Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Bell bottom blues… you made me cry.”

Tapping his finger against the steering wheel, he muttered the lyrics of the song to himself, staring ahead at the plain sight of the desert that showcased nothing but hills and dirt and sand.

The wheels squealed against the hot pavement with the heat of the sun glaring through the window, only softened by the cars barely passable AC. He could smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air, though he made no effort to wave it away, slowly becoming familiar with the nose piercing scent.

The car puttered, and if this were a lifetime ago, he would’ve sighed and slapped this old hunk of metal, trashing it and using its parts to make something better and more functional.

However, this wasn’t a lifetime ago, and like the old man that he is, he had nothing better to do than grumble about pointless things.

Dell saw no point in complaining about his life, so he complained about his car instead.

Do you want to see me crawl across the floor to you?

The old thing’s ignition could never start, and it always took a few tries. Whenever the windows were rolled up, the glass would always get stuck in some way, and the seats had lost their cushioning long before he bought the thing second hand. Well, fourth hand if he wanted to be technical.

The only thing Dell’s car had going for it was the radio. Even then, that was a stretch considering the stereo on the passenger’s side had shot itself deaf, making a crackling sound as if it had taken a dunk in water.

I don’t want to fade away. Give me one more day, please.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford another car; Dell was practically rich enough to live the rest of his life in retirement and then some. He’s bought more cars than he’s ever owned in his life; repaired more cars than he’s been in relationships. But that’s neither here nor there.

So, Dell kept the old thing because he had nothing better to do but keep the old thing running on nothing but parts from other junked cars.

Besides, his pride was on the line since the last thing he wanted people to know was that he was scammed with a piece of shit, by a piece of shit. Which was, in all honesty, completely ironic considering Dell himself is a piece of shit.

A piece of shit scammed a piece of shit with a piece of shit.

It was the type of irony that even fiction couldn’t make up.

Once I was strong, but I lost the fight. You won’t find a better loser.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the road, he stares at the stretching asphalt rivers. The roads stretched for miles, and the sky never seemed to change colours or clouds. The roads were the same as when they were far back when he left the base.

The window is down, and a blistering breeze is plumbing through the dodgy car. The wind pushed the collar of his uniform around, and his grip tightened around the steering wheel, lips pinched into a straight line.

Few cars traveled on this road—ordinary vehicles always struggled with back roads—but considering how things have been progressing, he believes life won’t exist on these roads for quite a while until they resolve this problem.

“This problem” being those damned creatures.

Do you want to hear me beg you to take me back? I’d gladly do it because—

“Engineer.”

Just before he could dwell deeper about those monsters, about the screams and cheers and just how thunderous those voices seemed, his thoughts were ripped away from the impracticality of his vehicle and the song that seemed to echo in his head, and he turns to his passenger without an inch of his expression shifting to something else.

There was a moment before his passenger began to speak, a second like the other man was considering something, before he inevitably sighed.

“Why are you taking me with you? I’m useless cargo. I’m sure no one would disagree with me, either.”

Dell’s gaze remains fixed on the luggage in the passenger seat. When the road continued to move in a straight line and there was no life for miles, there was no reason for him to look away from the luggage.

“Chin up, won’t you?” Dell finally begins after a moment, a grin shaping his lips as he finally turns his gaze back to the road. “You ain’t useless, and I’m sure your team doesn’t agree with that, either.”

Spy scoffs, and if he had a body, the Engineer was sure that he would have been long gone by now. “As a head? Tough chance of that being true.” But he didn’t have a head, and Dell laughs at the blunt statement.

“Well… can’t argue with that now, can I?”

The other man falls silent, Dell not adding anything else to the conversation and letting the tension lay thick in the air. While Dell was no expert in emotions, he had to strongly guess that Spy was upset about something, considering his usual curt way of speaking was sharper than normal, but what he was upset about was the one thing he couldn’t figure out.

If anything, Dell was expecting Spy to be ecstatic from escaping that hell hole, that wasn’t without mentioning that he was finally out of that stuffy fridge. There were a lot of things Spy should be happy about. Grateful for.

Then again, Dell was no idiot. He can come up with as many excuses as he wanted to say that Spy was Jacques, that he was RED Spy. That Spy held any resemblance to Jacques.

That wasn’t the case, unfortunately.

Ripping a person from their lives always brought unforeseen consequences, even if the person in question has no memory of this event—should have no recollection. Forcing them into more unfamiliar territory always laid the way for more negative emotions to be brought out.

Both the RED and BLU team spies, no matter how often they labelled themselves as incoherent and erratic in their actions and words, will always be creatures of habit.

Jacques and Spy liked their routine, liked being familiar with people even when it would bring them nothing but trouble. They enjoyed that sense of accomplishment and even something as simple as praise; they would preen whenever they were complimented, like a flower catching the sun’s light. As much as they liked to say otherwise, they were human beings at the end of the day.

That wasn’t overlooking Spy’s familiarity with Scout, either.

Jacques and Jeremy never got along, that much was true and plain obvious. It was the kind of family drama that was usually resolved by standing on the sidelines as a bystander, and the kind of drama that Dell suspects would never be truly resolved besides mutual understanding.

Jacques was never, and would never, be the kind of pa that Jeremy wished he’d had growing up, and Jeremy would never be the type of son Jacques would ever be proud of. They would never be family, and that was alright, because life ain’t always that easy, and sometimes things don’t go the way a person expects.

Spy and Scout were different, though. They, and the rest of the BLU team, always had been. He supposed that was due to the way they were created, that the persons they were before could never be properly corrected out of them, no matter how often that cloning machine ran their brains through the save files to get rid of those old remnants.

It was just an unfortunate drawback that they even remember their old habits. That the classic team even has some semblance of their own selves.

Dell hadn’t wanted the clones to remember old habits and interests, didn’t want them familiarizing themselves with their past relationships, didn’t even want them to think they looked and acted like anything but clones. It was easier that way, if the clones couldn’t recognize they weren’t truly clones.

Yet, somehow, Spy took in Scout, Medic is still distancing himself from his team, Pyro is just as crazy as she always had been, and Heavy is just as steadfast in his decisions. That wasn’t accounting Demoman’s lack of drinking habits, and Soldier reacting to certain situations in a way that was most definitely not Jane. It was a shock to see just how calm the Soldier was at times.

He had to wonder if Soldier and Scout liked kids like how the classic teams Soldier and Scout did. It was a question he had when the first issues with their identity started to pop up. But it wasn’t any of his business anyway, he couldn’t do much about that flaw besides restart the whole cloning process over and erase the full remnants like he had for his pa, and even then that was a lengthy process that he isn’t sure he can recreate again.

Though, even with the bad habits coming along with their new selves—and maybe Dell really shouldn’t have used the classic team for this of all people—their good habits had probably come along with them.

Maybe the old Spy had some semblance of love for family, and that extends even to his current self now, because he knew that Jacques would throw a hissy fit if he ever found out that the BLU Spy loves Scout, that Scout will always be his son now.

Sure, those old selves weren’t the most shining example. Hell, they’d commit the worst atrocities on Dell and Humboldt if those old selves ever came back. But who was a good person in a world where pa’s are a problem to their sons, and generational trauma extends to even workers like Pauling who can’t help but want acknowledgement from their boss?

But, he supposed that’s just how life works out, that even the most unexpected things are always the most guaranteed to happen. Dell would know, there’s a lot of things that life has proven to him that were thought to be impossible before he joined under the Administrator’s thumb.

At the end of the day, Spy and Scout love each other, Jacques and Jeremy will never care about each other, and that was that. Two ways that life went with no point in wondering just how much Jacques and Jeremy’s lives would’ve changed had they been given excuses to care about each other.

That was neither here nor there now. Not when almost everyone has been killed by that goddamn mess of a creature.

“Now how do you expect to do that?!”

There were a lot of things life could throw at you, come to find out.

There are a lot of things he’s now come to expect working under the Administrator, a lot of ridiculous things he didn’t think possible until he met the RED team, and twenty impossible scenarios that’re reality when working with morally grey people.

The dead coming to life is apparently just a thing he should expect now. Men and women becoming immortal for the simple fact of greed is just another Monday. An underground network of all kinds of trafficking is just what happens.

Monsters? Sure, he added that to the list of “possible things” when the teleporter malfunctioned and gave life to bread.

Now, the hat company secretly manufacturing weaponry for governments and non-government alike was somewhat unexpected, admittedly.

Though an actual creature gifted from Satan himself is something Dell never expected.

It screamed towards the three men, yelling words that he could barely comprehend the meaning of, and laughing so thickly that he could hear the crack between them, wheezing from having run out of air that never seemed to end. It shouts, laughing and barking and speaking continuously without any reason for its meaning.

He? She? There were too many for him to count, its voices ringing in his ears, yelling and screaming and shouting and crying and laughing and-

And Dell could only feel dread staring at whatever the thing was in front of him.

Jeremy had died from his blood loss earlier—the boy having grown so pale from having run for so long, for having to exert himself in ways he never did before—and Dell wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or angry that he had died, that Jeremy wasn’t the one standing in front of this monster, or that he wasn’t the one standing in front of this monster.

But it didn’t matter how much he thought of Jeremy, about the way he, Tavish, and Jane were trapped, cornered by the thing that stared at the three of them. It stared, it smiled, it frowned, it cried, it held too many emotions for its too thick of a stringy body, melting by the seams like it was a toy left out in the heat for a minute too long.

When Dell’s hand trembled, he turned to face Jane, who merely grinned and Dell didn’t know what that smile meant. A lunatic, he was. Tavish appeared oblivious to the smile while keeping his grenade launcher near his chest, hugging the thing like a life line.

He didn’t know what to do, and he thought, in that single moment, that this was where things would end.

Truthfully, he didn’t really care about dying, if he did, he would’ve avoided working for the Administrator, and listened to his dad’s warning about the woman. Would’ve listened to his grandad. But he doesn’t care about the dying, the thing he cares about more is living too long. He cared that this thing seemed to be in such excruciating pain, begging for help from men who wouldn’t have even looked twice if this were a regular day, and now he felt he made a mistake coming to 2fort.

Does this thing die? Can it even die? He didn’t want to test that theory.

Except life has a funny way of throwing things back in Dell’s face, and the tiny step Jane had taken caused Dell’s eyes to widen. Soon after, Jane is practically running toward the monster as Dell lets out a startled sound at the action.

Crazy is one word for Jane, but he knew loyalty ran deep within the man.

Without saying a word, Jane gives them a salute. He hears a pop at his side and barely looks to see what it was because he knows what it was: that Tavish had made his own escape route, that Tavish understood what Jane was attempting to do. That he was honoring the man’s silent wish.

Dell grits his teeth, moving in the direction of the monster as he tries to manoeuvre himself to twist around it. His breathing grew labored and heavy, and his feet were hammering against the ground. Boots heavy and thick.

He tucks his legs under himself as he tumbles beneath the arms and legs that reach out for him—crying, telling him to stop, to keep moving, that he needed to get away, to not look at them, that they were hideous—pushing his leg forward to roll to a stand.

If Dell hadn’t been so completely, utterly terrified and attempting to flee, he would have winced and cringed at the way Jane’s bones crunched inside the monster’s gelatinous body.

It didn’t seem like Jane cared either way, though, not with the way he laughed at the snapping of tendons and bones, voice carrying over the noises of sobbing, crying, and giggling. He laughs, and it bounces around Dell’s skull, like there was nothing in Jane’s voice but pure joy. It was messy, it was horrific, and there weren’t any other ways he had expected Jane to go out.

Dell stumbles as he stands, pushing himself up too fast for his mind to keep up. He pushes through the sudden lightheadedness, using the wooden walls to support his body as he runs.

He doesn’t look back to see if Jane had made it; he knows the man wouldn’t have, and his feet pound noisily on the floor. His weight creaks the wooden planks, and his helmet loosens from his head. He keeps running.

He isn’t even sure where he’s running to, only that he’s running from the crying and the laughter, only that he’s taking Jane’s sacrifice as an opportunity. It would be a waste to let the man die without trying, and he runs and runs and runs.

He keeps running.

Dell is no runner; he is no man who hides; he is barely a man who stays silent when someone has done him wrong. He isn’t Jeremy, Jacques, nor Mikhail. He is a man who has done wrong and continues to do wrong.

But more than anything, he wants to live for a second longer. So he does.

He isn’t sure how long he had run for, only that he found himself in the familiar hallway where the infirmary was located. His feet carry him down the long hallway, arms waving in front of him to slow to a jog before he turns the corner to stop in front of the infirmary’s door.

He doesn’t stop to wonder why the door was hanging on a hinge, only that he’s pushing the door to the side to slide into the room. His feet skid to a stop while he pants heavily. He coughs on nothing, sucking in air for his poor lungs that couldn’t keep up with the adrenaline storming through him, as he bends over to catch the few breaths he can.

He could still hear that thing, even when he’s on the other side of the damn building. He wished these damn bosses of his weren’t so greedy, maybe then they could’ve built them a damn castle like Blutarch had for the other team; woulda saved him the trouble of runnin’ through this place looking for anywhere safe.

He coughs once more, wiping the sweat off himself before he walks further into the room, feeling too exposed with the door ajar. He wasn’t even sure if a lock would do anything against whatever the hell that thing was, but he knew he sure as hell would’ve felt miles better if he were moderately safe.

“Medic,” Dell tentatively calls out to the room, walking to the farthest end of the room while trying to keep his feet silent. He tried to swallow the urgency, but he knew it didn’t translate well with the way his gaze roved the room desperately. “Medic, Medic!”

He knew this wasn’t a thing he could just fix on his own; he knew that thing wasn’t made of metal, not with the way it cried and melted into the wood beneath it. Biology wasn’t a strong suit of his, and anything regarding the human body was definitely not a thing he was capable of. It was also not dying no matter how much Tavish tossed a bomb.

It didn’t die due to Pyro’s fire; Mikhail had only gotten caught by the thing, and Tavish’s bombs weren’t doing a damn thing to its body aside from causing its melting fat to spread itself. Dell’s gun hadn’t done jack to it, and he doubts that Jane’s rocket launcher would’ve done more than what Tavish’s bomb had done.

He moves through the infirmary, trying to look through the closet or the cabinets just in case the doctor had hidden himself. Just in case the doctor hadn’t been killed by whatever that thing is. Hadn’t gotten caught like Mikhail, Jane, Pyro-

“Hello?” Came a muffled voice.

He freezes.

There was silence, and his body stilled as he straightened himself. He looked behind himself to see if that monster had followed him, to see if that monster was nearby.

“I am assuming you are either Engineer or Spy trying to trick me, which is not appreciated after your last attempt. If you are Spy, you can kindly go eat shit.”

Dell’s brows furrow, and his gaze goes to the fridge where he swore he heard the voice from. There were only two Frenchmen on both teams, and Dell knew that voice. One of them was notorious for skulking around like a damn snake, and the other was equally infamous for being notably unable to because he was currently bodiless.

“But if you are Engineer, I’d appreciate getting some fresh air for once.”

…And it’s fairly obvious which of the two it was.

Dell doesn’t take a second longer to waltz towards the fridge, placing his hand against the handle as he lingered for a moment longer, waiting for the sign of that thing outside. When he hears it’s still on the other side of the building, he creeps the fridge door open, and he really should hesitate more because his curiosity will get the best of him some day.

“It really would do me wonders if one of you could install a light inside the fridge. It’s quite dark and cramped, not to mention cold.”

Spy blinks the sudden light out of his eyes, narrowing his gaze to look up at Dell with a smarmy smirk that had the Texan wondering if this was a mistake. He really should learn to be less nosy; that would’ve saved him a lot less trouble in life.

“Doubt we got time for that, snake.”

Spy raises a brow, as if to challenge his words. He does, in fact, challenge his words. “Are you sure? Because with the amount of trouble your team always seems to get into, I’d assume this would be an easy fix, no?”

Instead of making another snide comment, Dell stoops to meet the other man’s eyes. He remains silent and without any other facial expression, and Spy maintains his loose demeanor.

He doesn’t know why he initially opened the refrigerator. BLU Spy is most obviously not a life that Dell cares for, and it’s not like him to care for any other life besides the ones he should care about. If he did care about Spy, he would’ve let him reunite with the BLU team, so he doesn’t know why he didn’t just ignore him and leave him inside the fridge.

Perhaps he opened the refrigerator out of curiosity, or because he thought that being trapped with that monster would be worse than being forgotten in the fridge forever. He’s always been one to think out his actions before he acts on them, but this one seemed to come out of the blue, and maybe he’s simply becoming uneasy about the circumstances.

There’s a minute before Dell tilts his head. “Why should I let ya out? You’ve been nothin’ but a pain in my ass since you were cloned.” He questions, genuine curiosity in his tone.

“For starters, I know what that thing out there is.” Spy says, much to Dell’s surprise, though he doesn’t delve deeper into the admittance. “Secondly, you’ve been much more of a pain in my ass, what with the fact that you did create us, after all. You tend to be quite cruel to us for being my father.”

Dell sputters, shocked, as his eyes widen and his mouth gapes. “I ain’t your daddy, boy! I just put ya together ‘cause Medic asked- can ya take something seriously for once!”

Spy smiles toothily at Dell, who he really ought to have just ignored the Frenchman. In fact, if Spy didn’t know what’s going on—which shouldn’t be possible, it really just can’t be possible and he really doesn’t have a clue why he’s indulging in curiosity over reality—Dell would already be slamming the refrigerator shut and walking out.

After spending months imprisoned in this fridge, Spy suddenly knows what’s going on? Although Dell should avoid entertaining him, he’s equally aware of Spy’s level of expertise. Even without a body, he wouldn’t rule out Spy figuring out a way to obtain information.

Spy completely frustrates him, but Spy’s a manipulative asshole smart enough to speak his way out of a situation, and even if Dell had ignored him, he would’ve just escaped the fridge anyway. It makes him question why the man hadn’t already spoken his way out of the fridge. He’s got a sharp enough tongue to do so.

Dell’s frown deepens, and Spy’s grin stretches into a more victorious one, already knowing he’s won an imaginary debate. He bets Spy doesn’t even know what kind of overthinking he caused within Dell, just that he’s getting out of the fridge, and goddamn does this man irritate the hell out of him.

Reaching out to take Spy’s head, Dell grumbles out his words. “Ya better tell me what’s goin’ on, or I’m usin’ your ass as a sacrifice.”

“Cross my heart.”

As he stands up, he shoves Spy’s neck between his armpits and grabs him firmly enough for him to grunt. His bones moan with the movement, but he doesn’t stop, pausing to listen for the sounds of that thing rampaging within the base. He waits a moment longer, listening, and frowns when he hears the complete silence.

“Be quiet for this, I gotta focus and I don’t want to catch that thing’s attention.” He warns Spy, practically hissing.

Spy doesn’t respond, and to that, Dell is grateful that he wasn’t going to risk both their lives for another smart comment. He doesn’t stop to grab anything from inside Humboldt’s infirmary; there isn’t a point when, right now, his only goal is to get the hell out of this place.

Much more carefully, he moves to the door to creep past it, cautious, methodical, trying to prevent any sounds that’ll attract that thing towards him. He then takes another breath, a moment to actually breathe, just before he pushes his way past the door. Spy doesn’t say anything about the pounding of his heart; he doesn’t comment, and he prays the man doesn’t speak a lick of a word.

He peeks back into the hallway, looking to his left, then to his right, listening for any noises, anything to indicate that thing is near him. When there isn’t anything, he takes another breath and moves forward.

Spy is heavy in his grasp, and he shifts him ever so occasionally, making no note or apology whenever Spy grunts at the awkward angles. He doesn’t exactly care about how uncomfortable the man is. If anything, he would attach him to his hip if he had any rope. Better yet, just dangle the man upside down if there wasn’t a possibility he could die.

The Frenchman seems to have taken offense, though, and he could practically feel the beginnings of a smirk.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

A distant cry.

“For fuck-”

“What’re you thinking of?” Spy asks, barely even curious if his gaze to the stretching desert was a sign.

This is the second time that Dell’s thoughts are pulled from the monster by Spy. He really hoped this wouldn’t become a routine, or that the BLU Medic didn’t secretly install some mind reading software in the Frenchies brain.

If it were the latter, Dell saw no point in beating around the bush, so he answered honestly, because this will be his companion for the better part of a while, and any lies will only come back to bite him in the ass in the forthcoming future.

“About the monster; mostly about your creation, though.” Dell admits, now noticing that the song had switched to some more unknown one he’s never heard of before. How nice that life still goes on. “And that you’re different from RED’s Spy.”

“What of it?” He grumbles.

“That you like that boy, Scout. Truly like him. Love is a tough thing to come across in this type of field, ‘specially someone in your circumstances.”

It truly was, and Dell could show the receipts considering the type of dynamic he has… had with his own pops. Even now, when his own dad doesn’t remember the way his own face looks.

Love was a touch and go thing for Dell, and getting more than a handshake from his own pa was a rarity that he could count on one hand. So, in a way, how Spy is handling Scout deserves to be praised.

“Jeremy’s a good kid, and no doubt yours is, too. They’re troubled, but they’re good.”

“Having your identities stripped and altered does that.” Came his curt reply, when, abruptly, he speaks with a terse temper. “Do you have anything of importance to say, or are you going to tell me where we are going? Because I’d rather be trapped back in that fridge if you’re going to keep prattling about nonsense.”

There was the Jacques he’s come to get used to. No matter how different both the spies were, they will always have a short temper, and that is something that Dell has come to accept and understand. Cloning was never going to be a surefire thing, anyway.

“We’re going to the headquarters.” He tells him.

“What for?”

“Mostly, to see if the Administrator is still alive. After that, hell if I know. If she’s gone, can’t do much ‘bout that, if she’s alive, then…” Dell unwittingly sighs, pulling his hand across his head. “Honestly, I ain’t too sure what to do if she’s alive.”

The Gravel war had always been useless from the get go; fighting over chunks of land, who will get what, who deserves what. His family lineage proves that supporting uselessness and petty fights will always be a trait that runs in their genes.

That includes the Administrator.

While Dell never asked questions, he’s picked up things here and there that painted a not so pretty picture of the Administrator.

She’s a woman who does not want more than the toxic bite of an apple, the type of person who children were warned to stay away from, and the type of lady to have the words of a mother with the crude actions of a childhood home on fire.

She is someone who has lived longer than Dell’s own grandfather. She is someone who has hired the Conagher family like she was collecting cards.

She is someone who will cause the death of the Conagher family, and who will potentially be the death of everyone back in that base; the death of the RED team, and the death of the BLU team.

If Engineer weren’t so invested in her survival—because her dying would be a waste of materials and time and knowledge—he would’ve run a long, long time ago. Even when he now knows running is fruitless.

“Leave her for dead.” Spy bluntly replies.

“Hold your tongue, son. That’s your boss you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” Despite the bite in his voice, his expression was more hesitant than it was demeaning. He didn’t believe his own words. “She pays me to keep her alive, and I ain’t one to back out.”

“You’re an idiot for trying to keep her alive.”

Barely giving a reaction, Dell doesn’t reply, unable to give the bodiless man an answer. What could he say to that, anyway? That Dell was on a contract, and that if he didn’t fulfil said contract, he’d be killed for it? That his granddad was under the same contract, and even his own dad, who was still ultimately under the same contract even now when he wasn’t himself anymore?

No, Dell doesn’t have an answer for that, so he remains silent.

From the corner of his vision, he sees Spy eyeing him. There’s a moment as he makes a face before he sighs deeply, looking back outside of the window from the little view he had of outside.

“Alright, let’s just forget about that for a moment and recuperate ourselves.” Dell looks over at Spy while he speaks before focusing back on the road, ignoring just how confused he felt that Spy was being cordial. “What do we know of those creatures, and how fucked are we all?”

Yeah, that sounds more like Spy.

“I know jack all.” Dell starts, sighing through his nose as his hand white knuckles the steering wheel. “I heard some noise from outside, went to have a peek to see if Pyro was gettin’ in anything, and ended up finding Pyro and Scout curled in a shed after getting attacked by that thing. After that, ran into Soldier, Demo, and Scout. I haven't seen heads or tails of Demo and Scout since we got separated after that thing got Soldier.”

Spy hums, and as if it wasn’t a big deal, he spoke in a calm manner. “Medic created those monsters.”

Quick, easy with the confession, like it wasn’t the most unbelievable-believable thing he’s said.

Dell’s eyes widened and he slammed his foot onto the brake not a second later, causing Spy’s head to tilt over as he exclaimed in alarm.

“Watch it!” Hissed Spy.

He ignores the warning as stared at the road, equal parts confused and disbelieving. He wasn’t sure if what Spy had said was correct or not, if Spy’s blatant statement was something to catch him off guard or if the French man was trying to stir something between his team.

He stays silent, trying to process what Spy had said as he stared at the blinding sky. The steering wheel creaks from the amount of pressure he put in it, his eyes going from the sky to the road to the man beside him.

He wouldn’t put it past Humboldt to have been the cause of those things, wouldn’t have even batted an eye because this wasn’t the first time he and Humboldt created monstrosities before.

But that thing was no bread monster or zombie, or even a clone.

“What?” Dell asked a minute later.

Now tilted on the side of his head, Spy rolls his eyes like he isn’t the most vulnerable thing on the planet. Like Dell isn’t capable of throwing him out the car door and ditching him for the vultures.

“Medic created those things.”

“Your Medic?”

“For God sake, you’re not an idiot, Humboldt created those things.”

In an attempt to slow down his frantic heart, Dell closes his eyes, taking deep, lung filled breaths. It was a feeble attempt to divert attention from the topic, the reality that Humboldt had worked behind everyone’s backs to create this hellish monster that killed Pyro.

“Either he had forgotten I was in that fridge or didn’t care, it doesn’t negate that he was in contact with a man for months and had been hired to create them.” Spy continued like he doesn’t notice the inner turmoil of Dell, or maybe he does and doesn’t care. Maybe. “Spy, or Jacques—really, it’s too confusing that both teams have the same titles—anyway, Jacques is aware, or at least somewhat, aware of this, and I have to assume Heavy- Mikhail knew this was going to happen.”

It only got worse the more he spoke. Mikhail had known this was going to happen, Jacques had been somewhat aware, and Humboldt had created those things. Shit.

Dell gave Spy a grimace, frowning deeply. “You’ve been spending too much time with Scout.” If Jacques were given the opportunity, would he speak this much?

Spy sighs, deep and grumbly. He gives Dell a long glare like he was looking at something stupid, and, well, there’s Jacques coming through this clone’s personality.

“Humboldt. Did. This.”

He had barely escaped from that mess back in the base, he couldn’t even be sure if anyone had survived in the time he’s left to now. Other than the fact that monster was loose and running around without a leash or owner in sight, he had no idea what was going on.

“Pyro’s gone, Mikahil’s gone, damn sure Tavish didn’t last after he flung himself out the window,” Dell manages to say without a single croak in his tone, taking another deep breath to shake off the trembles in his body. “Jane leapt into that thing, Mick’s still kickin’ I’m bettin’, hell if I know what happened to Jacques, and Jeremy’s…”

He didn’t explicitly state that he didn’t care what happened to the boy after Pyro was sacrificed. He couldn’t care less about preserving the mindset of an adult, so it wasn’t to keep Spy from learning that the original Jeremy probably kicked it. He was just reluctant to say it aloud because it seemed like a horrible thing to wish on a younger man who was simply afraid.

Surviving is worse than dying, after all.

Dell was sure he would make that same decision as well against that thing, and he was sure he would choose between the more useful and the ones closest to him then the ones already caught. Hell, he was sure he would’ve done that exact same thing had he watched Mikhail be killed in front of him.

But Pyro is gone, and there is no reversing that because that thing can’t even be killed or harmed with guns. So, Dell can’t help the bitterness, can’t help the hatred, the spite, because Dell is nothing short of a man who follows morals like rules because that’s what society deems is normal.

Dell’s breathing had gone heavy, and he was sure that at this point, his laboured breathing was caused from growing panic rather than his own voluntary breathing.

Spy, gratefully, took this switch in topic for what it is. “And my team?”

“Dead, alive. How faithful are you to their chances?”

The spy's silence was telling.

“I’d settle that only half of ya’ll survived. Maybe the other half tried to protect each other, I don’t know and I don’t care. We’re getting to the damn headquarters and figuring out what we're going to do later.”

“Then let’s start with turning me upright and you getting to driving.”

Dell hadn’t realised his hand had gone to his forehead, prying his face away from the steering wheel to Spy who was still on his side. He looked up at Dell with a frown that seemed to forever be crested in his expression—thoughtful—and the Texan managed another sigh. He needs to remain calm.

With his hands clasped over Spy’s ears, he leans over to grasp his face, running his fingers over the Frenchman’s pointed features and the feel of the skin beneath the ski mask. If Dell wasn’t aware that Spy was quite literally deathless in his bodiless form, he would’ve assumed that Spy hadn’t been fed much during his stay in Humboldt’s fridge. Which he supposed would be the case seeing as, without a body, Spy wouldn’t be able to eat.

Sitting the man’s head upright, and aligning him back against the car seat, he turns back to the road as he presses a pedal down. The car grumbled, coughing out fumes, just before the horrible thing had even moved an inch yet, and by the time it had gotten going, he was sure it was going to break down in the next few seconds.

Of course, it didn’t, but the thing was just a terrible machine overall.

“If we end up seeing Miss Pauling, what do you suppose we say to her?” Spy questions, and good God this man likes to chatter.

“How’s ‘bout we play the quiet game.”

“These are understandable questions from my point of view, Dell.” Spy says his name like a slur. “I hadn’t seen outside in months, and I’d like to be kept up with what’s been happening since being stuck inside Humboldt’s refrigerator.”

“I thought you spies enjoyed the quiet game.”

“I thought you engineers enjoyed talking someone’s head off.”

“That’s a scouts job.”

“Oh, my apologies then, I suppose I was just too busy stabbing you in battle to ever care if you had anything important to say. Maybe a whole engineer’s job is never looking behind themselves.”

Dell frees a hand from the steering wheel and clenches it tight, wanting to so desperately throw Spy out of his car, or at the very least flinging his head to the back of the trunk and tying his mouth shut. Given how much of a hindrance he has been so far, the man certainly deserves it.

He doesn’t do either of those, instead letting the tension stew thick in the air.

“If it’ll put your mind at ease, I’ll just give her a call, then.” Muttered Dell.

He knows it certainly would put his mind at ease.

From the corner of his vision as he leans over to open the glove compartment, he sees the other man blink incredulously, like he hadn’t expected for Dell to play along with his mockery. He wouldn’t have if this were any other day, but seeing as this was Pauling, he knew he had to check in with the young lady at some point.

Even if she were his manager, at the end of the day, she was still a kid who ended up being in charge at a far too young of an age, and that, Dell thinks, is something he feels the need to watch over her for.

He also feels like she needs to be assured that at least one of the RED team is still kicking, especially if, from what he’s assuming, she had watched almost everyone be killed by those monsters. Watching that would more than likely stick with her for more than a few weeks. Especially when considering that she looked at everyone on the RED team as friends, even when she vehemently denies it.

Pulling out the brick like phone, he leans it over the steering wheel, and like instinct, presses the numbers for her phone. If there was one good thing that Dell was grateful for after being… forcefully hired by the Administrator, it’s that phone lines, equipment, and technology were more advanced than any other parts of the world.

Which meant no one would listen to his phone calls, and no one had access to the data of his own technology he invented. That included his pa and his grandad. Inventions only meant for his and a few eyes to see. It felt special, in a way. Better than the majority of those other science companies.

After entering the final few numbers, he clicked the call button and held the phone up to his ears while he waited for the ringing to stop. He hears a single click, the phone being taken up, but he doesn’t glance at Spy. He waits for a few seconds, wondering if he had gotten the proper number, and a few more seconds pass of this stillness.

“Hello?” Came Pauling’s hesitant voice.

He lets himself smile at hearing her voice. ”Good to hear from you again.”

There was another few seconds, before spluttered words came from the other end, as a shuffling noise was heard as if she had straightened herself from shock. “Engie- Dell! Are you- you’re okay? I mean, I, um, Engineer, how’re you- I- I can’t believe you’re- and- oh my God, I need to tell you something, it’s important, it’s about those- those monsters. You called at the right time, you know that? I was speaking with Bidwell, he said the- the monsters attacked Mann Co, and they asked for TF Industries help, and there is just so much I can’t tell you right now, but please, if possible, meet up with me-”

“Pauling, sweetheart, ya ain’t makin’ sense right now, I need ya to breathe right.” Dell placates her, trying to ignore that little voice in the background of his mind that Pauling had also spent too much time around Jeremy and picked up his habit of talking.

His mind always seemed to come back to Jeremy and Pyro, and now he was kind of wishing for Spy’s interruption again, or at least had the ability to read minds like he was musing earlier, because the mockery would be better than the bitter and pure disdain for Jeremy at the moment.

Pauling takes a deep breath after a few seconds of silence. “Okay, okay.”

“Good job,” He wagers that she’s preening with the praise, though now comes the difficult part. Dell made an effort to keep the worry out of his voice so Pauling wouldn’t know that he shared her level of concern. If not more so. “You said Mann Co was attacked?” 

Given that Mann Co. was attacked, it’s likely that the headquarters were as well, and Dell is unsure of what will happen next. What he’s going to do next. Saxton Hale is one of the world’s strongest men, one of the most powerful and resourceful ones even when he acts like an incompetent oaf on a good day.

He knew those monsters were strong, he had to be an idiot if he thought he could go head to head with that thing if it killed even Mikhail.

If Saxton Hale couldn’t stop those creatures, then what else could?

Spy’s eyes enlarge in shared terror and shock, but he keeps his focus on Pauling’s words. At least she was safe, she wasn’t in danger, and even if the pressure was starting to get to her, she wasn’t dead, unlike Pyro. She was still alive, and that’s what mattered right now.

“Yes, yeah, I…” she takes another deep breath, continuing to speak after a moment or so. “BLU Medic updated me… yesterday. Afternoon. He said he was going to try to figure something out on his end. Originally, my plan was to head to the base to see who I can scavenge from out of there, see if there was anything of value to take back, maybe some investigation into this before nuking that whole base, but the remaining BLU and REDs decided to meet me in the town instead.”

Dell stroked the stubble on his chin and blinked delicately. Well, BLU Medic and a few of his teammates were still alive. His team is still alive, so he shouldn’t be as startled and relieved as he is right now. It’s a miracle in and of itself that at least one Medic had made it out, and one Medic that hadn’t betrayed them.

“So’re you headin’ to the town now?” Dell asked, letting himself frown.

“Right now I’m waiting for Bidwell and Saxton Hale to pick me up. They said they’ll pick me up and drop me off in the townsite, just as long as you guys are up to working for Mr. Hale for a while.”

“Do you mean he’s hiring us?”

Pauling sighed. “I really didn’t want to accept the offer, but he’s also one of TF industries main benefactors, I can’t not reject his offer. Besides, the… the Mann brothers are, um, out of… commission.”

“Commission?”

“…Dead?”

Dell’s jaw fell ajar, paling. “The Mann brothers are dead?!”

“What?!” Spy barks from his side, and Dell abruptly realises that Spy was still in the car with him. “How’re the Mann brothers dead?!”

“What? Who was that? Whose with you right now?”

Sighing through his nose, he exhaustedly wipes his face. Looking back at Spy and slowly shaking his head. He’ll tell him whatever he needs to after, but right now, he needs to get information out of Pauling.

“It’s just Spy, Pauling.” Before Pauling could interrupt with her concerns that Spy shouldn’t be listening to their conversations, he brazenly continues. They didn’t have time for hesitancy right now. “I ain’t risking company secrets when there’s no company right now, so y’need to tell me what happened to the Mann brothers, what’s happening to the teams, and what happened to Mann Co.”

Pauling lets out a shaky breath. “Okay, um, the Mann brothers were killed by someone named Grey Mann. I- I don’t know who that is, but they’ve been- Dell, they’ve been dead for a year. I don’t know who I was speaking to, who I was talking to during that time, the assistants were- I don’t know what I shared, and I shared so much company secrets, or- or if I disappointed Helen or if I-”

“I need you to breathe, Pauling. We ain’t in danger right now, but this is important. I need you to tell me about Grey Mann.”

Dell was aware of Grey Mann; in fact, a little more than four years ago, the elderly man contacted him regarding plans involving the excavation of his grandfather’s grave. What was it about again? It was something that involved robots that ran on money as fuel.

Dell wasn’t particularly interested in the plan because it involved disturbing his granddad’s grave and ensuring that the blue prints he was buried with would be seen by the light of day, which was the exact opposite of what the Conagher family patriarch desired. It was also just a flat out ridiculous plan, because, really, what kind of machine runs on money as fuel?

Maybe he should’ve just accepted the deal since it came to bite him back in the ass.

“Mann Co accepted a deal with him some years ago, and, well, apparently the silicone gel he was buying off them was just the thing to create those monsters. I- I think that, the town, it’s, I think the towns dangerous, but I need to go, Dell, I need to go to the town-”

“Hold on now, hold on, slow down.” Dell interrupts her mid spiral. “Ya ain’t stupid, I know ya ain’t, so why’re ya headin’ to a monster infested town? You wouldn’t walk into stupid and dangerous situations because you’re worried ‘bout someone.”

Pauling remained silent, and Dell pressed for answers.

“I know you ain’t headin’ to town for that boy of yours, either—”

“It’s not like that—”

“So either you’re headin’ to town because you got something you’re hiding, or you’re headin’ there because you’re desperate, and I know ya ain’t that desperate to walk blindly into some monster infested town.”

“I, um, I can’t really say-”

“Company secrets?”

Pauling doesn’t reply, and he sighs.

Pauling was stubbornly, sincerely, and foolishly loyal to the Administrator despite her fondness for the entire RED team, including her tendency to have a bit of a high school girl crush on Jeremy, and to cry on Dell’s shoulder whenever the pressure became too intense. When work seemed to pile up for days, and she would babble about her need to do better because what was she without her work?

She was just a kid, a kid with unresolved past trauma, and a frequent tendency to linger around those who praise her with the slightest of compliments.

Dell wished he had found Pauling first, because then she wouldn’t be so loyal to such a petty cost.

“I just want ya to be careful, sweetheart.” Dell admits when the silence stretches for too long. “Don’t go over your head just yet, will you? I’d like to see you live for a long while.”

“Okay…” She confirms in her smallest voice, like a kid who was trying to learn about the cruel world and was told to not wander too far.

“Please, Pauling. I ain’t- Pyro’s… please.”

“I won’t, Dell, I won’t. But you’ve… you have to trust me, okay? I… there’s something I need from Teufort. It’ll help.”

Dell pinches his lips, and he tries to understand her point of view, tries to ignore just how choking the worry is for another person’s life, just how much he wants to keep her safe because this situation isn’t like all those other times, because a person can’t die.

And yet he’ll have to trust her judgement, because he can’t stop her no matter what.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“Thank you, Dell.”

“I can’t meet with you since I’m headin’ to the headquarters right now, but I trust that you’ll give me more information later?”

“I will. If- if you see the Administrator, can you… it’s, um, just tell her I’m still investigating this, and that I’ll try to fix whatever this thing is.”

Dell swallows a disappointed sigh. She won’t be able to fix this no matter how much she runs around hoping for a solution, and he assumes she’s doing this for the Administrator alone, not out of some need to save those around her. It’s difficult to understand why she would throw herself into dangerous situations out of “duty.” Then again, Dell has never been one for loyalty, either.

“I will. Stay safe, sweetheart.”

There was a click from the other end, and Dell tries to push away the creeping dread that Pauling was heading to a dangerous monster-ridden town. He isn’t even sure what she’s attempting to find there, if she’ll find whatever or whoever she’s looking for.

But he needs to trust her for now.

Looking at Spy, the man gives him an aghast look.

“Why the hell are the Mann brothers dead?”