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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 7 years

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TF2 Fic: Responsibility Weighs More Than Dog Tags

...so, I started writing an idea before last Halloween, intended to be posted on the day. Except I lost my spark of creativity for a while... therefore there’s been three unedited chapters of what’s going to be a long-ass fic, floating about on my computer since then. Here is chapter one of a kid-merc fic. Soon to be edited and completed.

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Chapter 1: Dear Ma, I regret Everything I’ve Ever Done…

In every facet of his life, Scout could honestly say that some form of absolute chaos was the norm. That wasn’t even bein’ dramatic, it was stating a fact, plain an’ simple. At first, the runner found himself one of seven boys born to a woman with an iron-clad constitution, and the ability to quell their shenanigans with a single gesture.

Now? He’s one of nine skilled mercenaries; surrounded day and night by men from all walks of life, who are way crazier than he’ll ever freaking be. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

Easier ta think you’re the pinnacle of mental health about these parts when compared against a guy who throws his piss at people for laughs, a dude who never takes off his balaclava even when showering, a medical professional who lets his freaking pets play in the patients, and a certain military-minded someone who uses a fuckin’ rocket launcher for transport.

But that’s the thing, ain’t it? It’s one thing to be a faction of the entropy, to feast on the chaos swirling around -embody one of the deadly sins if ya wanted to get all met-a-phorical and shit- but it’s something else entirely ta be the poor sucker tryin’ ta control it.

He has no idea whatsoever how his Ma did it all those years; with the lot of her rag-tag rebellious boys and their crazy ways. To be honest, he’d downright sell his soul fer an insight inta how she’d done it all’a this time; but he can’t, pretty sure the confidentiality clause in the contract Miss P had’em all sign right at the beginning covered even these weird-as-hell events.

Looks like he was just gonna have ta deal with this by himself.

Something exploded two feet from the runner’s left ear, shattering a wall and setting nearby furniture on fire; forcing the young man to jerk his head from the cradle of his hands, and glare across the table at the current cause of the chaos. A handful of his teammates glared back, some wearing expressions of innocence, and others grinned in unbridled glee at the destruction.

With a sigh of exasperated frustration, Scout slams his hands on the table and shoves his seat out as he stands. “Alright, an’ I can’t freakin’ believe these words’a comin outta my mouth right now just so ya know, I’m givin’ ya ten seconds ta own up ta nearly blasting me through respawn for the third time ta-day, or ya all going on time-out.”

He crosses his arms, making a vague note that he needs to switch out the bandages at some point, because there’s an alarming amount of jam smeared across the back of his right hand.

They ain’t budging. The Scout shoves down a smirk and adopts the most serious frown he can muster given the circumstances; he can’t quite go ‘full Medic’ when it comes ta disappointed faces, but he’s somewhere close on the spectrum.

“Alright, ya asked fer it…” He sighs. “Ten… Nine… Eight…”

The way the present classes scrabbled in panic was sorta, how would Spy put it? Delicious, maybe? Hilarious, too.

“Seven… Six… Five, I ain’t kidding, y’better fess up soon guys… Four…”

Somehow he kept up a stern expression as fingers started pointin’ every which way, firing blame like this was a Sudden Death match fer a new hat drop, and friendly fire was off. Yeah, just like home, then.

“Three… Two… One an’ three-quarters… One ‘n a half… One ‘n a quarter…”

Soldier leapt forwards, nearly taking out Demo, who’d been helping him hold the incriminating launcher steady while firing. “I FIRED AT YOU FOR THE SAKE OF AMERICA… AND COOKIES!”

“Oh really? Cookies, huh? Ya know who gets ‘em?” he asks, smugly, at their confused expressions. “People who don’t go firing freakin’ weapons at their teammates, chucklenu-... er, trucks. And maybe if yer gimme the bazooka, ‘n go wash yer hands, we’ll talk about cookies fer dessert, alright?”

Never before in living memory had one of the REDs relinquished control of one of their weapons so fast, even ta a teammate. Demo and Solly racing one another outta the room to wash their hands… anything ta get one of the cookies Scout’s Ma’d sent that mornin’ in the mail. Heh, she’d made ‘em inta little ghosts ‘n shit, tryin’ ta be ‘spooky’ ta fit in with the whole Halloween theme’a things. Ironic, really, considerin’ that was half the reason this crazy shit was going down.

But on the other hand, they were excellent fer coercin’ ya team inta completin’ tasks that needed doing.

RED Scout didn’t even get ta blink before the twin terrors were back infront’a him, hands out fer inspection ta show that yeah, they were definitely clean.

“Ya promise not ta blow anymore shi-... er, stuff up?” He asks, heading to the kitchen to grab the jar of baked goods the rest’a the team were hankering after.

“WE PROMISE NOT TO USE THE ROCKET LAUNCHER AGAIN!” shouted Solly, saluting. Demo copying, trying not ta giggle as the pair shot suspicious looks between ‘em.

Scout paused. “Oi, y’might think yer being clever, but ‘m not an idiot guys. There were seven of us at home, y’think I can’t see the loophole in that statement… think again. Promise ya won’t go snatchin’ up the weapons I took away from ya ta keep ya idiots safe, an’ ya can have a freakin’ cookie.”

“Oh aye, we promise al’right?” grumbles the Demo, glaring with his one good eye.

Not being a complete fool, Scout knows the two’re gonna find a way around the whole ‘Don’t Blow Shit Up’ rule, but hey, he’ll burn that bridge when they get ta it. Or, y’know, however that saying goes.

“Yeah, fine, good enough fer now. Ya can have one,” he stresses the word, while offering the jar to ‘em. “But don’t go runnin’ off, ‘cause it’s almost dinner, an’ if I have ta come catch ya, it ain’t gonna be fun fer any of us.”

The pair nod solemnly, and it’s real hard to take ‘em serious when Solly’s helmet falls over his eyes like that. If only Spy hadn’t stolen his camera last week, this could be freakin’ hilarious blackmail.

An’ also proof it happened. Y’know, for when he managed ta change’em back ta normal.

Fuckin’ Merasmus.

-)0(-

TBC.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #RED #Scout #kidfic bc it's hilarious #merasmus #halloween #demo #solly #all the others eventually #god you should read the plot-story I wrote for this it's pretty funny and I hope I can capture it in the actual story #long post

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