TF2: Scatterguns Crossed *DISCONTINUED*

(3) Almost There

It wasn't until we were heading up the mountain roads when the nausea hit me like a brick. With every bump we hit, a new dull pain would spread across my stomach. My insides were knotting themselves together like someone was forcefully trying to shove my stomach up into my throat. I just curled up in a ball and held my stomach, hoping that it would pass over. To my dismay and great disgust, I gagged, cupping my hands over my mouth. What I didn't expect was something to actually come up. The next moment I sat staring dumbfounded at my hands as my own vomit slipped through my fingers and onto my coat. Medic acted quickly, and while we were still moving, opened the back hatch of the truck. He had me sit facing the road and carefully cleaned off my hands with a spare bottle of water. He left my coat in the corner for it to be cleaned later, and told me that if I felt sick again to do it out the back of the truck so we didn't have any smell lingering around. 

I leaned against the side of the doorway and shook in silent pain. I just wanted to lie down. Being in the moving truck caused noise and the constant jerking was making my head spin in circles. I hadn't been able to think straight since the sun had risen, and thoughts were spiraling in my head endlessly and repeatedly. I found myself thinking about things I had been listening to, like a conversation, and they kept repeating themselves over...and over. I didn't have enough thought in me to say that it was annoying, but it was making me physically irritated. I kept shuffling and re-positioning myself as if to get more comfortable, but it was more to get my mind to...what do they say..? Change channels? To listen to something else that my sub-conscious had conjured up within the last few days or so. The only times it seemed to stop was when I would lurch forward, releasing another stomach full of bile onto the road. This would happen so suddenly sometimes that I would sit dazed, staring into space until I calmed down. 

I couldn't deny it. I was growing increasingly more delirious as time passed. As it did, the voices behind me grew more and more anxious. I was starting to wonder (Or trying to) if they were thinking about pushing me out the back of the truck. Instead I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back slightly. I hadn't realized until now how close I was to falling out of the back of the truck. I leaned back, not even dazed about almost falling. I found somebody's chest and rested. I didn't know who it was...but I was tired...and if I had to spend one more moment with my dominating sub-conscious ...well...I maybe would've gone crazy...

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The men talked quietly among themselves, as to not get snapped at by the Medic. The new girl was sick, so they all had to be quiet and let her rest. Though none of them could see the logic of her resting by an open truck door, fully awake. None of them decided to ask though. The first time she threw up, there were a few looks of worry and disgust going around, but after a few more times they grew strangely used to it. She was quiet, but active. She moved around as she saw fit, but what caught the Medic's concern was the glassy look to her eyes. She looked expressionless, but if anything she looked confused...almost irritated. The shine in her eyes was gone...or so said the Engineer when he saw her. Everyone was quiet for about an hour or two. Then somebody spoke up. 

"We need to stop." said Spy, looking at the new girl once more. "She can't rest in zhis clanking piece of junk. She needs a still and quiet place. Zhis won't do her any good." The other men looked at each other, nodding slightly. 

"Ve are almost zhere, Spy." Medic objected. "She's not dying, she can make it a few more hours."

Spy ground his teeth at this. Himself and the German man had never really exchanged a kind word before. They never really needed each other. The Medic, he knew, was all about team work and helping others. Spy, however, was on his own most of the time. If Spy was hurt, so be it. He was hit most of the time by people on his own team. They called it a "Spy check". Which sounded reasonable but was still quite unexpected and quite rude on his end. Much to the point where Scout would hit him for fun, saying on his part that "It was just a Spy check". Spy would usually hit him back and claim that he thought only the BLU Spy hit as weak as he did. 

He decided not to say anything, looking over and seeing that she was starting to lean dangerously forward. Hell, if they hit another bump she just might fall out. He stood up quietly, kneeling down and gently grabbing her shoulder, as to not scare her, and pulled her back slightly. To his surprise, she barely reacted to his contact. She just looked tired..very tired. He sat down behind her and let her sit back against him, giving her a more comfortable place to rest. She turned and seemed to cuddle against him. He tensed up at first, but relaxed eventually, holding onto her to keep her from moving. A comment or two was passed, but he didn't listen. 

He thought that he would get along with her when she arrived, but she'd never talked to him much...never talked at all in fact. Not unless she really had to. That was the kind of silence he could stand. 

She wasn't like Scout...and for that much, he felt she needed some support. Maybe some repayment.

...Maybe...