RED Bread, 1971

Scout sat leaning back in a chair as he bounced a baseball off a wall repeatedly, catching it every time it bounced back. The entire time as he rocked on the chair, he sat grumbling nonsensically. He was distracted from this activity with the sound of the door creaking and a telltale puff of cigarette smoke filling the air. Sure enough, a familiar French man spoke.

"Still upset about being dumped, I see." The voice said. Scout let the two legs of his chair that hung in the air to fall back down and he threw the baseball blindly.

"Go to hell, Spy." He said angrily. He heard the ball land and roll down the hall outside his room. "Miss Pauling and I are taking a break, alright? She's married to the job so we're just giving it a rest."

"Spare me. I didn't come to listen to your self pity. We have a situation." Spy said. Scout rose to his feet angrily and turned to face the sharply dressed Frenchman. The red suit and the dark red balaclava gave very little of the Spy away and Scout wished he knew what Spy looked like so he could better envision punching his face.

"Screw you. What kind of situation? Is it the BLU's?" He asked. Spy shook his head.

"The engineer and medic were running some experiments with the teleporter again. It's acting strange, they want everybody on standby in case they create another bread monster." Spy explained. Scout rolled his eyes.

"Uh, yeah, that is big news. Hey, wasn't it Soldier who made that thing by teleporting bread for three days straight?" Scout asked. Spy nodded. "I think we'll be fine, our two esteemed scientists know better."

"Scout, this is not a negotiation." Spy said sternly. "Come with me now."

"Alright, alright, get off my damn back, jeez." Scout said. He walked over to his bed and picked up the baseball bat that rested beside it. He looked around, saw his pistol in its holster on the bedside table. He grabbed it and put on the holster. He glanced around the room. "Ah, my shotgun is..."

"You left it in the training gym, Soldier retrieved it for you." Spy said.

"Oh, great, that guy. Hey, is he still obsessing over that bucket?" Scout asked. Spy rolled his eyes.

"Come on." He said. Spy turned on his heel and as he took a long drag on his cigarette, he muttered something angrily in French. Spy left and Scout followed him.


Des Moines International Airport, Iowa, April 9 2076

Sir Charles Chaplin stood in the airport having just gotten off his plane from Britain. He was currently going through customs and several people were ahead of him in line. He sighed. Checking his watch, he tapped his left thumb against his cane repeatedly to pass the time. After what seemed like an eternity, he was the next in line to go through a metal detector. He walked through and the machine made no noise. However, his briefcase did cause a commotion as it went through a smaller metal detector. The machine beeped loudly and often and a large, burly security guard stepped forward.

"What's going on?" The guard demanded. Charles smiled.

"My briefcase. I can explain, hand it to me please." He said. The guard frowned and picked up the briefcase.

"I think I'll check it myself, limey." The guard said. Charles raised his right hand and shrugged as he leaned on his cane. "What's the cane for?"

"As you wish. And the cane is to help me walk. Old war wound." He said. The guard opened up the case and began searching through it. He pulled out a glass case containing Charles' medals. The guard raised an eyebrow.

"What are these?" He asked. Charles frowned.

"What do they look like? My service medals, from the British Army. Is that all?" He queried. The guard shook his head.

"Gotta be sure, bud. Hold on." The guard explained. He set the medals aside and continued searching. "Hello, what's this then?" He said, pulling out a pistol. The guard glared at Charles. "Explain, fast."

"My old service pistol. I keep it as a memento of my days fighting in the Omnic Crisis. It's quite harmless, I assure you. I carry no ammunition and the firing pin is safe at my home in Kent. Nobody will be shot by that gun any time soon." Charles said. The guard began to remove pieces of the weapon to check this story. After he had almost completely stripped the gun, he nodded in satisfaction and began putting it back together.

"Alright, fine. How'd you get that through customs in Britain, anyway?" The guard asked. Charles shrugged.

"I told them what I told you. I doubt it would've passed muster had I not had friends in that airport, however. Gun laws are stricter over there. So, lad, are you going to be arresting me?" Charles said. The guard shook his head.

"Not unless I find something else in that case of yours." He said. He placed the pistol aside and began searching. After a couple minutes, he nodded with satisfaction and replaced everything he had taken out, closing the briefcase and handing it to Charles.

"Thank you." Charles said, taking it.

"No problem. Stay out of trouble while you're in Des Moines, alright?" The guard said.

"Not to worry, I won't be staying long. I'm bound for Marion." Charles said pleasantly.

"Alright, I'll expand that to 'stay out of trouble while you're in the states.' How's that for you?" The guard told him.

"Absolutely fine. Good day." Charles said, nodding and walking off. Ten minutes later, he was outside the airport and looking around. He saw a taxi driving past and he raised up his hand, yelling for it. The yellow vehicle pulled to a halt beside him, the car humming as it propelled itself above the ground. Charles opened the door and got in, placing his briefcase on the chair next to him, holding his cane between his legs and buckling in.

"Hello." He said to the driver.

"Hey. Where to, buddy?" The driver asked.

"Well, that depends. Are you prepared to drive to another city?" Charles asked.

"Eh, depends on the city and how much you're willing to pay." The driver responded.

"To Marion. As for payment, I'll pay whatever it costs, not to worry." He said.

"OK, I can do Marion. Hope you like folk music, it's a long drive." The driver said, turning up the volume on his radio and setting off.


RED Bread, 1971

As Scout walked into the main rec room following Spy, he was unable to take the scene in as Soldier stormed over to him and thrust Scout's shotgun into his arms. Scout stumbled a little.

"Gee, thanks." He said.

"Do not leave your weaponry lying around again, soldier." Soldier growled. Scout set his gun down on a table and straightened his cap.

"Uh, sure. You're the soldier, not me." Scout said. Soldier glared at him from under his helmet, standing straight-backed and towering over the slouching frame of Scout.

"Not an excuse for laziness, son. Those BLU team ladies could attack at any moment, we have to maintain constant vigilance!" Soldier proclaimed.

"Very nice, buddy. I'll definitely bear that in mind." Scout said, smirking.

"If you two are quite done," Came the thick accent of the Medic. "We would like to show you all our new project!" Scout and Soldier looked to the side and saw the Engineer and Medic staring disapprovingly at them. Also in the room stood the rest of the team of mercenaries. Spy leaned against the wall, lighting up a cigarette, the Heavy sat eating a sandwich, the Demoman was drinking whisky and the Sniper leaned against a wall, waiting. The Pyro sat, arms folded, watching intently.

"Yeah, we're done." Scout said.

"Wunderbar. Herr Conagher, you have their attention." Medic said. The Engineer nodded and opened his mouth to speak before the Scout interrupted.

"Yeah, hold up. Conagher? What the hell is a Conagher?" Scout asked. The Engineer frowned.

"My last name, Scout." He explained.

"Woah, you guys actually have names? Huh, isn't that weird? Wait, what's your first name?" Scout asked.

"Dell. Now, if you're quite done there, Scout? We've been running some experiments on the teleporter again. Not like that bread stuff, ain't no tumours to worry about. Now, recently I've been putting some experimental bits on the teleporter, tryin' to juice it up a little, see how I can improve on the design." He said.

"So, what? Why did this need the entire team? Ya juiced up the teleporter, good job." Scout asked.

"Well, y'see, that's where it gets a little complicated. Now, we've been sending some small items through the teleporter. Only problem is, we don't know where it's going. None of it's showing up on the other teleporter we have set up and when we tried sending it through that one, they didn't turn up here." Dell explained.

"And this means what?" Scout asked. He heard a groan from Heavy.

"Scout, if you interrupt him one more time, I will strangle you." Heavy said, the burly Russian scowling.

"Hey, hold up there, brother, it's an honest question." Scout said. Heavy growled and began to rise and Dell moved forward hastily, chuckling and raising his hands.

"No need to get worked up, boys, he's just asking a question. It means we want to find out what this upgrade does and as the doc told me, the best way to find out is to experience it for yourself. So we're going through the teleporter." Dell said.

"But we don't know where it goes." Scout said. "We could die."

"Naw, it ain't that bad. I may have screwed up the upgrades but not so badly that we'll die. Somebody's gonna go in first and radio us here to say where we are. If they're out of range or just can't contact us, we'll all go in." He explained.

"Now, this plan may sound unnecessarily daring, but it should be well worth it, my friends." Medic interjected, smiling and straightening his glasses.

"Mate, that's bloody insane." Sniper cut in. "You expect us to just hop in the teleporter that could lead anywhere and if we don't get any response, the rest of us follow?"

"Ja. Who's first? Any volunteers?" Medic said, grinning. Sniper shrugged and shook his head. After a moment, the Pyro stood up. Everybody shot him a furtive glance, expecting something bad. Pyro said nothing, it merely picked up its flamethrower and walked over to the teleporter. It nodded to Dell and the engineer hastily walked over to it. He began tinkering with the machine on the ground until it lit up and the familiar red lights above it began glowing. Without waiting for Dell to fetch a radio, Pyro stepped on it. It was spun around rapidly before vanishing.

"Aw, hell." Dell said. "He was supposed to get the damn radio." He paced around for a moment, lost in thought. He stopped, removed his hard-hat and rubbed his bald scalp as he considered things. "Alright, who wants to go next?" Nobody said anything and Scout glanced around.

"Ah, screw it, I'll go. Gimme the radio." Scout said.

"Good man. If you are about to be killed, be sure to radio us first, ja?" Medic said. Scout frowned and ignored him while he grabbed his shotgun. He walked over to Dell and took the radio. As he stepped up to the teleporter, he took a deep breath.

"Wish me luck, guys." He said. Nobody said a word as he stepped onto the machine.

"At least Miss Pauling won't miss you if it goes wrong!" Spy called as Scout began to spin. He scowled and opened his mouth to respond before he was gone.


Marion, Iowa, April 9 2076

Charles handed the driver a large wad of money as they pulled over by the side of the road in the outskirts of the city of Marion.

"Thanks, man. I think this is like, thirty bucks more than you owe me." The driver said. Charles smiled.

"Keep it, old chap." He said. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. Hey, you sure you want to get out here? It's a long way from anywhere important, you could stay in and I could drive you to a hotel, no problem. Wouldn't take ten minutes." The driver said.

"Thanks, but it's alright. I have a friend waiting for me, it's all sorted." He said.

"Alright, you take care, Mr Chaplin." The driver said.

"You too, Mr Smith." Charles said, grabbing his briefcase and cane and exiting the cab. He closed the door, turned and waved as the driver set off. He took a deep breath and began walking down the street. He payed no mind to the houses around him and headed deeper into the city. Eventually, he turned into an alley and at the end, a tall woman with long blonde hair, pale skin and deep green eyes stood, leaning against the wall at the end of the alley. Next to her was a door.

"Evening, love. Everything alright?" Charles asked. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"You're Charles Chaplin, right?" She asked. Her accent was American, but definitely not from this part of the US. From what Charles knew of different American accents, it sounded like she was from New York. Maybe the Brooklyn area.

"Any other British men aged around 50 meant to be here?" He asked.

"No. I've seen your Overwatch picture. Your hair used to be black." She said. Charles rolled his eyes.

"Yes, well, it was a few years ago and I've gotten a bit older. People do tend to go grey with age." Charles said.

"Alright, chill. My name is Sarah Peters, head of communications at Watchpoint: Marion. I've heard you're my new boss." She said. Charles nodded.

"According to our primate leader, yes. Where is the Watchpoint, anyway?" He asked. Sarah stood up straight, straightening her trench coat.

"Through this door, follow me." She said. She turned and opened the door she had been standing next to. Charles followed her in. They walked down a dimly lit corridor until they reached the end, where another door stood. She pulled out a key and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open to reveal a staircase going downwards. He followed her down and they found themselves in a large, empty bar. Sarah walked over to a door that had a simple image of a woman above it. Charles frowned.

"The entrance is through a toilet?" He asked.

"Yes, it's through a toilet. All the other entrances are out in the open, we wouldn't want anybody to see us going in." She said. Charles scowled and followed her into the bathroom. It was a long, empty bathroom that looked like it hadn't been used in years. The far wall was composed of four vertical mirrors that stretched from floor to ceiling. Sarah walked over to them and cleared her throat.

"Agent Sarah Peters speaking, access code 42119879." She said. For a moment, nothing happened. But then, the a hissing filled the air as the middle two mirrors receded into the wall. They slid apart to reveal another corridor leading to a lift.

"This is an interesting place to hide a military base." Charles mused.

"I'd tell you to shut up if you weren't my new boss." Sarah responded. "Come on." At this, she walked through the wall and down the corridor, the echo of her boots filling the air. After a moment of hesitation, Charles followed and heard the mirrors closing behind him. As this happened, lights on the ceiling flickered on. Once they were at the lift, Sarah pushed a button and the doors slid open. They entered the lift and as the doors slid shut, it began to descend. After a minute, the lift stopped and the doors opened. Sarah was first out and Charles followed. He stopped to take in the sight of a large hall. Several doors were located along the walls, there were many staircases going up and high above, through a glass window, Charles could see what looked like the command center of the base. He chuckled.

"Thirty-eight personnel, twelve holding cells deeper underground, tens of thousands of dollars worth of weapons and communications equipment. A dozen more personnel are on the way. Welcome to Watchpoint: Marion, boss." Sarah said.


Unknown Location, Unknown Date

"Fuck you, Spy!" Were the words out of Scout's mouth as he crashed into the ground. He gasped in pain, his gun, bat and the radio flew from his grasp. He rolled onto his back and groaned, covering his face with his hands and lying there for a moment. He took a deep breath and sat up, looking around. The environment around him. He was located on a hill and was surrounded by green. Trees and grass, all going for miles around. In the distance, he saw a river.

He walked over to the radio, picked it up and activated it.

"This is Scout, you guys picking up? No sign of Pyro, either he teleported someplace else or he's burning a town down. I'm in... What is this, Wisconsin? I don't know, never learned much about the geography of the states, could be someplace else. Hello, boys?" Scout said. He received no response. "Damn it, fucking useless..." He muttered tossing the radio aside. He sat down. He had no idea where he was, but with any luck, the rest of the group would turn up soon and they could help him sort things out.

For nearly ten minutes, nothing happened and Scout grew increasingly worried with every passing second. Then, suddenly, he heard the telltale sound of somebody teleporting followed by:

"I FORGOT MY ROCKETS!" Cried Soldier as he crashed into the ground next to Scout. Scout nodded at him as he groaned and he heard more teleportation sounds. Soon, the entire team was all around him, sprawled in the dirt. Spy was the first one to recover. He rose to his feet and looked down at Scout.

"Did you radio us, Scout?" Spy said.

"You bet. You didn't get it?" He asked. As he said this, Dell stood and looked at him, shaking his head.

"We didn't, no. Where's Pyro?" The engineer asked. Scout shrugged.

"He wasn't here when I arrived, so he's probably hiding out in that forest for whatever reason. I don't think it really matters, we should figure out where we are. Speaking of which, you got any idea, engi?" Scout asked. Dell frowned.

"I told you my name, why don't you use it?" He asked. Scout grinned.

"I kinda forgot already." Scout said. Dell scowled.

"Whatever. As for where we are, I ain't got a clue, though if it's still in the states, from the terrain and that river I'd say... Somewhere in the Midwest." He said. Scout clapped his hands together, standing and laughing.

"Aha, I guessed correctly. Wait, Wisconsin's in the Midwest, right?" He asked. Dell nodded.

"That is if we're still in America, we could be somewhere else. Or we might just be somewhere in America that looks a bit like your typical Midwest countryside." He said.

"All this guessing is meaningless until we figure out what part of the world we are in. It could be the Midwest, or it could be anywhere else on the planet. France has lots of areas like this." Spy pointed out.

"Oh, come on, do you see an Eiffel Tower?" Scout said. Spy glared at him.

"Alright, let's just ignore that, boys. Spy's right, we need to at least get a general location before we can narrow it down and get back to RED Bread." Dell said, adjusting his goggles. "Or any RED base, really." As he said this, the rest of the team gathered around to join the conversation.

"How's about we find the Pyro before he burns something down?" Sniper mused.

"Very good idea, Herr Mundy. Scout, you would be able to cover ground the fastest." The medic said.

"See, you just gotta rub it in that you bothered to learn people's names, don't ya? And I ain't lookin' for that freak on my own, fellas. Somebody should search with me, or instead of me. I could find somewhere for us to stay while we figure things out, there's probably buildings somewhere beyond those trees." Scout said. Spy rolled his eyes as he opened his cigarette case, took one out, placed it in his mouth and lit it. He closed the case and put it back in his suit jacket along with his lighter.

"I can look for Pyro, if Scout isn't man enough to try." Spy said around his cigarette. He took it out of his mouth and exhaled a large puff of smoke before putting it back in.

"I will look for him too!" Soldier chimed in. "We cannot fight the BLUs without our entire team!"

"I'll look for buildings with Scout. That forest over there dinnae look too large, shouldn't take long to get through it." Demo said.

"I imagine we should all search for settlement, except for those looking for the Pyro." Medic said. "But not as one, splitting up would make us discover things quicker."

"Yeah, it also means it's harder to find each-other." Scout pointed out. "We should pick some kind of time and place to meet each-other again."

"Good idea, Scout. How about back on top of this hill in three days? If y'all find anything, let the rest of us know, if not, we keep looking." Dell said.

"Yeah, sure thing, hard-hat. Now's as good a time to go as any. See you fellas in three days." Scout said. He pulled down his cap, tightening it on his head before nodding at the rest of them, turning and setting off for the forest.


Watchpoint: Marion - Iowa, 27 August, 2076

Charles sat in the command center of the underground facility, the state government of Iowa completely unaware of the Overwatch activity going on right underneath one of their cities.

"This transmission was detected when, precisely?" Charles asked Sarah.

"Yesterday at 11:00 AM." The young woman said. "Located approximately 120 miles west of here."

"I see. Play the transmission, please." Charles said. She nodded and tapped the holographic screen on the tablet she carried.

"This is Scout, you guys picking up? No sign of Pyro, either he teleported someplace else or he's burning a town down. I'm in... What is this, Wisconsin? I don't know, never learned much about the geography of the states, could be someplace else. Hello, boys?"

"Wisconsin, eh? I'm English and I know more about the geography of America than this fellow seems to." Charles said, chuckling. "Tell me, why is this worthy of note, Peters?"

"It was detected less than a minute after a large unidentified energy spike in the area. Another such spike happened five minutes prior and a third occurred ten minutes later. All in the same area and we have no idea what caused it. It's in the middle of nowhere." She said. At this, Charles nodded thoughtfully.

"I suppose this mention of somebody burning a town down is worrying, though I imagine the state government will have also picked up this message." Charles said. Sarah nodded.

"Why I brought it to your attention, sir." Sarah explained.

"Very well. Dispatch a team of soldiers to investigate. But if there's any sign of state officials of any kind, they have orders to withdraw, understood? The people of Marion don't know we're here and nor does the Iowa government, we're under strict orders from Winston to make sure things stay that way for as long as possible." Charles instructed.

"Of course, commander. I'll relay the orders now." She said. She turned and walked out of the command center as she tapped the holographic screen repeatedly. Charles sighed and looked around at the eight other people in the command center.

"Keep up the work, lads. I'm off for a stroll around the facility." He instructed. Nobody responded and he rose from his chair in the middle of the command center with a pained grunt. He leaned on the arm of the chair and grabbed his cane. Once he was ready, he limped off.


Scout strode through the light undergrowth of the forest with consummate ease, weaving through the trees and moving at a brisk pace. He kept his shotgun ready though he doubted he would need it. He was glad that splitting up had been suggested, now he could be alone with his thoughts and he had been happily alone for the last day as he moved through the woods.

He thought of Miss Pauling, the woman he had become so smitten with in the three years he had worked in the employ of Redmond Mann and the Administrator. In between all the firefights, close calls and injuries, he had always wanted her. Though he had no fear in the face of enemies and quite happily ran headfirst into certain death, he had not quite had the courage to make any serious advances upon the secretary of the Administrator until a misunderstanding where the entire RED team thought they were filled with tumours. Then, with the help of Spy, Scout had finally entered a relationship with Miss Pauling following them killing a bread monster created by the Soldier.

It had not lasted long, however. Pauling had little patience for Scout's immaturity and general dickishness, Scout himself had little patience for her constant working. Finally, after two months of arguments, she had finally told Scout that she wanted their relationship to return to a professional one. That had been a week prior and Scout had been miserable ever since. He almost wished for a fight so that he could clear his head.

As he reflected upon the events of the last few months, he noticed that the trees were thinning and in the distance, he could see a long, rolling grassland with many hills in the distance. He could also make out a long, empty road and by that road, a two-story building. He grinned, forgetting his troubles momentarily and running. It did not take long to be out of the forest and he slowed to a halt by the side of the road. It looked old and ill-maintained. The building did not look much better. It was a run-down, ramshackle and rustic building. A faded white sign with red letters read Sully's Roadhouse. The building was painted dark red and shaped like a cube, with four windows on each wall, two per floor. Most of the windows were boarded up and the dark red roof had a ruined stone chimney atop it.

"Just the kind of building we Reds like..." Scout muttered. He walked over to the front door. The white double-door was in relatively good condition though the locks were rusted and it took one shot from his pistol to get the doors open. Once it was open, he walked through the doors and took in the sight. The entire bottom floor was a large bar. Over in the corner was a large pool table. Two cue sticks lay on the table along with several balls, as if a game was currently in progress. Not far from this table, a jukebox stood, covered in dust with two spare cues leaning against it. The large room also had several tables with chairs around it. Some were empty, some had plates and cups on them, a handful of newspapers were also scattered about. Dominating the corner of the room to the right of the doorway was the bar itself, with a long counter creating a small rectangle around the corner. Several empty and half-empty glasses were on this counter and a large refrigerator stood proudly, dozens of bottles still showing through the glass door despite there being nothing cooling them. A stairwell by the fridge undoubtedly led to an underground cellar with plenty of food and drinks stored there.

Scout smiled as he looked at all this. An abandoned roadhouse would be perfect for them to stay at while they pieced together where they were. He imagined there would be several bedrooms upstairs as well.

"Sully, I don't know who you were, pal, but thanks for ditching this joint." Scout said as he examined the counter. He saw a newspaper and his smile disappeared when he saw the date on it.

"July third... 2046..." He said. "What the fuck? What the fuck is this?" Scout picked up the newspaper and stared at the headline.

Omnic Crisis Worsens

"The fuck is an Omnic?" He muttered as he read the article on the front page. "Robots... Spreads to America and Australia... Governments of the world helpless..." After a moment, he tossed the newspaper back on the counter. He removed his cap and set it down by the newspaper, running his hands through his hair as he tried to figure out what this all meant.

"Oh, fuck me... The teleporter, the god damn teleporter... What the hell did that hard-hat wearing redneck get us into this time?" He muttered. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. After a moment, he exhaled loudly. "Nope, not working." He said. He put his hand on the counter and climbed over it, landing on his feet on the other side. He walked over to the fridge, opened it, took out a bottle of beer and opened it. He hesitated. The beer was not cold and probably not safe to drink. After a moment, he shrugged and drained the bottle in one go. He reached for a second, opened it and drank more slowly.

"God damn fucking... This can't be real, some guy just made shit up. Definitely. When I see the engi, I'll ask him, just make sure... Make sure he didn't send us forward in time seventy god damn years... Ah, fuck..." Scout said. Without finishing his current bottle, he grabbed another and then climbed back over to the other side of the counter, taking a seat and drinking quietly. After ten minutes, he finished the third bottle and took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and rubbing his eyelids with his forefingers while his temples received the same treatment from his thumbs. After a moment longer, he picked up his hat and put it back on.

"Alright, gotta let the boys know I've found a place for us to stay..." He muttered. He stood up and stretched. He paused for just a moment longer and then left, heading back for the trees.


Author's Note: Hey, all, this is the first chapter of my new story. I recently got back into Team Fortress 2 and decided I should write a crossover with it and Overwatch after watching the Death Battle of Tracer vs the Scout. I hope you enjoyed this and be sure to leave a review to tell me what you guys think. I shall write more if people like what they see.