In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Thirty-Two: Oh, Right, It's October

        "Long time no see, Fredrickson," Miss Pauling says. I jolt awake and sit up on the couch, groaning as I lay back down.

"I don't want to be here." I turn over and face the inside of the couch. She sits in her usual spot on the armchair.

"No one really cares about what you do and don't want at this point, Fredrickson. You're going to learn that quick at the fort, especially if his name is Sniper."

I lift myself onto an arm and turn my head to look at her, slitted eyes as I put my hair out of the way of my face. "The fuck does that mean?" She puts her hands up and shrugs, looking past me into the kitchen. I turn around, met with the barrel of a gun. Sniper stands with it to my forehead, and I tap it. "Do it."

"We don't always get what we want, Fredrickson," Miss Pauling sighs. "Not even me."

He cocks it and shoots her dead before he hits me across the face instead, causing me to roll off the couch. He slowly walks around grunting, stepping on my arm and chest. I can't breathe, and I can feel my ribcage about to cave. Sniper stands on me, a hand over his neck as he shakily pulls the trigger. Flinching my head to the side, I inhale sharply and look up at him aiming further over to the side. I take my other hand and wrap around his knees, causing him to fall. Air quickly fill my lungs as I snatch the gun away and rise to my feet. Sniper reaches into his vest and pulls out a tin like Spy's, smoke fading from his body.

George lays on the floor, grinning like a menace. Sniper grabs me from behind and puts his hand over my mouth as he puts his kukri to my neck. I stop struggling and stare at George with wide eyes that have tears threatening to fall. Sniper's body is warm, a false sense of security. I place my hands over his as I feel his breath on my cheek. His arms are rough and hairy, muscles tensed as he holds me. There's a moment of calm as we all stay stationary, unsure of what'll happen.

Sniper slits my throat.

I slowly open my eyes, out of breath, as Heavy sits at my desk. I lift my head and wipe my eyes, feeling my heartbeat in my temples. The Russian rumbles as he rubs his chin. "I am sorry. Perhaps family tradition was not correct for you and Sniper."

I pant to regain some air. It's been a while since I had a nightmare about Vanguard. Sniper hasn't been in any of my dreams after that night. Hell, it's been a while since I've had a purgatory dream with Miss Pauling. I kinda had a theory that I only get those if I'm about to die. What's going to happen later today, then? "I'm sorry that I woke you."

"We are all learning," he gently says. "Maybe you should go talk to him in tower. Alone."

The clock almost reads three in the morning. Problems like this can't keep being "dealt" with later. Heavy goes back to his room as I slip on sneakers to traverse across the courtyard. Walking around in a tank top and shorts isn't much of an issue in this heat. Coyotes howl from beyond the fort walls, and the wind whistles as it passes through the scaffolding of Sniper's tower. The metal steps tap each time my foot lands, the queasiness in my bloodstream increasing with each time I circle onto a new landing. Something pulls me to go back down and make a visit to Engie instead, given that Engie doesn't set me off and cause me to get physical with him. Not yet, anyway. I hope he doesn't.

Sniper opens the door for me when I knock. "Freddie."

"Sniper," I say back, staying on my feet when offered to sit down and crossing my arms to hold myself.

"Need something, Luv?" He asks as he checks his watch. "Well, I'd assume you need something if we're awake at this time of night."

"I'm sorry for hitting you."