Heavy Sorrow

It was a quiet Sunday. The enemy had been bloodied and beaten over the past few days, having finally given up the ghost on Friday. With BLU gone, the dusty Egyptian lakeside ruins were incredibly quiet. Despite the dusty terrain, the air was incredibly cold and crisp. Still, it was pleasant enough to annoy other mercenaries.

Scout quickly realised that he’d crossed the line as Heavy lunged at him.

“I didn’t mean, it, man! Come on, it’s just a gag!” The Bostonian dodged and weaved around the giant, before ducking away to safety. Heavy gave up and went back to the control point alone, staring at the dusty brown storm building in the distance.

Scout peered around the corner he’d just escaped from, unsure what had just happened. Normally the big guy wasn’t that easy to piss off. With a shrug, Scout decided to go and pester someone else. Pyro was idling in the pool room, holding pieces of paper. On closer inspection, Scout realised that he was making rubbings of the hieroglyphs on the walls.

“Yo, Pyro! What’s up?”

“Mmmph mmph!”

“Um, alright then.” They’d been working together for so long, and Scout still had no idea what Pyro was saying. Didn’t matter. There were better targets to annoy.

Spy and Sniper were on the battlements, uncharacteristically practising their aim. Normally they would be ignoring one another, but Sniper had insisted on doing some form of training and Spy had nothing better to do after he lost last night’s poker match and had Engineer confiscate his Ambassador. Scout watched them both shoot at an old fence post for a bit, before interrupting by bouncing by and knocking off Sniper’s hat.

“You little wanka!” Sniper sneered. “What do you want?”

Scout smiled. “Nothin’!” He paused briefly. “Say… Either of you knuckleheads know what’s up with Heavy?”

“Nah!”

Sniper fixed his hat then wandered over to place a few bottles on the old fence post, not really caring. Spy though glanced over to the control point, where Heavy was still standing.

“Heavy is always like this at this time of year. He has never said why. I dare not ask him. Perhaps one of the others knows.”

Spy went back to shooting things with Sniper. Scout wanted to press the issue further, but knew he’d get nothing from the enigmatic suited man. Instead, he decided to see where Demo was. Since he’d won the poker match last night, he was celebrating in the resupply room, by drinking dubious amounts of whiskey and cursing loudly at a statue of some Egyptian god thing.

“Ye bloody heathen! Ye stupid little pug! Y- Oh.” Demoman instantly spotted Scout entering the room, which was unusual for the one-eyed Scot. “What d’ye bloody hell want, lad? Can’t ye see I’m busy?”

Scout scratched his head in confusion. “Er, you’re just standing there shouting at a stone dog.”

Demoman blinked a few times. “Ah yeah. Wretched thing was giving me evils. Ye want something, Scout? Or ye want a story or something?”

“I was just wondering why Heavy’s so angry right now.”

“Ain’t got a clue, boyo.” Demo spun around a few times, looking for his grenade launcher, or anything he could use to blow up the precious statue of Anubis. After a third spin, he collapsed on the floor, too dizzy to continue. Scout smirked before heading deeper into the base, where Soldier had holed himself up.

Soldier was the only person who normally ventured down the dark, creaky caves. They were old and horrible and cold and nasty and a huge variety of other, negative words. Most of Soldier’s den was comprised of old tins of soup and bits of wood he had stolen from other areas of the ruins. When they were off duty, he’d spend all day down in there, watching old wartime movies, eating soup and cleaning his rocket launcher.

Scout ignored the three signs that all screamed “STOP OR I WILL SHOOT”, then was surprised when shotgun fire very nearly greeted him as he entered Soldier’s den.

“You coulda killed me, man!” Scout shouted.

“Oh. Sorry, Scout,” Soldier put his shotgun away and went back to his movie. “Thought you were the enemy or something.”

“What? No way! What do you do down here anyway?”

Soldier shrugged. “You never know when those BLU bastards might suddenly storm the place.”

“We beat them.”

“They’ll be back.”

There was no point arguing with Soldier, so Scout decided to ask him about Heavy.

“Heavy? What month is it?”

“January, I think. Maybe February. Not sure.”

Soldier huffed and puffed a few times. “I got no idea, Scout. But Engy and Medic probably know. They know everything.”

“Not everything!” Scout argued.

“Nearly everything. Say, Scout, want to hear a story about how I beat twenty guards to death in a prison camp?” Soldier changed the subject suddenly.

Scout hesitated, tensing up. “Um, I guess?”

Soldier grinned and closed his eyes. Scout waited for him to start, but nothing happened. Clearly Soldier was waiting for that wibbly wobbly thing to happen, like what happens in most TV shows when they want to show a flashback. Scout rolled his eyes and left, unsure what to do, but glad that Soldier was so stupid that he thought his imagination could speak or something.

Maybe Soldier was right about Medic and Engineer though. Scout decided to head up to the little shack round the back of the ruins, where the two geniuses had set up a workshop and lab. Just getting to the damn place was tricky, as Engy had set up way too many sentries. They’d toned it down a bit after one of the sentries got carried away and shot one of Medic’s birds, but still, it was borderline silly.

Scout bashed on the door a few times, but there was no reply until his seventh attempt. But rather than the door actually opening, a flap opened to the side of Scout, bashing him in the side of the head. He didn’t expect that at all. The flap closed and Engineer burst out of the shack, apologising profusely.

“Ah’m sorry, kiddo, din’t see ya there! Ya’ll can’t be too careful ’round ‘ere!”

Scout rubbed his head, trying to think of an insult and failing hard. Medic appeared behind Engineer to apply some Medi Gun healing then disappeared back inside the shack.

“So what d’ya want, boy?” Engy’s tone changed abruptly. “We’re busy workin’ ‘ere. Lotta stuff we gotta do before them BLUs come back.”

“I just wanted to know if you eggheads knew what was wrong with Heavy?”

Engineer shrugged. “There’s something wrong wit’ Heavy? Din’t know that. Doc, what d’ya think?”

Medic appeared behind Engy again.

“Hm?”

“’Bout Heavy, what d’ya think?”

“Oh!” Medic exclaimed. “He’s just sad zhat his sandvich is frozen again. Told him not to leave it outside overnight!”

As quickly as he appeared, Medic disappeared again, slamming the door behind him. Engy and Scout glanced at the shack, then at the control point, then both shrugged and walked off.

“Weird.”

Medic

Medic, also known as Arkay, the resident god of death in a local pocket dimension, is the chief editor and main writer of the Daily SPUF, producing most of this site's articles and keeping the website daily.

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