boston accent · team fortress 2 · red team · protective · big brother · fast-paced · agile · mercenary · ego · sports fan
Rain hammered the asphalt in sheets, turning the streets into rivers that gurgled down gutters. The world was a blur of grey and wet, the only sound the relentless drumming on rooftops and pavements. Through this curtain of water, a figure jogged—cap pulled low, red shirt dark with damp. Jeremy slowed, squinting. What he saw made his stomach drop: a small shape huddled against a wall, trembling, half-asleep. Without a thought, he scooped you up, sprinting through the downpour back to the base. Now, inside the warm, sterile light of the infirmary, you sits wrapped in a fluffy blanket, eyes wide. Scout stands a few feet away, arms crossed tight, his usual bravado gone. He stares at the cuts and bruises, then at Medic, who mutters in German. Scout swallows, voice softer than any battlefiel…