The Strongest of Us (Tf2 x Reader)

18. Fair Thee Well Young One!

(2rd person p.o.v.)

You woke up groggily, blinking your eyes open with much exhaustion behind them, almost completely forgetting where you were... hang on, this wasn't your bed. This wasn't the base.

You were back in Ireland, face down into a countertop. You lift your head, looking around. Well, this is odd... you usually didn't dream. The place you had "woken up" in was the Green Horse Tavern, your uncle's pub, and it was unusually empty. You could hear the soft tick of the broken coocoo clock in the corner. The clock itself still worked, surprisingly, just not the coocoo bird. It was broken during a game of drunken darts many many years ago. You didn't want to know how the game went, so you never asked about it.

You rub the back of your head as the drowsiness slowly left your vision and something- rather someone- caught your eye. You'd cry if it actually was real. The orange hair, green plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves, by God, the handlebar mustache. It was Ivan.

"Oh, good. Yer up," he quietly chuckled, "If you didn't wake up on time, I was gonna pour a bucket of ice water on ya!" You smiled brightly at this. He was exactly how you remembered him, always teasing you when he didn't have to pretend that you were just a regular customer in the bar. That's how he showed his love, by messing with you. He knew when to do it and how to do it; he was the master, but that didn't matter right now. You were just happy to see him.

"How'd I get here, exactly?" You questioned, curious to see what your dream uncle would come up with. "You fell asleep at th' counter. I didn't want ta wake yah, since yah barely get enough sleep as it is in that hayloft of yers," he huffed, grabbing one last dirty cup from the counter and beginning to clean it with a crisp, white towel. Other things troubled your mind as you recalled what he had said before, "What did you mean by 'if I didn't wake up on time?' I don't remember to have set a proper alarm clock," You asked. "I'll show yah in a minute. Go wait for me outside," Ivan said before disappearing into the back, pushing through the kitchen door.

You raised an eyebrow, but shrugged, hopping off of your seat and walking to the front entrance. Without hesitation you pushed past the pub doors and you actually woke up this time. You really woke up.

You shot up from your seat, hair a mess and looking around your bouncing room. It took you a moment, again, to realize where you were. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you reminisced the morning. What had happened was this: Mundy waking you up before the buttcrack of dawn, you getting dressed and packing your bags full of really warm clothing, brushing your teeth and other morningly activites, having a few bites to eat, then tiredly loading into Mundy's camper van with Misha then riding to victory into the hot morning sun before passing out at Mundy's dinner table, right across from a few, open, XxGirl magazines. Any of that ring a bell? Of course, it doesn't.

You made a disgruntled noise, confused and not even panicked at this point, slowly getting up and letting your body figure out on its own that it was God damn freezing now. There was quiet chattering from the two front seats as you went to find a blanket. With your unsuccessful hunt in the process, you end up just pulling down Mundy's comforter from his "too small to fit him" bed.

You huffed your way up to the front seat, "Well, sweet baby Jesus, do any of yah know how to turn the bloody temperature up?" Both Misha and Mundy were wearing parkas and neither of them looked surprised from your reaction, even if your Irish accent had popped out a few seconds ago, for the first time, mind you. "Heater's busted," Mundy said. You had to do a double take, realizing that you could actually see the white puffs of his breath on the air. It was thick and hazey, like cigarette smoke, but disappeared like a fine mist. Man, it really was cold, huh?

You all were no longer in the desert. The ground was covered in a shimmering white powder that looked cold to the touch. "Just... how long have I been asleep?" You whispered, huddling the blanket closer to you, your teeth chattering as you spoke. "Twelve hours, luv," Mundy responded. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull from how wide they went. "Well, why tha fuck did you two not wake me?" You slapped Misha on the arm with the back of your hand, making him grunt and flinch, and you were about to hit Mundy until he raised one hand up to stop you. "Neva hit your droiver, young miss," he sniffed. You let your hand stop and go back to pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders.