Chapter Text
Something had changed in the Gravels war. Battles were becoming more sporadic and the Administrators input became less and less. There was a sense of unease tinged with excitement in the air. It was becoming clear that the war was beginning to end.
This had sent the Red team into a strange mix of determination and anxiety. It had been a long three years that they had worked together and fought together, thoughts that soon it would all end and they would be set free into the world once more was a strange concept to them. Some like Heavy and Engineer were looking forward to being dismissed, to once more be their own men and come and go as they pleased without having to answer to anyone.
For others such as Solider and Scout it seemed daunting to have such an important part of their lives come to a close.<
They were not the only ones who were unsure of the future.
The Red Sniper lay next to his lover the Blu Spy after having shared a scrumptious meal in the Sniper's private room. Sniper having only picked at his but had managed to hide his lack of appetite from his partner, or so he hoped. They had shared a bottle of wine and had opened a fine Scottish Whiskey as a night cap.
The Australian should have been looking forward to the war coming to an end, after all he and Spy had made many wonderful, exciting plans together but that was before the Red Spy had made his advances. Now he felt cold and unsure.
If he was being honest with himself he was down right terrified of what might happen once the fighting had stopped and the teams disbanded.
As he lay in the darkness listening to Spy's slow even breaths. his mind kept replaying the events of that morning when the Red Spy had managed to pin him down once more.
~ ~ ~
He didn’t know how or when the Red Spy had managed to get to him.
One moment he was walking towards the recreation room the next he was naked in the Red Slooth's room.
On his hands and knees with a collar made of heavy leather wrapped tightly around his neck. A weighted short chain connected it to the floor and kept his movements restricted, not that there was much point to it for when he had opened his eyes he was well and truly under the influence of the drug.
He couldn’t have fought even if he wanted to.
Spy had been behind him, pounding into him mercilessly. He had snaked a hand through Sniper's hair, pinning his head firmly to the rough floor.
The worst thing however was the mirror that the Spy had positioned in front of them.
The Australian couldn’t even turn his head away as he was forced to watch his body spasm as Spy’s cock relentlessly abused his prostate causing painful pleasure to crash through him.
The mirror forced him to take in his flushed cheeks, the drool that escaped from his slack jaw as moan after moan was pulled from his throat with every thrust and his eyes bright with arousal.
Even with the drug clouding his brain he knew that he hated himself for this, he hated how powerless and needy he felt.
Then something, a memory wriggled itself from his drug induced fuzziness. Something that was meant to help him, meant to stop all this.
“Flag” he managed to groan. He saw the reflection of the Spy sneer before he felt those long fingers pull painfully at his hair.
“What the hell are you talking about, slut?” Came a hard voice. A particularly deep pump of the Spy’s hips made the Australian forget all about the useless word as a sharp cry was ripped from him.
“Who owns you?”
“You” Sniper whispered, the fog in his brain once more engulfing him.
A sharp open handed palm hit his ass cheek.
"Maître” he corrected with a gasp as painful lightening cracked through his body at the contact.
"That's right, ma petite pute. No matter where you go you are mine, remember that. Now beg your Maître to fuck you"
"Ah, please, Maître. Please." Sniper whimpered, the prickling heat that was coating his body drove him deeper into madness.
"Please. Ah, Flag. please, close. Maître!"
“Touch yourself. Stroke that big cock of yours and make yourself cum while I ride you”.
With a trembling, weak hand Sniper grasped his hard neglected cock. A wonton moan fell from his lips as he started to pump his fist.
“Such a needy whore” Spy panted as his orgasm loomed “look at yourself, you're much more talkative today do you know why?"
Sniper could barely concentrate as the intense heat inside him started to reach its crescendo and he felt his balls tighten uncomfortably.
"It is because I only gave you half a dose" Spy declared breathlessly. "You're learning well, You're partially here of your own accord. What a good bitch you are."
It was this nightmarish information that Sniper cam to, body wracked with unbearable heat as his pleasure was ripped from him. Ropes of hot cum splattered the floor below him as he spilled his release.
He felt Spy shudder behind him and his raw abused flesh being filled with the other man's pleasure.
Completely spent and exhausted mentally and physically Sniper's arms and legs gave out and he slumped to the floor.
As darkness encroached he felt himself be turn over and something buzzing quietly. The last thing he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness was a jeering voice.
"Whore".
~ ~ ~
Now lying in his bed in his lovers arms, Sniper should have felt safe. It had been hours since he woke up alone in the Rec room, feeling sore and vulnerable. He was being ridiculious, he scoulded himself. How could he ever fix himself if he kept replaying the past in his mind.
But the burning tightness on his hip bone that he had first noticed as soon when he had awoken kept bringing him back to those horrific memories of his latest run in with the Red Spy.
He had been too fearful to look earlier in the day but now with the best part of half a bottle of whiskey in him, the Sharpshooter decided that enough was enough.
Silently he slipped from the warm covers, picked up Spy’s discarded jacket and the bottle of left over whiskey and crept into the bathroom.
He closed the door with a quiet click and flicked on the light.
Momentarily blinded by the brightness, he groped for the sink. As his eyes adjusted he looked at himself in the mirror.
He’d lost weight, now he was skinny instead of lean with sunken cheeks and ribs visible through his pale skin.
His lips were chapped and raw from constant biting and picking.
His eyes trailed down to his sharp hips where the waistband of his boxers were sitting loosely.
He steeled himself, swallowing hard as he looped his thumb over the elastic and pulled them down, letting them fall effortlessly to his ankles.
He forced himself to look.
There on his hip bone so it was just hidden when he was wearing clothes was the letter J tattooed in black ink. A simple twirling letter no bigger than his thumb but on his pallid skin it had an sickening eye catching effect.
Sniper sucked in a breath as he was forced to face reality. It hadn’t been a nightmare or a side effect of the drug.
The Red Spy really had marked him.
To remind him always that the Red Spy had claimed him, all of him. A constant to reminder that he would never be free from the Frenchman.
No.
He took a deep glug of the whisky. Barely registering as the warm liquid travelled down and burned in his empty belly.
No, he refused this.
It was bad enough he’d become jumpy at his own shadow, that he felt he’d become a shadow of his former self. Something deep inside of him snapped.
He would not live with this physical reminder.
He reached for Spy’s jacket. He delved a hand into one of its pockets, finding what he was searching for before letting the expensive blue material fall to the tiles below.
He rolled the butterfly knife between his fingers. Feeling the smooth wood and intricate engravings of the handle before flicking the blade out.
A gulp of fiery whiskey and he placed the tip of the knife against his clammy skin.
The knifes edge was so sharp that it only took the slightest pressure for a drop of blood to form around the weapons tip.
Another swig and he braced his other hand against the skink.
He refused this.
Spy didn’t know what made him wake up from his slumber.
Maybe it was the stillness of the room, so unnerving that it penetrated his dreams.
He sat up as soon as he realised he was alone in bed. He felt the empty space next to him, it was cold.
The light slithering under the crack of the bathroom door caught his attention next.
How long had Sniper been in there?
Swinging his legs out of bed, he went to the door and knocked.
There was no answer.
Then a strange scent made his nose prick. A startling smell with a metallic tinge.
“Sniper” he asked loudly through the door.
Still no reply.
“I’m coming in” and he entered the brightly lit room.
There was blood all over the floor.
Splattered over the tiles, dripping down the side of the sink.
Inside the bowl of porcelain was a pool of blood, Spy felt his stomach churn as he saw a chunk of flesh and his knife sitting in amongst the crimson.
Then on the floor between the toilet and the wall, with an arm resting on the closed lid was the Sniper.
Sitting with a vacant look on his face, his other hand pressing a towel to his hip. It was already saturated in blood.
“Oh, Mon Deiu” Spy gasped in horror as he came to kneel in front of his lover. “What have you done?”
The Australian did not answer him, instead staring through him.
“Sniper, can you hear me?”
If the other man could hear him he gave no indication. The Sharpshooter skin was pale and slick with sweat. Spy looked at the drenched towel.
"Can I look, Mon Amour?" Carefully he peeled back the material an inch, feeling no resistance from Sniper's trembling hand. Even just a quick glance at the wound was enough for him to know that it was more than his limited medical training would be able to handle. He needed help and he needed it now. He covered the wound once more and replaced Sniper's hand over it.
"Keep pressure on that, Mon Cher" He said "I'm going to get help".
"Didn't listen" the words that fell from the Sharpshooters pale lips didn't sound like his own. They sounded as if they were coming from far away.
"Pardon" Spy hoped that now he had spoken maybe Sniper was starting to come back to himself. "What did you say, Mon Amour".
"Flag" a violent shake ran through the taller mans body. "He didn't stop".
One thing at a time, Spy reminded himself before his emotions got the better of him. Get help first.
"I will be right back, Mon Amour" he whispered and slipped from the room.
"It'll never stop" Sniper mumbled to the empty room.
Spy raced along the corridor in silence, his heart thudding hard. He felt as if his world was crumbling around him as the implication of Sniper's words sunk in. When he had first heard rumours of the war ending he had been relieved. He thought that they would have been able to leave all the hurt and trauma here to be forgotten amongst the sands of Teufort. He had allowed himself to relax, to let his guard down.
What a idiot he had been.
He had promised himself that he would never let anything like this happen again yet here they were. It was clear that his Red counterpart was more determined than he could have ever imagined. He felt that he had failed himself and his Bushman. The Red Spy was right, he was an ametuer and a fool.
Spy knocked at the Red Medic's door before realising that in his haste and panic he had forgotten his disguise kit.
Dear God, He thought to himself. I really am useless.
Focus, he reminded himself, now was not the time to give in to self blame and anger. He had to get help, revenge would come later.
Before he could think of what he was actually going to say, Medic opened the door. Both men stared at each other for what felt like eternity before the German started to open his mouth and reached for his Bone saw.
"Kill me later" Spy hissed quickly having recovered his wits. "But first I need your help. Sniper, he's hurt. There's so much blood. I need you to come and help him."
His expression made Medic pause. He was panic stricken and seemed completely different from when he was on the battlefield. There was something so human about him that Medic found himself believing him.
"Who is there, Doctor?" came the rumbling voice of the Red Heavy from inside.
Spy looked at Medic pleadingly.
"Please" he mouthed.
"Just Sniper" Medic lied, surprising both himself and the Frenchman. He grabbed his medical bag and bone saw from the small table beside his door. He made sure that the Spy got a good look at his weapon, letting him know that he was more than willing to use it if this turned out to be a trick after all.
"I will be back later" he threw a smile over his shoulder before stepping out into the darkness of the corridor and shutting the door behind him.
Spy and Medic entered Snipers room quickly and quietly. Before they opened the bathroom door Spy prayed that somehow he had been dreaming or that Sniper had made a miraculous recovery. Unfortunately when he opened the door his lover was where he had left him.
Eyes still staring at nothing and with pale clammy skin. Now he was shivering despite the heat of the stifling room.
"What happened?" Medic demanded as he went to his teammate. He threw a suspicious glare over his shoulder at the Spy.
"I woke up and found him like this".
Not sure whether or not he believed him the Doctor turned his attention back to the injured man but made sure to keep his bone saw within easy reach.
"Hello, Herr Sniper" He said in a gentle voice as he checked his patients wide eyes and racing pulse. "Can you tell me what has happened?"
Sniper turned his head towards the sound but his eyes stayed vacant and unfocused.
He's only said a few words, other than that he just looks through you" Spy said and Medic heard the unmistakable sound of concern in his voice.
"Sniper, may I remove the towel?"
"Hurts"
"Well, let's see what we can do about that, shall we?"
With skilled and light hands he pulled the blood soaked cloth and placed it to one side.
"It seems as though he's sliced a chunk of flesh off his hip" Medic reported as he studied the angle and depth of the cut, it was messy and uneven but he should be able to sew up the skin. He paused, his heart sinking. "He has a second deeper cut at the base of the penis".
"What?" Spy blanched. Dear God, how had he lost control so much that the man he loved had resorted to this.
"Just cut it off" Sniper mumbled "Not worth it. Cut it off".
Medic was stunned to silence, he felt out of his depth. He'd seen breaks of reality before of course but the implications to this were stomach churning. To stop his mind from wondering to places he did not want it to he forced himself to concentrate on how to be useful. He took a breath to recover himself and started to remove the equipment that he needed from his bag.
"I'll stitch the wounds, he'll be alright once he goes through respawn next but I don't trust it at the moment to use it out of hours, what with all the rumours of this whole mess ending" Medic paused, reminding himself that he was in fact talking to the enemy and should be mindful of his words even in this distressing situation.
He splashed liquid antiseptic onto the wounds. It had a mild numbing agent in it and Medic hoped that it would work quickly.
Snipers head jerked as he registered the burning even in his detached state.
"Maître, Flag" He hissed through gritted teeth "Maître".
He kicked his legs out weakly as a spasm shuddered through him. He tried to push the Medic away with quivering hands. His breaths coming in quick and sharp pants.
"I cannot do this if he start to become delirious" Medic said, taking command of the situation. In an ideal situation he would move the lanky Australian so he had better access to the wound but given the circumstances this would have to do. He turned to Spy, "Keep him calm".
Spy knelt on the other of the toilet and grabbed Snipers flailing hands. "Work quickly, Doctor" he said in a strained voice.
"Ach, verpiss dich"
The German started to stitch the tattered skin back together again. As soon as he felt hands touching him near his cock Sniper let out a panicked groan.
"Such a Whore, slut" he murmured. "Flag, please" Spy gripped him harder.
"Mon Cher, it is alright. You're safe, you're here"
"Maître"
"No, not Maître " Spy soothed, conscious of the Doctor listening but the need to comfort his partner outweighed any concerns, besides the German was a smart man he was bound to have pieced things together by now.
"It's me, it's just me, Mon Amour".
To his surprise Sniper turned to look towards him.
"Spy?" the Sharpshooters eyes narrowed as if he was searching through fog.
"Yes, thats right. It's me. I'm here. You're safe, I've got you".
Spy sat gripping onto Snipers tightly for his own reassurance as well as his lovers as Medic worked quickly and efficiently. Stroking his forearms Spy kept whispering quietly, keeping the subject mundane such as the weather or his travels across the world. Anything as long as he kept the gentle buzz of his words flowing. Sniper seemed to respond at least a little, his breathing settled slightly and most importantly he had moved away from all talk of Maître .
Still it felt like years before Medic finally tied off the last piece of thread, stuck a piece of gauze over the stitches and sat back on his heels.
He wiped his hands on a clean piece of cloth and studied his handiwork. Not his finest work but they would only need to hold until Sniper went through respawn which would make him good as new, physically at least.
Medic took a breath, now that the physical wounds had been dealt with it was his duty to his teammate to probe further.
“Has he ever done anything like this before?”
Spy shook his head.
“Any history of depression? Has he ever become detached like this before?”
“What are you really asking?”
“I am his doctor” the German snapped impatiently. “I need to know if he was trying to kill himself”.
The words and their impact hung in the air between the two men as they stared at each other in both horror and mistrust.
“Are you bloody mad?” came a groggy voice.
They turned their attention back to the Marksman who was staring at them with a hard frown.
“Sniper” Spy breathed in relief. He’s snapping out of it, thank God.
The Australian tried of heave himself off the floor but found his arms and legs had lost all their strength. Medic placed a hand on his shoulder to still him.
“Stay still” he commanded softly. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. We’ll get you up soon but just give yourself a moment, bitte”.
“I wasn’t trying to top myself, Doc."
“Alright”. Medic patted his shoulder gently. "It's alright".
Sniper raised his head and met Spy's eyes.
The Frenchman looked absolutely wretched. Sniper felt a sickening guilty feeling eat away at his insides.
He dropped his gaze.
“Doctor, could we have a moment, if you don’t mind” Spy asked quietly.
“Of course. Ich werde etwas finden, das ihm beim Schlafen hilft., ” Medic replied, not wholly sure how he felt being ordered around by the enemy. “I will be just outside” he said to Sniper before stepping out of the room and closing the door.
The silence that filled the room was heavy and uncomfortable as both men were lost in their own trails of thoughts.
“I’m sorry” Sniper murmured. “I didn’t want to scare you”.
Gently Spy reached out a hand and tipped his chin up making Sniper look at him.
“It happened again, didn’t it?” He asked quietly.
He felt Sniper swallow.
“Worse this time”.
“Worse how?”
Sniper’s eyes glanced towards the sink.
Spy followed his gaze.
He made to stand to go and look when the Australian grabbed his arm.
“I’m sorry. But I couldn’t” he took a shuddering breath “I just couldn’t bare it”.
Tenderly Spy removed the others hand and stepped towards the sink. He steeled himself, bile threatened to hit the back of his throat as he looked at the gory mess.
There amongst the lumps of visible skin was the unmistakable traces of a tattoo.
“Respawn” came a muted voice “only heals wounds. Couldn’t risk going through it and that staying”.
Now that the bleeding had stopped and Sniper seemed to be coming back from his detached state, blind rage over took any nausea that Spy was feeling, threatening to overwhelm him completely. He wanted to hurt something. He wanted to kill something, to scream and thrash until his throat was bloodied. When was this nightmare going to end?
Instead he commanded himself to keep composed. Acting on instincts, especially in this kind of situation never helped. He needed to keep calm for Snipers sake at least. Then and only then could he plot his revenge.
The situation was becoming desperate, it was no good waiting for the war to end. Even if it finished next week, Spy was fairly certain that the Red wouldn’t let Sniper go so easily. What if he followed them, would they have to spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulder?
No. No, he would not let that happen, not to his Sniper. Action needed to be taken and it needed to be taken now.
But first he had to make sure his love was safe for the here and now.
He went back to the slouched figure on the floor and held out his hand.
"Come" he said in a gentle but firm voice. "Let's get you into bed".
As they stumbled through the door, the Frenchman spied the Doctor holding a syringe of clear liquid.
"Versteck das um Gottes willen. Versteck es in seinem Getränk, wenn es sein muss." Spy hissed. Knowing full well that the Sniper would never agree to an injection in this fragile state. It was easier to let the medicine be slipped to him in the least intrusive way possible.
The German nodded and turned back to his medical bag.
Once Sniper was settled under the covers. Medic handed him a tumbler glass of water. He downed it without a second thought. The drug worked quickly and he soon felt his heavy eyelids close. He slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep as his Spy sat next to him on the bed, stroking his hand.
Both men watched as Sniper breaths became deeper and more even. Spy cleared his throat.
"I would appreciate your discretion in this matter. The last few weeks have been eventful and.."
Medic held up a hand to still him.
"I think" He interrupted "That the less I know about what has happened to cause this and your relationship with one another the better and the safer it is for everyone".
"Merci".
"Besides if what I think has happened has indeed happened, then I may not be responsible for my actions." Medic added darkly.
"You stay with him tonight" Spy spoke in a voice that brooked no argument as he dragged himself away from his lover. Ignoring the instinct that was demanding he stay, he began to gather his things.
"Of course" Medic replied, relived that Heavy was used to him being preoccupied most evenings and had likely gone to bed. "But where are you going?"
"I have a plan but it is going to take some organising so I must go now" He replied. The Frenchman felt torn and guilty for leaving his lover in such a vulnerable state but he had to, for both their sakes. "Tomorrow after the battle take him to your office or send him to his watch tower but stay by the ladder. Do not leave him alone".
Medic nodded as he pulled up a chair, readying himself for an uncomfortable nights rest.
"When I first came to this job all those years ago" he began as he settled himself. "I was put off by this wild man with his rough ways. But now I not only value him as a team mate but also as a friend."
The German looked squarely at the Blu.
"I trust you will do what is needed to keep him safe".
Spy bowed his head and crept from the room.