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It was a day not unlike many others. RED Team versus BLU Team, with RED being the ones trying to grab BLU's intelligence. It was thankfully a successful mission this time, despite the amount of deaths and respawns along the way. That part was usually a given at this point, but nonetheless it was never pleasant. It was the weekend now, finally allowing a few days of rest for the 9 mercenaries. It was growing dark when most of them finally decided to get some rest after a long battle.
But the Engineer wasn't in his quarters yet. Well, he was, but not for the same reasons the rest were.
The man had integrated his bedroom into his workshop. It was a clunky mess for sure, but he rarely had anyone else come in to see the wreck anyways. He knew where he placed his things, and that's what was most important to him. Sure, it looked like a disaster, but it was a disaster he knew how to get through and keep track of.
He hunched over at his desk, looking over his blueprints and taking a few notes. After every battle, he'd make some adjustments to his machines, usually based off their performance that day. Maybe a sentry broke down due to a certain back-stabbing sentry-sapping Frenchman, and he wanted to figure out if there was any way to avoid — or at least minimize — the sapper's affects.
A long yawn escaped him as he looked up at the clock. It was nearly midnight, apparently. Leaning back in his chair, he sighed, bringing his hands to his face and taking off his helmet for a moment.
"I'm really doing this, ain't I?"
His arms were folded on the table now, his head resting on them as he went through this scenario again and again in his mind. The man couldn't help but let out a groan at how much this whole situation frustrated him.
"Go big or go home."
He grabbed his helmet and walked out his workshop door.
The Texan knew his teammates well, he was very observant and could remember fairly well where people went to hang out and at what times.
He knew that Pyro liked to go outside at night. They'd look up at the stars for ages, seemingly unable to get enough of it. They'd sit criss-cross, their head cupped between their hands, having not a care in the world. Sometimes, they'd start a small fire. They didn't have a proper fire pit, but they managed to make do with whatever was available. Though at the same time, they knew they had to limit how often they set it up, and be cautious when doing so. They may or may not have started a huge forest fire or two in the past due to a bit of carelessness.
Around the fire pit was a ring of tree stumps. Pyro had taken a liking to drawing on the tops of them. It wasn't the best or most clear canvas, but it was enough for them. Each stump had a drawing of a fellow merc atop it, of varying quality.
The one to their left showed a semi-crude drawing of their team's Spy.
To their right, a less crude illustration of their Engineer.
They looked down at it, only to lift their head up at the man walking out the door.
Speak of the Devil, minus any verbal mention, perhaps.
The man approached closer, until he finally reached the ring. He sat next to the Pyro on the neighboring stump — the one which his face had been drawn onto, but unable to notice it in the dark. The stumps weren't exactly the most pleasant seats, but after some adjusting, he found it comfortable enough to stay sitting.
The tiny fire in front of them was illuminating the area just enough for Pyro to see the other man's hands and facial expressions. They tried to be discreet as possible when catching a glance at the man. Thankfully it wasn't too hard. No one could see their eyes through those seemingly opaque ovals at all.
Engineer shot a small smile at Pyro, watching as the fire's reflection flickered on the glossy eyes of the optical mask. The warmth of it felt comforting, even more so when he saw the light of it bounce off his teammate's apparel. He swallowed before shuffling himself to fully face the fellow mercenary before him.
"Look, Py. I..." He began, trying to articulate himself. "I know it ain't easy, havin'... things 'bout yourself that you don't like. I don't like to show weakness, or any insecurity, but I have 'em... and I imagine you have some of 'em yourself. Everyone does, after all."
Pyro was never really able to show much emotion underneath the mask. Every single facial feature was covered, from the eyes to the mouth, so the most they could do was cock their head to the side and make a small muffled noise, in both understanding and of curiosity.
"I ain't ever seen ya without that mask. Or without the whole uniform in general, I suppose. And I understand why. Dunno if any of y'all have ever noticed or paid it any attention, but..."
The man raised his right hand, swaying it slightly. "This glove here, ain't ever been off me. Not in front of any of y'all, at least. And I know that's a whole lot different from hidin' your entire face and body, but, it's still... hard to keep it securely covered."
Pyro nodded to him slowly as they took in what he was implying, now cocking their head the opposite way.
"I don't wanna make you feel like you have to show me what's under that mask. I'll be honest with ya, I do wanna know, but I also know it ain't an easy thing to just toss aside. I've thought about this for a long time — perhaps longer than I'd like to admit." He chuckled to himself a bit, mostly out of nervousness. "And figured I should show you the one thing I've been keepin' from everyone on this team. Just..."
He looked away from his fellow teammate for a moment, beginning to lower his right hand and bring his left to the end of the long glove, fingers gently gliding across the material, pondering his next words.
"... Promise me, Pyro, that ya won't tell the rest of 'em? I don't think I'm ready for that... not yet."
Pyro moved their head, it now sitting straight on their neck, and responded by signing, ["I promise."]
He took a deep breath, his anxiety making him second-guess himself and flooding his mind with doubt and worry. Was he really doing this? Should he really be doing this? He couldn't just back out now, it wouldn't be fair to Pyro, in his eyes. He couldn't just have this huge buildup with no payoff. It wouldn't be right. He'd feel like a tease, maybe even a coward, and he never wanted to feel like that again. After a short moment, which to Engineer felt like an eternity, Pyro made a noise, alerting him and bringing the Texan's gaze back up to look at their hands, and finally signed again.
["I love you either way. Whatever's under that glove won't change how I feel about you. Promise."]
A warm smile spread across the man's face, and he built up the courage to continue on. Steadily removing the glove from his right hand, it eventually fully came off, revealing a cold and metallic prosthetic that by no means tried to resemble the warm and fleshy hand on the opposite half of his body. The light of the fire reflected off of it as he moved the mechanical digits about, showing full control of his technological appendage. Despite it being anything but, it moved organically, with as much intricacy and steadiness as his biological, natural hand.
"I made this, a long while ago. Been engineerin' for as long as I can remember, and even though I'm good at it, we... well, we all mess up, eventually."
Pyro could see the expression on his face turn into a wince for a brief moment, despite the fact the man's large goggles obstructed his eyes and barely avoided covering the brow. They could only imagine the type of memory he was recalling when it came to this apparent "mess up" that had never been mentioned until now.
Engineer hesitated, taking in a sharp breath and clearing his throat before speaking once more. "So, I... I did what I could, and made this. Call her the Gunslinger. It can kinda be like its own wrench, helping me build all my normal contraptions, but... it's much easier to just cover it up and use the standard tools. You don't exactly see a man with a metal hand every day. It leads to havin' to deal with stares and questions, especially when you're a Conagher."
Time stood still. For a moment the only noises that were heard were the crackling of the fire and the distant chirps of crickets.
"Even though you ain't got the same sorta... expectations to live up to, with me being the grandson of someone like Radigan, I still think you're a professional, Py. An' I know what it's like for professionals to be insecure. Scared of what the folks around 'em think."
He paused, recollecting the times where he had dared to go out without anything covering that dammed hand. The faces of those he walked by were burned into his retinas, never being able to wipe away the memories of the wide-eyed expressions he received from far too many to count.
His voice lowered, gaining a small rasp. "Even when you're turned the other way, you can always feel a stare. Especially when it's a million of 'em all at once. It's like they're darts and you're the target, with each stare landing a perfect bullseye. Each and every time."
Putting a hand to his head, he let out a sigh. He didn't wanna make this all about himself. This was supposed to be about Pyro, too. Pyro didn't mind listening to the man's rants, of course, but was he lingering on this for too long? Was it becoming guilt-trippy in a sense? He didn't know, and he only hoped it wasn't coming off that way. Try as he might, he couldn't fully push the worry away, but he did what he could to move on.
"Just... know you ain't alone on this team, Pyro. You hide parts of yourself, and I do too, albeit on a smaller scale," he admitted. "I get it if you don't wanna show what's under that mask yet, or even ever, and that's okay."
He looked at his glove that he had previously put aside, picking it up and debating whether or not to put it back on. "Just... felt like I could trust you out of everyone else with this type of thing. I'm glad you've been here for me. I... I don't know what I'd do without you, pardner."
As he absent-mindedly played with the article of clothing in his hands, he heard Pyro muffle something, but when looking back over to them, they didn't sign at all for a translation. Only having body language to go off of, he saw the conflict in their movements. They were unsure of what to do next, from what he could tell. The man brought a hand to Pyro's shoulder, giving it a light pat before retracting it to sign.
["You don't need to do it yet, or ever. It's okay. I don't care what's under that mask. Doesn't change a thing about what I think of you."]
Pyro looked down. They wanted to show him something, anything. It didn't feel like an obligation, they didn't feel like they had to do this just for his sake, but a real need from Pyro themself, and a sincere one. They had already thought about this sort of scenario before, but could never decide where to start, only able to keep worrying that whatever they'd show first would either be too much or too little for him to handle.
["I want to show you."] Pyro finally signed back after an attempt to relax. ["I really do, Dell."]
He was taken aback when the masked mercenary used his actual name. It was a mighty rare occasion for anyone on the team to do so, but Pyro specifically tended to only refer to their teammates by their mercenary titles.
["... I'm scared."] They added, body slowly growing stiff as if bracing for an impact.
"You don't gotta be," the other replied, putting his robotic hand to the side of Pyro's mask, caressing it as if it was their actual face. They nuzzled into the palm as the man spoke up once more. "I don't go against other's backs... and I could never even imagine doin' anything to hurt this team, 'specially you."
Pyro moved their hands, unsure of their next gesture. Maybe they'd take off their own gloves, and unveil their bare hands as well. Or they could bring their hands up to their mask and finally take it off, revealing the face underneath that had yet to be seen by a single person in TF Industries. Perhaps they'd just put their hands to Engie's, holding him closer, not knowing what else to do in the moment.
They hummed a small tune, wrapping their arms around Engie and giving him a squeeze.
After the embrace, they pulled away. They looked down at their gloved hands before signing.
["I don't think I'm ready yet."] They confessed. ["But I'm happy you trust me this much."]
Engineer gave an understanding smile, leaning over to give the Pyro a kiss on their forehead. Well, mask, but still.
"I gotcha. Sorry if you felt pressured."
["I didn't. I promise."]
They cupped his face between their hands, pressing their forehead to his.
"One step at a time, firefly, alright?"
A muffled, yet still clearly relaxed, "mhm," was the response.