|The Sniper and the Scapegrace
Author: The-Great-Catsby PM
The Sniper is a simple man. He had simple clothes, a simple life, and a simple job: Just aim and shoot. But the Scout is really good at making his love-life anything but simple. Slash. Sniper/Scout. Multi-chap.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - Sniper & Scout - Words: 2,749 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 24 - Follows: 24 - Published: 04-21-10 - id: 5913901
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Summary: The Sniper is a simple man. He had simple clothes, a simple life, and a simple job: Just aim and shoot. But the Scout is really good at making his love-life anything but simple. Slash. Sniper/Scout. Multi-chap.
Disclaimer: I dont own TF2. I just got bored (and hungry) while watching an Outback commercial and this thing happened.
The Sniper liked moments like this, crouched under the window to his vantage point. He could here the firing of a RED Heavy just a few feet below him, and he could hear the RED team's Medic trailing behind the fat piker. He could hear the enemy Demo cursing drunkenly at him from the floor right below. He had been shooting bombs at him for the past thirty minutes with little luck.
Snipes leaned back against the wall and took out his machete and laid in on the floor next to his leg. Not much good his trusty Ruger M77 would do him strapped to his back if he needed to fight a spy at point-blank range.
The Engineer's sentry was doing a great job at keeping the RED's off the front wall of 2FORT, and far away from the Sniper. He was just allowing himself a short reprieve from shooting at the slow-moving Heavy, Medic, Pyro, and enemy Engineers all day.
"BLU and RED musta' been high off their britches ta' be making their bases this damn close togetha'." The Sniper groaned to himself while taking a swig of water from a deep blue canteen he usually kept at his feet.
"Tell me about it, Snipes." A young male voice said as the speaker slid next to the Sniper, kicking up the dust left on the floor. True baseball pro, that one.
"G'day Scout, You're looking horribly chipper."
"Ughh, I wish." The Sniper sent him an inquisitive look. "There's a hole in mah' leg tellin' me otherwise."
"Ya' got shot, mate?"
The scout let out a little chuckle. "Well, I didn't check, Y'know? I was too busy runnin' so I wouldn't get shot again. "
"I guess you got a point there, Lemme' take a look atcha'." The Sniper motioned for the Scout to hold out his leg, and he did as was told. cout was te proud new owner of a shell lodged just slightly under the skin. The boy was lucky it didn't go that deep. "That's not good. Lemme' getcha' to the supply room."
"You dun' have ta'. I aint'cha ya'responsibilty. " The Scout mummured, looking away. "Thanks anyway, dawg."
"Nonsense! It would be my honor, mate." The Sniper replied happily. "Come'on." He grabbed the scout's hand and stood to his feet.
The Scout let out a silent little gasp, and his eyes widened. He yanked the larger man down with all his strength and the Sniper came crashing down violently on top of him just as a shell pierced the wall right behind where his head had been just a few moments before.
"The other team's got Sniper's too ya' chuckle head!" The Scout yelled, his face covered in what was a mixture of anger and worry. Which was actually pretty flattering. "Jeez, Any longer and you'da been dead, Snipes. " He wiped a thin trickle of sweat of his brow.
The Sniper had never noticed before, but the Scout was actually very...pretty rather then what anyone would call rugged good looks. He had the rough-and-tough Boston accent down, but he was still just a few years out of his teens and he had a delicate featured face: Little button nose, nice big blue eyes the color of rivers, and kissable lips. The Sniper didn't want to kiss them per say, but he could imagine why someone else might.
"Now I would really feel bad if I didn't getcha' help for your leg." He looked around the side of the window and saw that the RED-clad Sniper was intently focused on the left of the front wall. "We can crawl that way, That RED piker wont notice a thing."
"Wot? You dun' trust me?"
"Nah, I do."
"Then come on. Ya' could be bleedin' out as we speak." The Scout nodded and pulled his scattergun out from his bag. The Sniper idly noted the crimson stain leaking from his right thigh.
The Scout started to crawl on all fours to the right before hearing the Sniper whisper harshly again. "Be quick about it, mate." The enemy Sniper looked around for the two, and just as he noticed them and the red dot hitting at their midsections they were rounding the corner and out of reach of his deadly scope.
The Scout was out of breath and panting, which was odd seeing as they only moved about four feet. Continuing their crawling until the Sniper's hand met something wet with the astringent smell of metal. It was blood, or namely, the Scout's.
"Aw, mate. Ya' gettin' blood everywhere."
"Sorry pal." He said without much conviction.
"No problem, 'ere let me help ya'." The sniper stood to his feet once he noted that the coast was clear. He hoisted the boy up who proceeded to collapse onto the man's chest.
"Sorry 'bout that." He groaned. "I'm a bit dizzy." He took a few steps away from him but held steadfastly to the Australian's shoulder.
"S'fine." The older man was glad the Scout' eyes were focused on the floor. Snipes was blushing madly. He didn't know what it was, something about the younger boy needing him for anything, even if it was because he couldn't stand on his own.
The Sniper led the wobbly boy to the supply room. On the way they passed the Engineer toiling away on a sentry with rhythmic whacks with a wrench that was beeping incessantly. The Sentry noticed the pair first, it's head swiveling on it's socket. But after noticing their BLU uniforms the machine lost interest and went back to its rounds. The engineer noticed and peeked his head and the corner.
"Hey fellas." The hard-hat said in his comforting country drawl. Sniper noticed his acoustic lying up against the side of the steps and he wondered if this was how he had been wasting his time. "Geez, Scout. You look worse then my aunt Agnes in the summer. "He laughed to himself. "It's not pretty."
"M'shot." The Scout grumbled, and the Sniper could've swore he heard the phantom ", Ya' asshole" attached to the end.
"Ya' know where the good doctor is?" The Sniper interrupted as the Scout leaned in further onto the Australian man's shoulder. He noticed that the scouts leg brushed against his own, and once he got past the flutters in the base of his stomach, he noted that he had left a smear of blood on his pants leg.
"I havent seen him all day, I think-" The Engineer looked thoughtful for a few moments. "I saw him with the Heavy this mornin' though."
The Sniper nodded, "Ya' think you could go down ta' the radio, and call him? Maybe tell the Administrator that the Scout and I are gonna' take an' early break."
"Sure thing, I'm not sure the Administrator's gonna' be too pleased though." At the Sniper's confused stare he continued. "We're not gonna' be able to make a play for the intelligence without you two. She might even call off the operations for the rest of the day."
"If we could be so lucky." Scout grumbled against the Sniper's shoulder.
"Hey man, the boy's not looking too good. I'd keep moving if I were ya'll." The Engineer moved down the stairs so he was out of their way.
"Thanks, Mate." The Sniper took a few steps forward, still sopporting the Scout. His knees buckled underneath him and he stumbled forward and into the much stronger arms of the huntsman.
"Can'ya walk?" The Sniper asked gently, a bit wary of the Engineer who had just made his way down the stairs and around the corner in the general direction of the base's radio center.
"M'fine, Snipes. Jeez..." The Scout ground out. Sniper shrugged and continued walking and the boy tripped again, his knees buckling beneath his not so imposing body .
"Here, Lemme' help." He reached a hand to his waist to help hold him up. The boy shook it off and lurched away from him. "It's going ta' take us a year to get down the blasted stairs, ya' keep it up."
"It's not like I'm tryin' to, awright?!" The Scout yelled at him. "God, Just go back ta' ya' snipin' or something." The Scout seemed truly pathetic, and the sniper wasn't sure if it suited the kid at all. The speedster used the wall for support as he tried to limp away from the Sniper.
"Kid, ya' got that kicked puppy look down pat. Now are ya' gonna let me help ya', or what?" The Scout looked back at him, blue eyes shining.
The trip down the stairs was the trickiest. Scout's right leg was completely useless, and he was whining constantly. After the fourth time the Scout had -almost- fallen over to the floor, the Sniper had picked him up into his arms bridal style.
"Pu'me down!" The Bostonian flailed horribly, almost hitting the Sniper in the eye.
"Ey, Calm down, Scout. We're almost there." The Sniper tried to appease the mopey kid in blue. Again with the kicked puppy look. "Stop hittin' me, goddamn it."
"I aint' gonna' be carried around like a lil' girl!" He whined.
"Then stop actin' like one, mate!"
They reached the automatic door of the supply room and entered into the blinding white. As always it was fully stocked. Ammo, metal, and a wide array of first-aid supplies.
Snipes carried Scout over to a bench and laid him down on his back. Sniper was fairly happy when the Scout grabbed harshly at his shoulders to steady himself.
Sniper remained hovering over the boy for a few moments after the Scout had let him go.
"Where didja' get hit?" He whispered. The Scout trailed his right hand up his leg until he winced as his fingers brushed over the entrance site of the bullet. "Here." He mumbled.
Snipes reached into a back pocket and extracted a Swiss army knife. The lad's pants were baggy, but he was extra careful as he pushed the knife through the khaki fabric high up on the boy's thigh.
"Woah, Whadda' ya' doin'?" he cried, lurching away from the sharpshooter. The little blade just barely missed his skin.
"Hold still 'ya Sheila! I've gotta' see what I'm doing." Snipes chastised. He held up the little red cased knife. "Do ya' want me ta' stab ya'?"
"We ain't waitin' for the doc'? We oughtta' wait for the Doc!" The boy growled out.
The Aussie let out a long sigh "You think we got that kinda' time?" He explained. "We don't even know where he is!"
"No, but-" He looked around the room expectantly, his eyes finally resting on the Sniper. Snipes had taken his yellow tinted sunglasses off earlier and the Scout noted that this was the very first time he had ever seen the man's eyes. They were a light grey color and very pale. They contrasted nicely with his tan.
The Sniper noticed the little scapegrace staring at him. "Ya' still dont trust me?"
"I do-!" He snapped. "I just-"
"What is it?"
"Nah- Course not."
"You've never been shot?"
" 'Course I have." He shrugged
"Then what's the problem 'ya larrikin?"
"Nothin' man, Just hurry up. I'm startin' ta' lose feelin' in my foot." Scout growled out.
"Sure thin', Mate."
He inserted the blade back through the hole in his cargo-pants and finished cutting all the way around. He pulled off the mangled pants leg off the boy and un-tucked it from his knee-high socks. Tossing it to the floor he turned his attention back to the runner's leg. The boy was deceptively thin and pale skinned with the slightest glow from the sun. Snipes went over to the supply cabinet and retrieved the strong smelling antiseptic, cotton swabs, bandages, and a stitch kit.
"Gonna' sting a bit." Snipes murmured as he dumped some of the rubbing alcohol over the swabs and some over his fingers. The disinfectant burned at his callouses and hangnails.
He touched the cotton to the boys leg and he jerked back with a groan. His firm grip latched to the sniper's arm, his knuckles going white and his stubby nails scratching at the Sniper's skin.
"Ow-" Scout writhed on the bench. "That hurts-!"
Snipes chuckled. "Is it any worse then gettin' ya'self shot, mate?"
"It's gettin' there-" His leg lurched away from the offending, foul smelling liquid. "Awww, fuuuck-!"
Sniper reached trained fingers into the first-aid kit and extracted from within a pair of shiny surgical tweezers. Lowering them to the wounded appendage he let his hand hover above the Scout's leg.
He dipped the tweezers past the first thin mangled layer of skin, bloodied and open. A strangled cry escaped the boy's lips, worse then the hiss of a cat. "Agghhh-!" Sniper didn't think it was possible but his hand clenched around is arm harder like a vice grip.
The tweezers found their way to the carmine stained bullet easily enough, it was just being steady enough to get a firm hold on it with all of the Scout's twinging and violent spasms.
"Almost there-" The sniper cooed to the groaning boy jerking about on the uncomfortable wooden shower benches. The tweezers got hold of the bullet around the sides and he removed it, blood still dripping from the damned thing as he tossed it to the floor.
"Was that it?" The Scout asked in regards to the little tube swimming in little puddles of hemoglobin on the floor. "Tiny lil' shit."
The Free-runner tried to make a move to sit up but was pushed back down again by the Sniper. "Still gotta' stitch 'ya up, Mate. Cant 'ave 'ya walkin' about like Swiss cheese."
"Ha-ha. Snipe's likes taa' make jokes." Scout rolled his blue-blue-blue eyes.
"Just'a few more minutes."
Ten butterfly stitches and thirty or so "Ay, god damn it, that hurts!" later the Scout was just about done. The Sniper's deft fingers unwound the gauze and wrapped it over the freshly sewn wound.
Taping down the ends and adding the finishing touches and then the Scout was done.
"That it?" The boy asked, hopeful.
"Mhhh-hmmm." The Sniper grunted. He had never been such a big fan of blood. One of the perks of being a Sniper is that your too far away to see the gore you create.
"You's a damn fine doctor, y'know?"The Scout laughed. "You eva' consider a career change?"
"-And miss all the action, mate? Where's the fun in that?"
"Ya' gotta' point."
The Sniper guessed, if he had to make friends, then the Scout wouldn't be that bad to get to know better.
Only if he had to, mind you.
Well, a first chapter done. Its probably not going to be much more then another two chapters. I just started writing on a whim. Thanks for taking the time to get this far, why not go the extra mile and review it? I would very much appreciate any feedback. I tried to keep characters IN character, but sometimes things like that get away from me. The accents were a truly horrible thing to get a handle on, and in my head they sound exactly alike.
I was amazed that there was only one Sniper/Scout story, but yet so many pictures. So I'm glad to be contributing. I was greatly inspired by Kal-Bane's story. It's a hard-core PWP, but with a solid backstory and sophisticated-realistic style of writing.
Till next time,