody else again because… I feel like maybe it’d make me love her less… but I think it’s mostly because I don’t know if I could find anybody as amazin’ an’ as special as she was to me.” His smile started to waver, and he brought his hand up to wipe away at his eye. “I’m sorry, I just… got somethin’ in my eye.”

“Vhat did I tell you about lying?” Medic said, with a slight smile on his lips. “Nobody is vatching, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Engineer sniffled. “I just have found myself gettin’ all worked up one too many times today.”

“You have a good reason,” said Medic.

“Yeah…” Engineer cleared his throat, and sniffed back any more tears that might come forth. He went quiet, and looked up at Medic as though he were expecting the older man to say something, anything, to break the uncomfortable silence.

Medic was finally merciful enough to provide Engineer with the interruption he needed. “I know how you ah feeling, Engineer,” he said, putting his hands back down onto the table surface. “I too lost somevone zat meant much to me, many years ago.”

“Yeah?” Engineer sat up a bit straighter in his chair.

“It is… somezing I am not quite ready to talk about yet,” said Medic, choosing his words with delicacy. “But vhen I lost him, I vas convinced I vould never truly love anyvone ever again, much like you have… but tventy-five years later, I meet a man who taught me to feel like a human being again, if you vill pardon ze overly romantic sentiments.” He smiled. “Perhaps you too may meet anozzah person who vill complete you… or perhaps not. But should you find zem… do not be afraid to let zem in, Engineer.”

“You think so?” Engineer asked.

“Anyzing is possible,” said Medic with a shrug.

“Thanks, Doc,” Engineer said, smiling. He shoulders became less tense, and his posture more relaxed. “Seems like those years livin’ alone with Heavy seemed to have had a positive effect on yer disposition.”

“You could say zat,” Medic said with a nod. “My life has been fah less stressful since our contract viz RED ended.”

“I imagine it’d be a lot more stressful if you adopted that kid Heavy wants,” Engineer said with a chuckle.

In an instant, Medic’s smile withered away, and his casual posture reverted back to his more familiar stiff, straight-laced demeanor.

“I’m sorry,” Engineer said, sitting up straighter and putting his hands up in an apologetic gesture. “I… I didn’t mean ta-”

“I know you did not,” said Medic, lacing his fingers again, but pressing his index fingers against each other. “It is a complicated subject. Zere is ze obvious issue of legality, as vell as ze fact zat most of ze neighbors know about ze exact nature of Heavy und I’s relationship.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again with his index finger. “I have explained zis to Heavy many times, but he does not seem to care, so I must tell him repeatedly zat I simply have no desire to raise a child. If I had, I vould have had vone viz my ex-wife.”

“Maybe ‘cause ya didn’t love her like ya do Heavy?” Engineer suggested. “I dunno. I think you’d make a fine father, Doc.”

Medic’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

“You an’ Heavy would set each other off well,” Engineer said. “Th’ two a’ you are pretty much an’ old married couple anyway. I think th’ two a’ you together could raise a kid jus’ fine.”

The doctor looked unsure how to respond to this, bringing up a hand as though to make a counterpoint. He did not, however, and his hand was left hovering in the air, as Engineer smiled back at him.

“Thanks fer talkin’ with me, Doc.” Engineer scooted his chair back and stood up, picking up his glass. He walked over to the sink. “It means a lot ta me, havin’ somebody I can have an earnest discussion with.” He put the glass down, and walked back over to Medic, clapping the older man on the back with brotherly affection. “I think I might jus’ sleep easier tonight.”

“You’re velcome,” Medic said flatly, his voice soft.

“You get some sleep, Doc,” said Engineer, leaving the kitchen. “‘Night!”

“Gute nacht,” Medic said far less enthusiastically. He listened as Engineer walked back to his own bedroom, and opened and closed the door, which let out a soft creak. He sat in the kitchen, sitting almost completely still in his chair, his back still rigid. The light felt harsh on him, in this bright, white and yellow kitchen. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together, and looked at the refrigerator. It was covered in an array of magnets, notes, photographs and drawings. Medic pushed himself back from the table, chair scooting across the linoleum floor with an unpleasant dragging noise, and walked over to it. He looked over the various reminders of doctors appointments and PTA meetings, and plucked off a drawing from the fridge that was peeking out from under an out-of-date calendar, and more than a decade old. It was scribbled on a sheet of legal pad paper, and drawn in bright crayon. It depicted a rather crude, child-like rendering of a man, a woman and a young girl, holding hands in front of a house. Off to the side there were three horses that were somehow floating above ground, and a dog that was squeezed in on the edge of the drawing. In the sky were large, loosely spaced letters written in bright red Crayon, listing off everyone in the drawing: “MOMMY DADDY ROSIE BUTTRCUP SIVLR MAGNOLA + DAISE.” In the bottom corner was the artist’s signature. “BY ROSIE AGE 5.”

Medic could feel a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and he put the drawing back in its place on the fridge. He stepped back and took one last look before he turned on his heel and walked away, flipping off the lightswitch as he left the kitchen. He walked down the hall, and back into the guest bedroom, where Heavy still lay sleeping, his arm reaching over where Medic had been. The doctor smiled, and took off his glasses, folding them and placing them on the nightstand by the bed. He lifted the larger man’s arm, and slid in bed next to his lover. Gently, Medic lowered Heavy’s arm back over his own chest, and curled up next to the giant man. He kissed Heavy on his brow, and snuggled next to him, closing his eyes and eventually drifting back to sleep.

When I first saw that you had updated, I went, "Fuck YES!".

After reading part 10, I started to cry. It was so sad, yet so happy at the same time. In other words, it was bittersweet.

I love this story, Cat. Love it so much. In fact, I love pretty much everything you write! There has to be a place where all of your works are found!

Keep up the fantastic work, Cat!

This is so beautiful. I just- I feel the emotion so thoroughly through your writing. You don't have to even explain what they're feeling in detail and I can still understand. It's amazing.

I kid you not, my shuffle playlist of over 600 songs started playing Married Life from Up when Engie started talking about Irene.

I knew an update was coming, but I was not prepared.

I'm also all sniffly due to flu and this made it even worse! Engie is a such beautifully written character. You've taken what basically consisted of just random snippets of personality from the game and breathed a certain soul into it.

I love this. Wonderful dialogue, great interactions, it's like watching a movie. Can't wait for the next update!
And this time I kinda hope that nothing bad will happen to Spy...

inb4 pyro is a girl and engi marries her

>>27

Pretty sure Cat's Pyro has always been a dude, bro.

...Inb4 Engie gets gay married to Pyro.

So if one of them decide to use the teleporter to Engy's place, how do they get back?

>>29

He already said it's two-way, didn't he? Engie can just reprogram his end to send them back, then switch it again when they're at home.

>>30

“I made a few modifications,” said Engineer. He bent down and let out a grunt as he placed it on the floor. As he got back up, he wiped his brow with the back of his arm, and smiled. “It’s a two-way teleporter now. It oughta work over much longer distances, but th’ farther away th’ two parts for it are, th’ longer it takes fer th’ transfer. It should work jes’ fine, I’ve done a bit a’ testing.”
He has the other half of all of them in his garage. Sorry if that wasn't made clear.

OH MY GOD I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED IT JESUS CHRIST.

There may be more installments in the future, but for now, the Reunion ends here, which is kind of a relief for me because that's one less unfinished project I've been sitting on top of.

Enjoy.

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The first person to wake at Engineer’s ranch was Soldier, who awoke as he always did: at the crack of dawn. He started his morning by going outside and performing morning stretches, his old muscles straining from the tension. His tendons felt like old door hinges in need of oiling at times, he thought as he bent forward to touch his toes. After finishing his stretches, he proceeded with his usual routine of 50 push-ups, and then another 50 with one hand behind his back, though he restrained himself with only 30 crunches. He was getting older, yes, but maintaining his physical fitness was something so ingrained in him, he’d never thought twice about dropping his routine. By his second lap he noticed the screen door open and slam behind the Guard Dog, who trotted outside carrying something in his mouth. Soldier stopped momentarily as the dog walked up to him, and dropped the object it was holding by Soldier’s feet.

It was a stuffed dog, its fur hardened and spiky from dried dog saliva. It was stitched together with white and brown plush fur, its cloth ears long and floppy, and its large, doe-like eyes stared out to the horizon. Soldier looked down at the toy, and then back to Guard Dog.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Soldier asked, giving Guard Dog an odd look.

Guard Dog wagged his tail and pranced backwards in excitement, making soft growls as he did so. He then looked up at Soldier, his whole body wagging with anticipation, and jerked his head towards the open yard. Then he barked.

Soldier took the hint and tossed the toy as far as he could. Guard Dog watched it sail through the air, and, once it landed, he ran to it and came to a full stop as he picked the toy up in his jaws as gently as he might pick up a newborn puppy. He then trotted back up to Soldier, placed the toy back on the ground by Soldier’s feet again, and sat looking up at the man. Again, Soldier bent down to pick up the toy and threw it. Guard Dog watched it, and then ran to fetch it again. This process was repeated several times over, and Guard Dog grew more and more excited every time he brought the toy back, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted with anticipation. Soldier smiled a bit, and rubbed the dogs head between his perky ears. “Good dog,” he said. “Good boy.”

“You playin’ with ole’ Guard Dog?”

Soldier whipped his head around to see Sniper standing in the front doorway, leaning on the frame and holding a cup of steaming coffee. He had thrown on his ugly yellow shirt from yesterday, but had not bothered buttoning it, exposing a white undershirt that looked as though it was in desperate need of a wash. Guard Dog saw Sniper and bounded over to shove his nose in Sniper’s crotch again.

“Bloody ‘ell, why d’you only do that t’ me?” Sniper cried as he managed to avoid spilling his coffee on himself. The dog didn’t seem to care all that much, and just looked up at Sniper and barked.

“Don’t you have a dog?” Soldier asked. “I’d bet that’s why.”

“Yeah, I do, but so does Demo,” Sniper scratched the underside of the dog’s chin. “An’ Medic n’ Heavy. He did this t’ me back when we were still in th’ war, too.”

Soldier shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, then. I don’t own dogs. Apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“Well, yer not gonna be there much longer, are ya?” Sniper patted Guard Dog on the side.

“I suppose not, no,” Soldier said, his voice somewhat subdued.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Sniper asked. He looked at Soldier with a furrowed brow.

“It’s nothing,” said Soldier, marching up to the porch. “You’re up awful early.”

“You have a five year old kid, ya get used t’ wakin’ up early,” Sniper said with a shrug. “Force a’ habit nowadays.”

“Still can’t believe you had a kid.” Soldier shook his head to further express his disbelief. “I always figured you’d be a loveless hermit your whole life.”

Sniper barked an uneasy laugh. “Not quite, mate. Me ole’ lady and Demo got friends, an’ they won’t let me alone.” He looked back down at Guard Dog, and scratched the animal between his ears. “I guess I don’t mind, though. They keep me busy.”

“Huh,” Soldier just crossed his arms. He looked pensive, and shifted his weight from foot to foot. After a moment of fidgeting, he looked up. “Is anybody else awake yet?”

“Naw, not yet,” said Sniper. “So be quiet when ya go in th’ house.”

“Disgraceful!” Soldier huffed. “Two years of getting up every day at six in the morning and the lot of them are slacking off again!”

“That’s ‘cos we don’t have ta get up at six in th’ bloody mornin’ any more.” Sniper stopped petting Guard Dog, which caused the dog to whine impatiently. “Not all of us are complete nutters like you.”
Soldier scowled at Sniper, and without another word he turned to go back inside.

“Hey!” Sniper called. “Yer not thinkin’ a’ wakin’ everybody up, are ya?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Soldier asked, turning back to face Sniper.

“Because we’re not at Dustbowl or Gravel Pit anymore,” said Sniper. “’Sides, it’s jes’ bloody rude t’ wake people up with a bugle.”

“That’s how it’s done in the army!” Soldier protested, puffing out his chest.

“Yeah, well, in case ya dinnit’ notice, we ain’t in th’ army.” Sniper stepped back as Guard Dog raced away from beside him. He watched as the dog barked at an armadillo skittering across the front yard, and he turned back to Soldier. “You wanna wake everybody up? You do what I do with me ole lady. Start makin’ breakfast an’ coffee an’ she’ll wake up all gentle like.”

“Do I look like Engie’s maid?” Soldier huffed, crossing his arms again.

“Yer not his drill sergeant either,” Sniper shot back. “After all th’ trouble you caused him yesterday, it might do ya some good t’ try an’ do somethin’ nice fer him, considerin’ all th’ good things he’s done fer you.” Sniper’s gaze did not stray away from Soldier’s eyes, and Soldier turned his head and sighed.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But you’re helping, since it was your idea.” He then wagged his finger at Sniper, and gave the Australian his usual sneer.

“S’alright by me, mate,” Sniper responded with a smile.


The smell of bacon hit Engineer’s olfactory senses, cutting through visions of him floating far above the earth in a clear glass bubble and jerking his mind back to his body. His eyes popped open, and he rolled over on his side to look at the clock on the nightstand. It was 7:33. Usually Rosie preferred to sleep in on the weekends, and would very rarely be up so early to be making breakfast.

No, wait, he thought. She wasn’t the only one here in the house. He had a house full of guests, and one of them must have taken it upon themselves to fix their own breakfast. He couldn’t smell anything burning, so that was a good sign at least. He sat up in his bed, stretched his neck and arms, and pressed his palms against the small of his back until he felt it crack. He grunted, and swiveled himself around, dangled his legs over the side of the bed, and slid his feet into his well-worn slippers. He stood up, and plodded over to pick up his robe, which was draped over his chair. As he slipped his arms into the sleeves, he left the bedroom and shuffled down the hall to the kitchen.

As he finished tying his robe around his waist, he stopped just short of the entrance and saw Soldier standing over his grill. Soldier was scraping fried eggs out of a frying pan, mumbling to himself as he lifts the eggs from the pan and plopped them on a plate beside him.

“Well, I sure wasn’t expectin’ t’ wake up ta this,” Engineer said with a chuckle, putting his hands on his hips.

Soldier turned around, and narrowed his eyes. “About time you got up,” he said, and turned to scrape the bacon off the pan. “I was afraid I was going to have to get you up myself.”

Engineer didn’t say anything at first. He walked into the kitchen, and noticed Sniper fiddling with his coffee machine. “Yer up too?” He asked.

“Yep,” said Sniper, flipping the coffee machine on. “Ya don’t mind us makin’ breakfast, do ya, Truckie?”

“Naw, I don’t mind, I guess,” said Engineer. “Just weren’t expecting it.”

Two slices of toast popped out of the toaster, and Soldier snatched them up and slapped them down on the plate. He set the plate down on the table, pulled out the closest chair and looked at Engineer as he extended his arm, his palm facing toward the shorter man, and he let out a grunt.

“Oh!” Engineer cried out in realization. “Thank ya kindly, Sir.”

“You don’t have to call me ‘Sir,’” Soldier said. He sounded uncomfortable as he said it, and he quickly went back to the stove.

“I don’t?” Engineer sat down to his plate of fried eggs, bacon and toast. “Well then, what should I call ya, then, if ya don’t mind me askin’?”

Soldier seemed to hesitate, his hand hovering over an uncooked strip of bacon. “‘Jane’ is fine,” he said, and picked up a piece of the raw pork product and placed it on the frying pan.

“‘Jane’?” Sniper gave Soldier a quizzical look.

“Yeah, ‘Jane,’” Soldier barked back. “You got a problem with that, Dingo-Bait?”

“It’s… it’s not like a masculine form or somethin’, is it?” Sniper poured a mug of hot coffee. “How ya like yer coffee, Truckie?”

“Two sugars is fine,” Engineer responded, and shoveled a forkful of egg into his mouth.

“No, it’s not a masculine form of anything, it’s my given name!” Soldier responded, waving his spatula at Sniper.

“So, wot then, is it like ‘A Boy Named Sue’ sort of thing then?” Sniper asked, pouring two spoonfuls of sugar into Engineer’s coffee. “Yer dad give that to ya t’ try an’ toughen ya up?”

“Negatory,” said Soldier, cracking an egg on the edge of the pan and pouring the yoke onto the skillet. “My mother gave me that name.”

“Yer mum?” Sniper carried the mug and creamer over to the kitchen table and placed it in front of Engineer. “Was that… normal in your family, or…?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your damned business!” Soldier snapped.

“Best not t’ pry, Sniper,” said Engineer, and he took a sip of his coffee. “I’m sure you wouldn’t appreciate it if Jane was askin’ about yer relationship with yer folks.”

“Yeah…” Sniper muttered, and went back to the coffee machine. “Sorry.” He gave a sheepish look to Soldier, who just grunted and went back to frying eggs.

“Vhat is this I am smelling?” Heavy appeared in the doorway, looking as though he were being reeled in by the aroma of frying bacon. “Is delicious!”

“Well, good mornin’ t’ you too, big fella,” Engineer said with a smile. “Is Doc up yet?”

“Not yet.” Heavy stode into the kitchen, pulled out a chair and sat down. “Needs few more minutes. Should be avake soon.”

“A few more minutes?” Soldier echoed. “Jesus, he’s gone soft. What, is he getting too old to get up at the crack of dawn anymore?”

Heavy shrugged. “Has not needed to anymore. Ve are more relaxed now, since contract expire.”

“Relaxed, or lazy?” Soldier asked, looking at Heavy with narrowed eyes.

“Not lazy,” Heavy insisted, crossing his arms and chuckling. “Doktor keeps himself busy vit job.”

Soldier murmured something that sounded like reluctant agreement. He glanced at the frying pan, and then looked to Sniper. “Speaking of laziness, why the hell isn’t Demoman up yet.”

Sniper gave Soldier an odd look. “He’s prolly still hungover,” he said. “You shoutin’ an’ whatnot prolly ain’t helpin’ much.”

“LIKE BLOODY HELL IT AIN’T!” Demoman shouted from the living room. “SHUT YER GOBS, ALL A’ YE!”

For a brief moment, everybody in the kitchen went quiet. Demoman could be heard mumbling to himself from the other room, though the only words that seemed to be audible were “fuck” and “bastards.”

“Poor fella,” said Engineer, shaking his head. “I don’t understand why ya let him do that to himself, Sniper.”

“Oh wot, I’m s’posed t’ stop him?” Sniper asked, pouring another mug of coffee. “That’d be like tryin’ t’ keep a fish away from water.”

“Water don’t hurt a fish,” Engineer reminded Sniper, as the Australian walked over and lowered a mug onto the table in front of Heavy. “It can’t be healthy fer anybody.”

“Guten Morgen, comrades,” Medic yawned, shuffling into the kitchen. He leaned over Heavy and kissed the larger man on the forehead. “Sleep vell, mein lieber?”

“Da,” said Heavy, and he pulled out the chair next to him. “Come, sit down.”

“Danke, Heavy,” Medic said as he took his seat. “Ah you actually preparing breakfast for us, Sir?”

“Name’s Jane,” Sniper said, giving Soldier a smirk behind his back.

“… ‘Jane?’” Medic adjusted his glasses. “Is zat not a voman’s name, Sir?”

Soldier turned to Medic, his brow furrowed. “It’s my name,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Do you have some kind of problem with it?”

“Nein,” said Medic. He cleared his throat. “It is just unusual to me, zat is all.”

“‘Unusual’ is right,” said Heavy with a chuckle. “Vas not expecting Soldier to have voman’s name.”

“Hey now, let’s not pick on ‘im,” Engineer said as he cut into his bacon. “He’s bein’ generous enough to fix breakfast for everybody, y’all should be more grateful.”

“He volunteered for zis?” Medic asked.

“Yes, I did,” said Soldier, turning away briefly from his skillet to address Medic. “Why, is that surprising to you?”

“… Vell, you usually did not volunteer for kitchen duty,” Medic said with a shrug. “But it has been eight years.”

“And in eight years, a man has to learn to make his own meals that aren’t soup or ribs,” Soldier said, scraping the contents of his skillet out of the pan and onto two plates beside him. “So, I learned how to make breakfast.”

“Is good ting to know,” said Heavy, laughing.

“That’s right!” Soldier presented both Heavy and Medic with their own plates. “Breakfast is served.”

“Wot about mine?” Sniper asked, coming over to pour Medic some coffee. “Or Demo’s, fer that matter.”

“Hold your horses, I’m working on it,” Soldier snapped. “But if he wants to eat, he’d better get up off the floor and into the kitchen! I don’t tolerate people lazing about like that.”

Sniper eventually went to go rouse Demoman, who joined the others with much complaining and grumbling. Breakfast was soon prepared for all of them, and the conversation soon picked up. Engineer finished his orange juice, and tapped the side of the glass with his fork.

“May I have yer attention, please, fellas?” He asked, and the chatter died down and gave way to silence. “Thank ya kindly.”

He cleared his throat. “Now, I’m sure y’all are aware that you’ll be headed home today, and I am truly grateful that y’all came from so far away just t’ see me.” He smiled. “I wanted you t’ know that yer all welcome t’ come back any time ya feel like.”

“Zat is certainly a generous offer, Herr Engineer,” said Medic, “zhough, zat vould be quite difficult for Heavy und I, as ve had enough trouble being able to make it heah in ze first place.”

“Funny that you should mention that, Doc,” Engineer said, his smile growing wider. “I did consider that problem, and I have devised a solution so that ya don’t have to go through all that rigmarole just t’ pop in an’ say hello.”

“Wot, d’ya go an’ fix up a teleporter or somesuch fer us?” Sniper asked with a dry laugh.

Engineer turned and stared at Sniper. “Doggone it, Slim, ya went an’ ruined th’ surprise.”

“Engineer still has teleporters?” Heavy asked, sounding excited at the prospect.

“Well, yeah, I do,” said Engineer. “But don’t go blabbin’ on about it. I don’t know if I’m liable t’ git in trouble or not for it.”

“Are you sure zat it is vise to give zese to us?” asked Medic, lacing his fingers.

Long as ya don’t go advertisin’ ‘em, I think we’ll be okay,” said Engineer. “Spah promised he wouldn’t tell nobody, even if he didn’t take one. I gave one t’ Scout already, though.”

Heavy laughed, and Medic looked at him with visible confusion. “Is funny,” Heavy clarified, “because Scout did not use teleporters.”

Soldier rubbed his chin. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t understand why ya haven’t sold those things commercially,” said Sniper. He finished his coffee. “You could make a killing.”

“Already sold th’ patent t’ RED,” Engineer said with a sigh. “So I can’t really do nothin’ with it since they own it. But I thought it’d be nice if I got t’ use it fer it’s intended purpose.”

“Ve vill not tell,” Heavy said, holding up a hand as though taking an oath. “Promise.”

“That’s a relief,” said Engineer with a chuckle. “Thanks, fellas.”

“Don’t think nothin’ of it,” Sniper said with a dismissive wave. “Yer practically like a brother t’ us, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Engineer said, looking down into his now-empty coffee cup.

“Mornin’, Daddy!”

All the men in the kitchen turned their attention to the teenager standing in the doorway. Her hair was damp and her face was fresh.

“Well, hey there, Pumpkin,” said Engineer as Rosie walked around the table and over to him. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough,” Rosie said. She kissed her father on the cheek. “You already made breakfast for everybody?”

“Not me,” Soldier gestured to Soldier. “That’d be him.”

“Oh,” said Rosie, turning her gaze to Soldier. “Well, that was nice of you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome,” Soldier grunted, and nodded at Sniper. “He helped.”

“Oh!” Rosie exclaimed, turning to Sniper as her cheeks turned apple red. “Thank you, Sniper.”

“Eh, I just made th’ coffee,” Sniper said with a shrug. “I don’t even know if you drink coffee.”

“Not really, no,” Rosie admitted, sitting down.

“Not exactly good fer a growin’ girl,” Engineer added.

“I’m done growin’ mostly,” Rosie said, crossing her arms and resting them on the table.

“That’s beside th’ point,” Engineer said, and nudged his daughter with the back of his hand. “Sit up straight, now, you’ve been raised better ‘n that.”

“Sorry,” Rosie mumbled, sitting up straight. She turned to Sniper. “So, are y’all headed back home today, or what?”

“Suppose so,” said Sniper. He looked down into his empty coffee mug.

“They’ll be comin’ back t’ visit, though,” Engineer assured her. “I’ve devised a way fer them t’ visit without th’ long drive, so hopefully we should be seein’ more a’ everybody.”

“Really?” Rosie asked, perking up. She looked at Sniper.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, looking down at the table surface. “I could prolly bring up th’ old lady and me kid.”

“Oh,” said Rosie, her voice going soft. “That’d be nice.” She went quiet as her father started to speak again about how great it was going to be that they’d be seeing each other again regularly. She just cast a glance toward Sniper and felt her face go red. He wasn’t looking at her, but instead focusing on her father as he spoke. She scooted back in her chair and got up to grab whatever hadn’t been eaten yet. She wasn’t sure if she could look him in the eye again, after last night. She could feel her ears burning, turning red like they always did when she was embarrassed. It was a trait she has gotten from her father, and she lingered by the counter until she was sure that her face was no longer hot. Daddy would notice, and that was the last thing she needed right now.

Not now. Not ever.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Zank you so much for giving us a ride, Herr Sniper,” Medic said, as Heavy shoved the last of the teleporter entrances in the back of Sniper’s camper.

“S’no problem at all, mate. Airport’s just outside a’ Austin, anyway.” He leaned against his van on his forearm, and swung one over the other. “Couldn’t very well let ‘Jane’ drive ya back, now could I?”

“I HEARD THAT!” Soldier shouted from the porch.

“Stop pickin’ on ‘im so much, wouldya?” Engineer said, placing his hands on his hips.

“I didn’t mean it mean or nothin’,” Sniper pushed himself off the van and set his foot back on the ground. “Just sayin’ leavin’ him alone with Heavy an’ th’ Doc fer any amount a’ time wouldn’t be too good of an idea.”

“I s’pose I can’t fault ya fer thinkin’ that,” Engineer looked back to Soldier, who was leaning on the porch railing, watching them from a distance. “He’s had it rough, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sniper rubbed the back of his neck and watched Demoman climb into the back of his van.

“Herr Demo, ah you sure you vill be all right back zhere?” Medic asked, looking around the dark, cramped compartment, overstuffed with stacks of boxes and knick-knacks.

“I’ll be fine, quit yer bellyachin’,” Demoman said, waving a dismissive hand at Medic as he stooped so as not to hit the ceiling, and stepped over piles of junk. “Done this loads a’ times.”

“It’s just zat, should ve happen to experience a collision, all of zis…” Medic waved his hand, making a circle in the air as he searched for a word, “… baggage could potentially cause you some serious injury.”

“An’ blowin’ shite up fer a livin’ wouldn’t?” Demoman asked as he laid back on the cot inside. He barked out a laugh. “Yer not me mother, Medic, I’ll be fine. Sniper hasn’t crashed this bloody thing yet.”

“Yet,” Medic emphasized. He sighed. “You ah as stubborn as ever, Herr Demoman.”

“Hey, Demo!” Engineer poked his head inside of the camper. “Y’all take it easy now, y’hear? I don’t wanna be hearin’ anything about any more traffic accidents.”

“I cannae even drive now anyway!” Demoman huffed, and crossed his arms. “Christ, it’s like everyone wants to be me bloody nanny!”

“Just take care a’ yerself,” said Engineer, patting the outside of the van. “Yer welcome t’ drop by whenever ya want.”

“Shore thing, mate,” Demoman got up again and extended a hand to Engineer. “I’ll be seein’ ya then, eh?”

Engineer reached back to grip Demoman’s hand, only to be pulled into a one-armed hug. The Texan smiled, and gave Demoman’s back a few quick pats before they let go of each other, and Engineer stepped back from the van. “Yeah,” he said. “See ya around, pardner.”

Sniper closed the van’s back door as Engineer waved goodbye. “Best be headed out, then,” he said, and looked to Heavy and Medic. “Don’t wanna miss yer flight.”

“Of course,” said Medic with a nod. He turned to Engineer. “Zank you for inviting us to your home, Engineer. It has certainly been...” he hesitated for a moment, looking up as if he were trying to search his own brain for a more delicate way to put it, “… an experience.”

“Not a bad one, I hope,” Engineer said with a laugh.

“Nein, not unpleasant,” Medic agreed. He looked back at the house, to Soldier and Guard Dog watching them from the porch, and Rosie just behind the front screen door. “I had almost forgotten vhat it vas like to have all of us togezzah again.”

“Not all of us,” Heavy interjected. “Pyro is missing.”

“Well, Demoman an’ Sniper said they were gonna find ‘im, and I’m holdin’ them to it,” Engineer said, hands on his hips and his voice bursting with confidence. “Ain’t that right, Sniper?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sniper called out from the driver’s seat. “We’ll bring ‘em back to ya, mate. Piece a’ cake.”

“I’m sure,” Medic said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully with the side of his knuckle. “I’m glad to have been able to see you again, aftah all zese years.” He reached to shake Engineer’s hand.

“Likewise!” Engineer took Medic’s hand and clapped his left hand over it, giving it a firm shake. “Like I said, yer welcome over any ole’ time.”

“And ve vill take you up on zat,” Medic said with a nod as Engineer let go. “Von’t ve, Heavy?”

“Da! Come here, tiny Engineer!” said Heavy, and embraced Engineer, pulling the smaller man into a bear hug.

“Whoa, there, big fella!” Engineer exclaimed, kicking his legs in the air. He let out a nervous laugh as he looked down at the ground and Heavy set him back down on his feet.

“Next time ve come, I bring veapon,” said Heavy, making a gun gesture with his fingers and prodding Engineer in the shoulder. “Ve can shoot them off, for practice. You still have gun?”

“I still got my shotgun an’ pistol,” said Engineer.

“Good. Am getting rusty myself. Have not had chance to practice in long time.”Heavy said with a shrug. “Is ting I miss most about vorking for RED, you know? Fighting vit Sasha.”

“Are you blokes just about ready?” Sniper shouted. He started up the van, and the engine wheezed and sputtered to life.

“Ja, ve ah coming!” Medic called back. He turned to Engineer. “Goodbye, mein freund. Until ve meet again.”

“Until then.” Engineer watched as Medic climbed into the van, helped up by Heavy, much to the doctor’s reluctance. He walked around the other side of Sniper’s van, to the driver’s side, and waved at the Australian.

Sniper turned, and saw Engineer waving at him. He tipped his slouch hat in acknowledgement, and smirked as he let his elbow hang out of his open window. Demoman shouted from the back of the van (“Are we bloody leavin’ or what, Mundy?”), and Sniper shifted the vehicle into drive. Engineer was still waving as the camper rolled off, kicking up dust behind its rolling wheels as it turned onto the main road. Heavy stuck his head and arm out the passenger side window, shouting his last goodbyes. Engineer watched the car fade off into the distance, and turned to walk back to the porch, where Soldier and Guard Dog were waiting.

“Well,” said Engineer, walking up the rickety porch steps. “Jus’ you left now, Jane.”

“Yep,” Soldier responded, not moving.

Guard Dog sat up and wagged his tail as Engineer approached, and was rewarded with a scratch behind his ears. “When are you thinkin’ of heading out?”

“You eager to get rid of me?” Soldier asked, casting a sideways glance at Engineer.

“Not really,” said Engineer. He sidled up beside Soldier, and leaned on the porch railing. “You should know better than to think that of me.”

“Right.” Soldier turned his gaze from the road down to the dusty earth beneath them.

“Yer not lookin’ forward to goin’ back, are ya?” Engineer looked at Soldier.

“I think you know the answer to that,” Soldier said, his voice flat.

“Well, soon as you get back, you can talk to yer brother an’ we can arrange for you to live here,” said Engineer, straightening his posture. “Then you won’t hafta stay there an’ worry about him botherin’ ya.”

“I don’t think he’d let me leave,” Soldier mumbled. “That’s what worries me.”

“Nonsense!” Engineer patted Soldier on the back. “Look, if he gives you any trouble, you give me a call. I’ll go up there an’ reason with him myself. You have my word.”

“Yeah?” Soldier stood up straight and turned to face Engineer, his brow furrowed. “You think he’ll listen to you?”

“He’ll listen if he wants t’ get rid a’ me,” Engineer said. “Trust me. When Pyro’s found, we’ll all be livin’ here together, like family.”

The corner of Soldier’s mouth started to twitch with a nervous energy, until eventually he let it curl into a half-smile. “I owe you for this, Engie.”

“Don’t owe me nothin’,” Engineer said. “That’s what family’s all about.”
Soldier seemed unsure how to react to this. He fidgeted as his body seemed to be coursing with pent-up uncertainty and anxiety. Engineer caught onto this, and stepped back, spreading his arms wide.

“C’mere, you,” he said, gesturing with his fingers for Soldier to come forward.

“I don’t-” Soldier hesitated.

“Aw, don’t gimme that,” Engineer said. “Yer family now, ain’t nothin’ t’ be ashamed of!”
“Well, I…”

Engineer stepped forward and brought Soldier into a strong, solid hug. Soldier tensed at first at the sensation, before letting his muscles relax as he returned the embrace, albeit with his usual stoic, ultra-masculine sense of dignity. He kept his back straight and gave Engineer two pats on the back before grasping the shorter man by the shoulders and pushing him back. He sniffed, and gave Engineer a stiff salute. Engineer, taken aback at first, grinned and returned it.

“Wipe that smile of your face, Private,” Soldier barked.

“Sorry,” said Engineer, lowering his hand. “Can’t be helped.”

Soldier grunted. “Right. Never were one for a military mindset.” He looked down at Guard Dog, who was staring at him, tail wagging and thumping on the wooden slats as it whipped back and forth. “This one on the other hand… Atten-HUT!”

Guard Dog immediately sat upright, in a begging position, staying as still as he possibly could.

“At ease!” Soldier commanded. Guard Dog sat back down and relaxed, mouth open in a dog grin as his tail wagged. “Good boy!” Soldier rubbed Guard Dog’s head. “You see? Obedient and hardworking. Excellent soldier, this one.” He caught a glimpse of something in the screen door, and looked up to see Rosie standing there. Engineer turned to look at her as well.

“You came t’ say goodbye t’ Uncle Jane?” Engineer asked.

“Yeah,” Rosie admitted. “Said goodbye t’ everybody else.” She opened the screen door, and stepped outside, walking up to Soldier. She fiddled with her hands as she met his eyes. “Guess I’ll be seein’ you back here pretty soon.”

“That would seem to be the case,” Soldier said, crossing his arms.

Rosie stood up a little straighter, and put her hands down by her sides. “Goodbye, Mister Jane, Sir.”

Soldier nodded. “Goodbye, Rose,” he said, and turned to walk to his car.

“It’s Rosalie!” Rosie called out back to him.

He turned back to her. Her expression seemed earnest, and she clutched the collar of her shirt. “Rosalie,” he said. He gave a casual salute to her, his hand cutting through the air in a short, crisp arc. “So long, sweetheart.”

Rosie and Engineer watched as Soldier strode over to his car, getting in and starting it up. As he backed up and turned to face out of the driveway, the father and daughter waved, and he sped off, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake. Engineer gave out a wistful sigh.

“Hell of a reunion,” he said.

“Sure was,” said Rosie. She let out a soft giggle. “You comin’ back inside, Daddy?”

“You go on ahead, Pumpkin,” he said, mussing her hair playfully. “I think I’m gonna go work on somethin’ in the garage.”

“You want me to bring you lunch?” Rosie asked.

“That’d be just fine, thank ya.” He kissed his daughter on the cheek. “You got any studyin’ ya need to do?”

“Just a little bit,” she admitted. “I can go do that now.”

“Good girl,” said Engineer. He walked down the porch steps and towards the garage. “If ya need anything, feel free t’ holler!”

“’Kay!” She was already inside the house, and the screen door slammed shut behind her. “Sorry!”

Engineer shook his head. He was now in front of his garage, facing the garage door. The old sentry whirled around to face him, beeped, and the door raised. Engineer walked in and sat at his work desk. The desk itself was cluttered, covered in rolled up blueprints, scattered pencils, notes, tools and a few old photos. Between a few old photographs of his father and his siblings, there was a stuffed bear wearing a pair of overalls, goggles and a tiny hard hat. He picked up the bear, and cradled it in his hand, rubbing his thumb against its plush ear. A hand-drawn card sat next to the space the bear had occupied, and he plucked it up. There was a drawing on it, depicting Engineer in bright crayon, dressed in his old RED uniform. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST DAD IN THE WORLD,” it said in dark blue letters. He opened it, remembering when he first received this letter in the post at Dustbowl. “LOVE, ROSIE.” He closed the card, and set it back in place. He set the bear beside it, adjusting the toy’s posture so that it didn’t slouch over itself. Once satisfied, he picked up one of his white pencils and pulled the latest set of blueprints he had been working on to the center of the desk, rolling them out before him.

It was time to get back to work.

I love it! Thank you so much for posting this!

I squealed with delight that this was posted. Is it really over? Sad. I wanted more.

ALSO,

32“Not me,” Soldier gestured to Soldier. “That’d be him.”
Only error I saw, but it made me laugh for some odd reason.

Gah, this made me tear and smile so much. The characterisations are just about perfect. And I will never look at a toy shovel the same way again.

I was hoping to hear more about Pyro though. It would have made the whole story a true reunion. (Unless you're keeping that for a possible future chapter...?)

A sequel is in order, Cat.

http://dotchan.com/?p=1876

Reunion is now up on Dotchan.com with corrections.

http://i762.photobucket.com/albums/xx263/CatBountry/000pq1fh.png

And now there's a poster for it.

By Anadapta on Hipstr.

That's amazing!

We need a sequel! I must know what happens with Pyro!

Yes, please!

I just finished this, and I love how you made Soldier. And Sniper. And Engie. Well, pretty much everyone.

After reading Cat Bountry's other stories, I think I'd like a sequel about Heavy and Medic just living. How being a pediatrician (I just don't care about spelling) is working out, them adopting, heck, even KOOKY SHENANIGANS would be a good contrast to them dying horribly or living a lie.
I do love Cat Bountry, but I think I need fluff. Maybe a webcomic, guys!

>>43

I might write some more with them, but if somebody else wants to they're free to go ahead.

>>43

I have been thinking about these very same things for MONTHS now! Please someone write it up!

Also, Cat Bountry, this is by far one of the most epically written things of the entire internet. I love everything about it. Thank you for writing such a beautiful fanfic.

Such gorgeous, strong characterisations in this story. I loved their interactions with each other, and I especially loved Rosie's crush on Sniper, and well, her character as a whole. The lives fabricated for all of them are believable and well envisioned.

A sequel detailing how Sniper and Demo try and find Pyro would be awesome.

I just read this after seeing an art thingie for it, and I like it a lot. My Engie is similar to your Engie, and liked how the woman both we're pretty strong characters. Hell, I think your story passes the Bechel test, at least partially!

Very good writing, I was a little disappointed that there was no resolution with Pyro though. I get that they're probably off to find him anyway, but someday I would enjoy that to be resolved.

Either way, real good.

Is it just me, or did you set up this story perfectly so that Engi and Solider will become the two guys helping each other raise Rose? OH THE IRONY! Jane has become what he hates! Perfect. ;) I'm so HAPPY to hear there will be more!

Someone save Pyro!

holy carp, this needs a sequel with Spy meeting up with Sniper and Demo in New York to go look for Pyro.

I read this grinning the entire fic

Would I be the only one to say that my favorite part from Respawn of the Dead was the school boy flirting Spy x clueless Engiee? Cause if that finds it's way into Reunion I would be MOST pleased.

Hole-lee crap, man. I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning reading this and it was worth it. The characterization was perfect, the situations were all heart-gripping and realistic, and it all just felt so human. I love the universe created in this and would indeed love to read more from it, if anyone were to write it.
Excellent job, Bountry, and thanks for sharing this!

Hey Cat Bountry, just asking because I check every day, maybe 20 times a day for some kind of update, but are you working on part 2 now, or just thinking about it, or just getting started or yadda yadda. Please save me from my own insanity as I am literally too excited for the squeal.

>>52

I've started the first part in a series of stories that will take place after Reunion over the course of the years afterwards.

They'll be much shorter and I'll put all of them in their own thread.

looking forward to it!

Glad to hear that! Now I can stop going crazy. Well, until you update that is. Can't wait.
Oh, and thanks for making me rewatch Misery this week. I forgot how much I loved that movie.