He was sure he was donefor. Out of ammo, cornered, and injured with no medic to call to or even a measly medpac to be seen, the Blu Scout pressed himself against the hard wooden planks of the wall as the Pyro approached him. The seconds passed by in an agonizingly slow fashion, sweat dripping down the Scout's face even though the air was frosty enough for him to see his own laboured breath upon it. The Red Pyro was within a definite attacking distance, but he didn't raise his flamethrower just yet, observing the Scout through the cold eyes of his gasmask and tilting his head a bit. The Scout had always been terrified of this.. This inhuman /thing/. He couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in the Pyro's head as he (it?) studied him.. And frankly, he didn't want to even so much as try. Stiff with fear, he found his gaze absently following the wispy tendrils of white breath that seeped from within the mask, curling upward and disappearing into the air... And he was immediately grateful for what those tiny puffs of white brought to his attention.
Hardly five feet above the Pyro's head was a ledge upon which was a crate- and whoever had placed it there apparently hadn't thought it was very important, or had thrown it aside in haste, for it was balanced awfully precariously. Sending up a quick prayer that this would work, he battled himself silently for a split second before quite suddenly he launched his empty gun at the crate with the wild abandon of a cornered person with nothing to lose. The Pyro, who had satiated his curiosity of the trembling little creature and raised his flamethrower, was startled by this sudden action, looking up just as the crate fell on top of him. The force of it immediately flattened him to the ground with a loud crash. Consequently the crate broke open upon impact, revealing it to have been mostly empty, save for a few tools such as a hammer and a pair of pliers; and lots of dust. The Scout waved his hand in front of his face, coughing a bit before pushing himself away from the wall, tentatively hobbling forward on his good leg. The other one had a bullet buried in it and merely acted as deadweight for now. The Pyro lay motionless under the pile of broken planks that had previously constituted the crate. The Scout swallowed, too relieved to even celebrate his good fortune in any manner, wiping some of the sweat from his brow and preparing to make his way out of there.. Before he noticed a bit of movement.

"Oh shit.." The Pyro was still alive. Definitely unconscious but breathing. The Scout looked around a bit shiftily, unsure how to deal with this situation. Something had to be done before the guy woke up, which would probably be soon, seeing as the crate really hadn't been that heavy- the Scout knew he wasn't fast enough with this injured leg to make it out of there far enough to be safe within that time frame..
His gaze fell on the hammer that had slid across the frosty floor close to him when the crate had broken apart. Slowly he bent down to pick it up.

"Could just.. Kill him." He hesitated even as he said it. Cracking a guy's head open while he was totally out of it seemed kind of underhanded; even though they were all a bit morally questionable to begin with. After a moment he grumbled and tossed the hammer away. That wasn't happening. Not because he had a sudden attack of conscience, but rather because.. Well, who wasn't curious about the Pyro. Even his own team's pyrotechnician was a mystery. Pausing a moment, he finally gathered his thoughts and crept forward as best he could, trying not to put any pressure on his bad leg. Crouching down, he unbuckled his belt and pulled the Pyro's hands behind his back, wrapping the belt around his wrists and buckling it again tightly. After he was sure it was secure, he hooked his arms under the Pyro's and, with effort, dragged him over to the corner where snow wasn't flooding into the building.

"Fuck, man.. Didn't think you'd be this heavy.." He grunted, finally letting go and slumping down against the wall. After taking a short minute to catch his breath, he looked over at his.. Captive? Felt weird to use the word, even mentally, but the situation semed to call for it anyway. Reaching out to prod at the Pyro first, to be sure he was really still out, the Scout swallowed thickly, his hand moving upward, hooking beneath the thick, black material of the Pyro's mask..