A/N: Just want to explain something beforehand. It's stated multiple times throughout this chapter that they "attended a training academy." It's not exactly what it seems, because, well... they're all somewhat insane. More will be explained in the third chapter or so.

Also, I use a lot of swearing, simply because Scouts seem like the type to cuss profusely. Sorry if anyone's offended in any way.

Anyway, hope you enjoy~

Disclaimer: I don't own Team Fortress 2. It belongs to Valve.

"You ready?"

The familiar voice of the RED Sniper rang through Nate's ears, breaking his focus on the closed gate before him. The RED team stood in a row, more excited than nervous about the battle about to take place. The mission was simple—infiltrate the enemy base and retrieve their Intel while protecting your own. It had to be quick and efficient. There was only one Class that could achieve both.

Nate looked to his right and up into the Sniper's orange-tinted glasses. He took one hand off his scattergun and lifted his cap slightly, ruffling his brown inch-long hair. He flashed his trademark smirk. His deep blue eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"I'm a Scout," he stated matter-of-factly in his Bostonian accent, "I'm always ready." The Sniper scoffed, returning his smirk with a small grin.

"Sure," Steve mocked in his Australian slur, "Just stay outta my scope." Nate's smirk widened as the countdown began, returning his gaze to the gate.

"You won't even see me."

The gate finally opened. The battle began.

Shit. This wasn't in the plan.

It was four days ago that they'd managed to kill BLU's Sniper. Now usually, it took a good two weeks to replace a Class, and even then it wasn't guaranteed. It just depended on how well the Class was doing in their respective training academy.

Apparently they'd had a back-up.

Nate was so sure that they wouldn't have a Sniper on the BLU team that he didn't hesitate in jumping across the high scaffolding of their base and onto the roof of the bridge that spanned the small waterway. Thankfully, luck was on his side. A bullet whizzed by, so close to his left ear that for a moment he was deaf. It took him a second to realize he'd been just inches away from being the victim of a headshot.

"Fuck!" He swore out loud when he spotted the Sniper aiming his rifle for another shot. He aborted his previous intention of jumping to the BLU base's second floor and dove off the roof into the waterway. He'd done this many times before. In fact, more often than not he was forced to jump off. Sure, going through the sewer was annoying as hell, but it was rare for him to encounter an enemy down there. They were more focused on defending the main route than bothering with a place they were sure no one would go.

Nate gasped as he broke the surface, coughing and screwing his eyes shut in an attempt to get the dirty water out of his system. As he did so, he was vaguely aware of the blue blur that swam past him and into the RED base's sewer line. He didn't have to look twice to know it was BLU's Scout.

Brennan. That was his name. He wasn't Nate's friend or acquaintance. The only reason Nate knew of him was because they'd attended the same training academy. They'd both been at the top—ran the fastest, trained the hardest, received the most praise. But they'd never spoken to each other. Not once. Because Brennan was always just one stride ahead of him no matter how hard he tried. He was an obstacle with a name and nothing more.

But then he was gone. Vanished. Disappeared as if from all existence. At first Nate assumed he'd been shipped off to fight for the RED team and cursed himself for not trying harder to beat him—it was only the best Scout that actually got to battle, and clearly he wasn't the best. But there was no report from the academy that Brennan had gotten into the ranks. No words. No rumors. He was just… gone. Nate had felt a sense of loss then, because he'd gotten what he wanted—to be at the top—and yet, he didn't feel like he deserved that position.

It was a few days later that Nate was told he'd be joining the actual team—and also where Brennan had gone. It was something whispered amongst the trainers—how if Brennan hadn't left RED's academy, they wouldn't have even considered Nate for the position of RED's Scout. When Nate inquired what had happened to Brennan, his outlook completely changed.

Brennan had transferred to BLU's training academy. They'd cut him a "better deal."

And that's when Brennan the obstacle became Brennan the traitor. The selfish asshole who'd do anything for a bit of cash. Nate's rival. He swore to himself that one day he'd fight Brennan one-on-one. And he would win, because fuck if he was going to let a backstabber beat him.

But for now, he wouldn't. Nate knew from past experiences of trying to chase Brennan that he was still just slightly faster. There was no use. No. For now, he would stick to his objective.

He swam over to the BLU's sewer entrance, heading off in a sprint the moment he found his footing. Water splashed out behind him each time his feet stomped down onto the metal surface of the pipe. The sound of droplets hitting hollow steel echoed loudly—loud enough to be heard far into the battlefield, but the noise of screams and gunshots drowned it out enough to not be noticed. The sewer wound right, then left, then another left past a small alcove and down a straightaway. Two sets of stairs led up into the base.

Nate stopped there, pressing himself against the wall by the large opening where cement floor became dirt. He waited, listening for the calls of the BLU team within the fort; for approaching footsteps; but mostly for the beeping of a sentry. Those things were fucking annoying, not to mention lethal. He'd seen firsthand what one could do—watched with wide eyes as their Pyro was blown to smithereens—and since then had learned to rely on his ears more than his eyes.

After a minute of silence—save for the battle outside—Nate rounded the corner and bounded as quickly as he could through the main floor of BLU's fort. Turning left at the last opening, he listened intently for a sentry. Still, there was none. As he made his way up the winding staircase, he wondered if the enemy's Engineer had been killed. RED's Demoman had destroyed their sentry a week ago, so it was possible that he'd taken him out too. Nate smiled to himself as he entered the basement. This'll be a breeze.

He proceeded down the staircase slowly, listening for anything besides the hum and click of computers. His shoes squeaked loud against the floor, echoing… but there was nothing else. He grinned, turning his sneak into a sprint. He already knew where to go, considering how strangely similar the opposing bases were. Taking a left and a right down a thin corridor, he stopped again. The end of the hall opened up into a large room, empty save for the cable running across the floor and a desk sitting in the far left corner. On that desk, sitting teasingly on its surface as if anticipating Nate's arrival, was the Intelligence.

In an excited rush of adrenaline, he sped forward, throwing all his previous caution out the window. He was so close—so fucking close—that there was no way anything or anyone could stop him. He was going to make it. Finally, he would capture the Intelligence. All his hard training and work would finally pay off. He was going to—

Beep. Like the world had some kind of twisted sense of humor, there it was. That beep. Why the fuck hadn't he heard it before? With a gasp of realization, he tried to stop, but the floor was slippery and made him skid forward. He turned in a one-eighty, catching himself with his foot moving behind him and launching back into the corridor. It was too late. With a distorted hiss, the sentry in the corner swung to face him and shot. One bullet—just one—and it hit its target. It lodged deep into his calf, shattering in his muscle, pieces tearing and pressing against the large tendon in his leg. Pain overtook his ability to run, and in a few steps he tumbled to the floor, crying out in agony.

"Fucking shit, son of a bitch…" he swore repeatedly, teeth clenched as he attempted to move his leg. Sure, he'd been shot before. Taking a bullet was like an expectation in this place. But, miraculously, the ones he'd sustained since he'd joined the RED team had been simple flesh wounds, and even those would disappear within minutes—if not seconds—thanks to Medic's medigun. But this—this one fucking bullet—was different. The slightest twitch of his leg sent waves of pain through his body, the feeling so intense that he felt his senses starting to fade. He tried to call for help, but all that came out was a painful wheeze. What made it worse was that it was his fucking leg that was injured. He was a Scout, the fastest class on the team. Their main use was running, and if he couldn't run, well…

He was as good as dead.

"Nate? Nate! If you can hear me, get back to base! Battle's over and BLU's heading back inside. Aw hell, if you're still in there…"

Was that… Steve's voice? Why would a Sniper be… Oh shit, wait, that was in his earpiece. Nate's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment as his words struggled to register. When they did, his heart started to race.

He'd passed out. The battle was over and BLU was coming. They would find him. Shit.

He cussed profusely as he stood, ignoring the searing pain that pulsed through his calf and the pool of blood that had gathered beneath him. Panic and the will to live were overwhelming compared to the agony that was telling him to give up. He had to leave. He had to get out. Fuck the Intel, at least for now. If he went back for it, there was no way he'd be able to leave without BLU catching him. He limped desperately out of the corridor, turning left and heading back towards the steps that he'd used earlier. But fuck if karma was going to let him get away that easily.

Just as he turned the corner to reach the steps, he was stopped. Brennan. The BLU Scout seemed to stare at him with just as much bewilderment as Nate, probably at a complete loss trying to find a reason for why an enemy was still in their base. Brennan, Nate noted, had no scattergun. No pistol either. They'd probably been broken or he'd run out of bullets. Whatever, he didn't really give a shit. No, what concerned him at the moment was the fact that the BLU Scout was now smirking deviously—triumphantly—at him, a bloodied dented bat held in his right hand.

Oh shit.

In that moment the pain was gone—forgotten—and he propelled himself towards the other exit. He sprinted as fast as was physically possible, the limp from moments ago non-existent. A new rush of adrenaline surged through his system when he heard the clang of Brennan's bat as it fell to the floor, and his footsteps that were clearly outpacing his own. His heart was thundering in his chest, every nerve in his body protesting against the weight of himself on his abused leg. He could hear the steps getting closer, closer, closer… and then they stopped.

For a moment—for one small moment—Nate hesitated, confused by the disappearance of shoes against floor. And in that moment, he was hit. All air left his lungs as Brennan's full weight flew into his back, the momentum sending the both of them careening forward, Nate face-planting against the linoleum with such force that his senses dulled. He kicked and yelled and thrashed, trying to throw the Scout off his back, but to no avail. He could just barely make out Brennan's voice over his own cries of protest, calling out for the BLU Medic. Then there were more footsteps, at least four sets of them making the ground vibrate harshly beneath him. There was that familiar German slur as the Medic spoke a few feet away. Nate looked over as best he could, eyes struggling to adjust against his own panic. He saw the thick blue rubber gloves, one holding something. Something sharp…

A needle.

"No! Shit, get offa me!" Nate cried, attempting to thrash harder. But his arms were suddenly held down, and in that same instant he felt the needle prick his skin, liquid entering his bloodstream. Then the weight was off his back. He tried to stand, but his injured leg had completely given out. So he crawled. Crawled towards the exit like a helpless pup with its tail between its legs. His senses started to shut down as the sedative kicked in. Shit, he was close. The exit was right there. So close…

But the world faded into nothing.

A/N: Thanks for reading, and reviews are very much appreciated. I know the chapter is rather short, but hopefully I'll be able to make the next ones longer.

Unfortunately, it might take me a while to update. And by a while I mean a couple months, simply because of school and the fact that I'm currently applying to university and getting a job, so much of my free time will vanish into thin air. I'm also working on three other fanfictions. If you're willing to wait a while, then thank you. Your patience is greatly valued C: