I made a headcanon about Scout and Spy both having EDS, soooo here's a fic i wrote expanding on it a touch. Warning for some internalized abliesm but it's dealt with pretty quickly
WC: 1k
MannCo recently sent a shipment of a variety of things: food, weapons, ammo, and a large roll of tape which Scout ordered specially for himself. It was sticky, and would look very similar to his skin-- the perfect thing to hide his slippery joints with.
He went to look through the boxes the moment he heard that the truck left. It had to be in there, and he had to get it before anyone found out. There was no way he'd be allowed to stay on the team in this sort of condition!
With a little searching, he found the right box. It was marked in large, egregious letters, "DISABILITY STUFF". He cringed at how the words glared up at him, practically shouting out to the world how 'broken' he was.
Broken or not, he needed the help, so he dug into the box-- with the help of a pocket knife. Though, what he found wasn't just his tape. There were braces of various kinds, pairs of glasses, and several bottles of what he assumed were medication.
He was dumbfounded, and at the same time wanted to kick himself-- of course his other teammates were also disabled. Medic needed glasses, Pyro needed stuff for their burn scars, Demo only had one eye for gods sake! Had he really just not considered that at all?
Really thinking about it as he dug through the boxes to find his tape, he realized that, no, he'd never thought of his team as disabled-- and they probably didn't either. They were just living life and had found things to work around whatever they were struggling with.
Underneath a sort of brace he'd never seen before lie his tape. It was a massive roll, far larger than what he'd ever used before, maybe as wide across the circle as his forearm?
With new complaints from his hips starting up, he abandoned the boxes and got to work 'fixing his life with duct tape'.
Under the dim light in the bathroom-- jeez, they really need to change that bulb out sometime-- he was able to put down some strips of tape where he felt it was needed most at the moment. Two strips starting just above his hip and trailing down to his inner thighs already helped so much. But with that out of the way, he started on his knees-- he made a sort of x shape from a little above his knee to the side of his calf with a strip of tape for each side, for each leg.
"Thank fuck, my joints are actually jointing now--" he muttered before bumping into Spy.
"Merde, what are you doing up at this hour?"
"I should ask ya the same thing."
"If you must know I'm looking for my new brace. Medic suggested it specially for my Ehlors-Danlos. Tell no one. Please."
"Oh hey, I have that same problem! Yeah, my joints are all wonky, I basically tape em together."
He winced in a way that was almost unnoticeable.
"Somethin' wrong?"
"No, nothing."
"Alright then. Make sure you get some sleep for your old bones then!"
It hit him in the face when he woke up, Ehlors-Danlos is inherited... They'd be around the same age, right? 26 and late-40s, early 50s. It's not unreasonable. He would've been... Somewhere between his age and somewhat younger.
It's not... uncommon for someone to have a kid at that age.
And there were other things too, other things that were shared between them. Their faces were incredibly similar, now that the thought about it-- one thing that the Director's visit helped with.
Something his Ma talked about once or twice came into the mental conversation with a steel chair-- his dad was french. Like, it was significant enough to warrant having a favorite french thing to watch on tv.
Damn, stuff like this had him feeling like an idiot for never noticing.
"But, what about Tom Jones--" he muttered to himself, "No. No wait. Hang on." He cursed loudly, remembering that Spy can use disguises.
That warranted a knock on the door from Engineer, "Everythin' alright in there?"
"Spy's my dad."
"Huh?"
"Spy, the 10,000-euro-suit-wearing asshole, is my dad."
"Have you... Considered talking to him about this, perhaps?" The voice that came out of that mouth was patiently off, too French for Engineer's Texas background.
"Your accent is slipping."
In a cloud of smoke, Spy dropped the disguise. "You caught me."
"So you admit it? You're my dad-- how freakin' long did you know?"
"About a year after you joined the team."
"Y'know the hell of it all? I can't even blame you, it's not like you were there most of the time. Didn't even get you for the big moments."
"I am sorry, I couldn't be around in ways you were aware of-- it would have put you in more danger than it was worth." his gaze moved downwards with his frown, "The few times I was able to, I had to be invisible. I didn't want you to become entangled in any of this."
He held back the insult, thinking better than to kick a man while he's down. "I'm still angry, but.. I guess it's at least good to know. Thank you."
Silence hung in the air for the next few seconds, not quite tense, not quite calm, but a third unknown thing. Spy broke the silence, "Do you want to see what I use for my joints?"
"Sure, maybe I can teach ya something."
"Don't get too cocky, I don't see anything you can teach me when it comes to your post-battle scores," he took a gulp of his cup of coffee.
"Oh you ass. Hey, why'd you dress up as Engineer by the way, you planning on taking him out sometime?"
"Who's to say I'm planning?"
"Well damn-- does this mean I'm getting an extra parent out of this?"
He choked, taking a few seconds to regain his breath, "You heard nothing."
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