put it down... (a tf2 scout angst + Speedingbullet)

PEENART😁(that is my favorite word)

AN: SORRY I DIED FOR A WHILE. i had a lot going on irl but i wanna write totally fucked up shit again. Im working on a new thing after some ao3 inspiration... but i will try 2 upload this bc its??? For some reason popping off?? I have better fics yall but okay.

--spy pov-----------

The mercenaries were all painfully aware that we can't die normally, not anymore. That being said I'm still worried sick about my boy. I'm afraid he's dying mentally. Men start wars, but boys shouldn't have to finish them. Me and sniper speed walked down the hall at a steady pace, scaning every inch of the barracks. Suddenly we turned a corner to be met with pyro sitting in the hall, staring blankly at the wall opposite to her. The bushman piped up, leaning down to the others height.

"Pyro! Thank god. Hav' ya seen scout today?" He asked. Pyro brought its fist to his chin in a cartoonish thinking motion.

"Mm... ohn! Eh dmnd shme em. m...oter tmhad whay. tshewe was brood erywherw. Mhedi hws hm, eh thnk?" (Mm.. oh! I did see him. Hmm.. over that way. There was blood everywhere. Medic has him, i think?)
He mumbled, sounding completely unbothered by the strange situation. Pyro swung his arm out pointing the way he saw them running.

"Thanks pyro!" Sniper said, giving it a pat on the head before we ran off. The treck to the infirmary was silent and rushed. What pyro had said just worried us more. I looked over at mundy, pretending i didn't notice the tears welling under his shades. I knew him and scout had gotten pretty close recently, as unexpected as it was. The two were complete opposites. We continued our hurried pace to the infirmary. A place we had all gotten far too familiar with the past couple of weeks. We reached the dirty, white, double doors anxious to find him inside. Sniper banged on the door, the tears in his eyes becoming more and more apparent as he tried to blink them away. I felt like i was watching everything in slow motion. I was a little jealous of how emotional everyone else always was. How much sniper cared, how much medic did too. I was so.. calculated and i couldn't help it. I was trained this way, to be a killer. Sometimes i doubted my own affection towards my friends and family. I felt like i was just an imposter, pretending. I wish i could still tell when i was acting. I cared about scout because i knew i should. But i did care about him? When did the lies begin and end. My head spun with intrusive thoughts. Was i really worried about him? Why didn't i show it the same way as sniper does? Why am i so calm? I was snapped out of my thoughts by the door swinging open with a quiet squeak. I jerked my head up to see the door had finally opened. Misha stood, his brow heavy with worry as he stepped aside to let us in. He stayed quiet, his face looking deeply disturbed. It was a contrast to his counterpart across the room. The doctor looked disheveled as he mumbled to himself feverishly in german and paced back and forth in front of his bookshelf. He was shaking and covered in a cold sweat and what looked like tears. his eyes were red and puffy. He giggled now and then between his slurred ramblings. The poor man looked like he was having a small psychotic breakdown. From the look on heavy's face it wasn't the first time. Medic had never been particularly famous for his mental stability, It was something he couldn't help.

"Where's Jeremy?" Mundee begged of heavy. We were both still very in the dark of the whole situation besides the fact he might be hurt or dead. Heavy pointed to one of the patient beds, curtains surrounding it. He walked us over to it opening it. Scout was asleep, laying with blood all over his clothes. There were no wounds on him indicating that he had already been healed. The amount of dried blood decorating him was concerning to say the least. Mundee huffed and looked away, taking off his glasses to wipe away his tears that he finally accepted were there. I stared expressionlessly at my son. I was worried, and i had a good guess how he ended up like this but i didn't want to process my emotions.

"What happened?" I asked monotonly.
Heavy glanced back at his husband who was still in a daze.

"Not sure if should say... but, boy hurt himself." Heavy pursed his lips nervously. "Is okay for now" He said, like it was a promise to keep him safe.

"Mhn." i nodded my head, it was just like i thought. I had hoped i was wrong. Sniper excused himself before stepping into the hall to calm down. "Thank you," i whispered to heavy to avoid disturbing the sleeping boy or medic. I stepped out aswell to make sure mundee was okay. He didn't seem to be taking it very well.