Chapter Text
Spy POV
Everyone split up for a short time before reconvening at the fire pit. During that time I went to my room and pulled out the files on Samantha that had just arrived earlier that morning.
It was not something to brag about, being only a handful of pages in a Manila envelope, most of which were copies of birth and death certificates from her immediate family. Most of these pages I have had for some time, but there was one page and several photos in the back that were new.
The first of the new notes were directly from Mlle Pauling. It was a brief detail of Samantha’s time working for the Mafia, including the list of her victims names and ages. I winced at two names in particular, since they were merely children. Even I would never stoop so low as to kill children. I decided to wait for her side of the story for those two in particular.
Behind the brief detailing were several Polaroids. Some were relatively recent, pictures of Samantha disposing of bodies and visiting the hospital, while others were several years older. The older ones depicted a younger Samantha smiling widely as she happily embraced a tall man I quickly realized was my BLU counterpart. I could see in the photos that they had truly been happy and in love, and it pained me to realize that the smiles she had given since she first arrived were mere shadows of the smiles in her photographs.
Closing the folder, I stowed it away, quickly making my way to join the others at the fire pit.
^^^^^
I stood away from everyone else, leaning against the wall to our base as I observed, taking in everything. When she brought up the two children on her own, I nodded, seeing that it had been a mistake. I had figured as much, she did not seem to be the type to go off and kill children. I watched as everyone comforted her, but raised an eyebrow at Medic’s comment.
“ Ja , it vas an accident, no one doubts zhat. You didn’t know zhat zhey vere not at school. You can’t keep torturing yourself, fräulein .”
He smiled at her, but I noted that she subconsciously rubbed at her left arm. I narrowed my eyes, seeing just the slightest hint of a scar on her wrist when the fabric of her black jacket was pushed down ever so slightly.
^^^^^
I found Samantha in the kitchen, looking at the clipping of the two children as she sat at the table. As I approached, she looked up. I held out the two glasses in my hand as well as the aged whiskey.
“May I join you, mademoiselle ?” At her silent nod I took a seat and poured her some of the whiskey. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I had not realized.”
Her weak attempt at a smile was pathetic, but I understood. “No one ever does.” Before I could take a sip of the expensive liquor she had already downed it. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“I spoke with the men. We all agreed that you should have Fridays and Saturdays off. Miss Pauling allowed it, so you do not need to worry about a breach in contract.” I watched her reaction, the tips of her ears already turning pink.
“Thank you.”
I cleared my throat before pouring her another glass. “When Medic said you shouldn’t torture yourself, he didn’t mean just mentally, did he?”
“No. He didn’t.” Samantha removed her jacket, exposing her left arm. “I have one for each adult. Thirty for each child. I began to add another for one of the kids, but Pyro interrupted before I could add for the other.”
I began to reach out to touch, but quickly paused, awaiting permission. At her nod, I slipped off my glove and ran my fingers along her exposed arm, feeling the way the scars rose from her flesh in a way that showed how they never properly healed.
“You gave up so much.”
“It’s not like I really had a choice, Spy. I was on my own for seven years. Lisa depended on me. She still does.” I looked up as her voice cracked and I was reminded of someone from my past so very long ago.
I nodded, retrieving my hand and replacing my glove as we nursed our drinks in a comfortable silence.
When I went back to my room, I pulled out polaroids that were hidden in a secret compartment in my lamp. I closed my eyes as I gently kissed the photograph of my late fiancé.
She and Samantha were so similar in personality, but they were not the same.