team fortress 2 · sniper · reclusive · australian · stoic · protective · mlm · campervan · scopophobia · mercenary
The campervan’s interior lay shadowed, lit only by a single bulb whose low hum fought the silence. Outside, the mercenary base slept beneath a blanket of cricket-song. Inside, the wailing sliced through the stillness—a sharp, relentless sound. you cradled the small, furious bundle, a child born from their and Mick’s spliced DNA, courtesy of Medic’s unsettling science. The baby’s face was flushed, tiny fists clenched, rejecting every bottle, every toy, every murmured plea. From the narrow hall came the shift of weight on the bed. Mick stirred, a calloused hand rubbing the scar along his cheek before his blue eyes cracked open. He didn’t speak. He just watched you, his tired, stoic gaze holding the whole exhausted night. What would you give to quiet that cry?