Fire illuminated the night, making shadows dance. Theres war on the streets tonight. Good versus evil. Light versus darkness. But the barriers blended. Everyone knew it and with every day the conflict continued, with every soul lost in this warfare white turned a little more into grey...
He had been here for three years now…him and plus his team. Three years of watching people die, people being shot, people screaming to just let them die… three years of constant fear for his life.
He crouched there, amidst the chaos around him, pressed against one of the destroyed cars, his breath coming in fast little, adrenaline-induced gasps. Smell of sulphur hung heavily in the air, making every inhale torture, but in the end it didn't matter. What mattered, was that he had to find his team
He looked down his torn, red-colored shirt and combat-trousers, wincing at the blood-splatters that covered him. He didn't know who those blood splatters belonged to. Maybe they were from that man who got shot last night and the blood all but splashed his trousers. Or maybe it was from two days ago when he barely escaped an attack with only a bullet grazing his forearm.
He ducked as nearby another set of shots disturbed the night.
"Damnit!" Swallowing, he took a deep breath and decided he couldn't stay there any longer. It wasn't safe. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die here of all places. Hell on Earth as it was called. He only wanted to find his team. Find them safely , share a beer and forget – THIS – at least for a couple of hours. He wanted that.
Pushing to his feet he started to sprint. Shots accompanied his run, and he zigzagged over the open place, head pulled between his shoulders, trying not to offer an all-to-easy target.
The archway was almost there as he felt something bite into his skin, but he ignored the small ripple of pain as he forced himself to move faster, stumbling head over toe through the archway and into the dark court behind it, crashing to the ground. His legs pulled up as the pain hit and he felt the unmistakable tang of blood on his lips.
"Nnnngghhh!" he felt warm, sticky moisture soak into his shirt on his belly, his hand clutching at the gaping wound...
"Fuck, shit, no, no, no, no…" he breathed. No! Not like this. Not like this.
"Hurry up Scout!" Sniper had yelled to him from inside the archway as The young man ran his way towards at speed that would probably put a racehorse out of commission.
The boy had come tumbling in Right as sniper took a shot at a on coming Bot that was running at scouts heels and let out a deep breath, right as the bot went down and the boy came tumbling in head over heels.
But he didn't get up
"Scout?" He called. Worry instantly spiked through his entire body and he knew something was wrong. Sniper immediately ran to the boy
He was by a bunch of ammo crates hunched over on his side with an arm wrapped protectively around his ribs. His eyes were squeezed shut in pain and as he coughed weakly, saliva was stringing out of his mouth and down the front of his shirt.
"sniii ..." it was so difficult to breathe suddenly, the pressure on his stomach growing.
"Hold on... hold on..."
"Hurts..." he writhed, tried to hide away from the pain.
"Shh.... shhh.. ... stop fighting me boy. Open your eyes ..."
He didn't remember closing his eyes in the first place, but as he blinked them open, he found himself staring right into gray-blue orbs, A face hovering over him with a smear of blood in the right side of Its face.
He wasn't in the court anymore, in fact it felt as though he had actually never had been there in the first place. His breath hitched again, as the pressure he felt grew even worse.
"Ahh... s-stop..." He gasped, felt his eyes roll back into his head.
Could feel someone's hands on him, screaming his name...
"Snieee ..." Blinking open, harsh head lights almost blinded him. His eyes moved sluggishly, not able to keep up with the movement of the thing going on around him.
"Scout... C'mon buddy! Stay awake... stay with me here..." he blinked again, his head moving ever so slightly, coming to a rest at someone who appeared to be carrying him.
"sniee?" What the hell happened? He could remember searching for his team. Being alone. Being shot. Oh god it hurts! His stomach! How did they find him? How did Sniper find him? How? Where? It was all so confusing.
The smile his teammate offered him showed his real concern.
"sniee?" he repeated, feeling tired and weightless... so weightless. His eyes slowly closed shut and he felt himself drift, as he ignored everything around him; the frantic shouts, the commotion.......
It required incredible strength to re-open his eyes and when he did, he met his teammates intense grays as his face hovered over him. Sniper's face was a mess of blood and dirt. His hair was stuck to his forehead, his lower lip was split open and his neck was covered with sweat.
"SNIPER!" "HURRY UP YE BLOODY AUSSIE" a figureless voice had called.
A hand held his head in a cradle and his senses were assaulted by the smell of leather, gun-powder and oil.
"Shhh, I got ya... we're almost there... hold on, kid. Hold on."
"sn..." his hands clutched for his team members's shirt, holding on in no intent of ever letting go, trying to shuffle closer. He whimpered in pain as it exploded and ran in waves up and down his spine.
"H'rts..." he keened, feeling suddenly cold, so cold.
The blood running down his mouth is warm; hot even, oily, smelled like iron... smelled like life and death all at once. Tasted like rust. He raised his left arm up, groans and slipped his fingers on the stream of blood emanating from his mouth
Shit… shit… shit.
He leaned his head back on the seat, hitting His nape on the edge and looked up at the vehicles ceiling… so different from a bases… so very more home... and tried not to think about the mess he was making of the seats, bleeding all over them like that. Sniper's gonne love that in the mornin'.
"Hey, hey, hey… don't fall asleep."
Fingers snap in front of his eyes, the sharp noise splitting something apart in his chest.
He blinks… once, twice, three times… really slowly like he has all the time in the world. He blinked again, his head moving ever so slightly, coming to a rest at someone beside him, touching his shoulder
"Don't close your eyes, . Keep 'em open." It's gruff… Sniper's throat gruff.
"Mhm…" he murmurs to the ceiling. He won't panic, panic makes no difference, just makes you go crazier a bit sooner.
Stars began in to flicker in front of his eyes, white sparks of light that mean nothing, yet mean everything. Blood loss never ceased to amaze him… how your body reacts… cold, getting colder, seeing stuff you're not meant to see… getting sleepy, sleepier until all you can see it darkness, until all you can feel is cold. Until all you can smell is nothing. Until everything just slips away from you through your blood. Until everything is just… gone.
"Eyes open, man."
There's urgency… there's fear…..there's calm... there's Sniper… in that voice.
It hurts. Pain in his head that he would never wish upon his worst enemy. He wants to scream, tear his throat wide open with screams but he can't... can't do that. Gotta be strong. Gotta be a man about it, Gotta be a man... gotta suck it up, gotta breathe through it, Scout... gotta be brave.
Sniper watched the boy as his eyes began to roll and he slump forwards only for Sniper to catch him in his arms and lay his head on his lap. What was scarier though, was even with the dim lighting of the street lamps emitting through the car window and the odd angle the kids head was laying, Sniper could clearly see that Scouts's lips were turning blue and the veins in his neck were bulging every time he drew in a shaky breath.
Hey. Scout. Scout! Hey. Look at me scout!
Scouts's gaze flickered to Sniper momentarily without a hint of recognition. He looked like he was in extreme pain right now, his eyes rolling as he fought to stay conscious. He was breathing in short, sudden gasps which were getting less and less frequent and his face more and more blue. It looked so painful, that Sniper could almost feel his own chest clenching with each breath the kid took.
Keep breathing Kid! Come on!
"snip... si..." and before Scout managed to choke the word out he started to heave, ripples of pain coursing through his body. Blinking against the dark spots that made it almost impossible to see the bright red he had spewed down Snipers front and lap, and the car floor.
"..Oh my... Demo! Faster! Damnit! Demo would ya just hit the gas? He's going into shock!" Sniper ordered bashing his fist into the roof of the car a few times in a some odd attempt to get the Demoman moving. It worked though, the Scottish man slammed his foot down hard on the gas, his eye seemed to always to be on the mirror looking back at them.
Scout could feel the blood he just vomited on the side of his face as Sniper wrapped his arms around him to hold him close.
"I won't let you go... hold on scout... 'm here... just a few more minutes. I won't let you go..."
The moment he'd spoken the words, the world around Scout grew dark, slowly vanished, leaving him drifting in a pitch-black void.