"Come on, it can't be too far." A young woman panted out, her feet aching as she ran. Her small legs trapped under her dress. It really didn't allow her to run all too fast, and her heels weren't making it any better. Her kitten heels clacked loudly on the ground, matching her rugged breathing. She noticed the men around her weren't panting, and simply jogging around her silently. The only one who was struggling was the Sniper, who refused to let anyone hold Lesley except for him. At least she had lost some weight when she sat starving in a cell for a few months…Getting tortured...And impregnated.

"Mursh Purlurng…Hur murch lurngur?" The Pyro said from a bit behind her. Its footsteps weren't nearly as loud, but they still echoed around the dark tunnel which they came through. The lights had stopped working this far out, and they relied on just their ability to see in the dark. Miss Pauling couldn't help but feel scared something was going to happen. She couldn't run any longer, and gave up, slowing to a stop, gasping and panting for air.

"You…You guys keep going. I'm right behind." She panted out, reaching out to stabilize herself on a wall. She felt something crawl over her hand and she screamed, jumping back. She bumped directly back into the Pyro, who held her tightly to its chest. Screaming a muffled high pitched scream as well.

"What is scary?" The Heavy asked, standing just a few feet back. Standing with his Medic. Behind them stood the Sniper, letting Lesley stand weakly on her own. She felt a bit better, but not enough to run. She had always hated running in the first place, but in her current state she couldn't even imagine herself running.

"Nothing. I just felt a spider or a cockroach." Miss Pauling sighed, feeling sweat on the back of her neck. She felt her hair plastered down to her skull, and the cute little hairstyle she wore proudly was undone, meaning her hair was flowing freely down on her back. It didn't go too far, but she knew it wasn't a good look for her. She smiled softly, breathing out a sigh of relief.

It would all be over soon, and she could go home, have a nice bubble bath, and then flee the country. She wouldn't have to put up with all those stupid idiot mercenaries anymore. She knew they would all be dead soon enough.

"Can we keep movin' please?" Lesley asked, leaning heavily against the Sniper. She was looking slightly better than before, and was at least able to stand.

"Yeah, come on." Miss Pauling said, turning to continue walking down the tunnel. She shuddered at the cold. The cool underground air was stale and sticky, an odd feeling for the team of mercenaries, who were used to dealing with smoldering heat, not stale chills. The clickity clack of feet on concrete was soon not enough to drown out a noise. A very distinct noise. The sound of sobbing. Pyro was the first to see him, hunched over, clinging to the man in a suit. The boy sobbed like there was no tomorrow, his fragile and young psyche unable to handle this much loss in such a short amount of time. The Pyro started sprinting forward, raising a few alarmed shouts from his team.

"Pyro! Wait!" The Sniper called out, but gave up when he saw what the Pyro was running for. The Scout stayed bent over, his knees digging into the floor, hands gripping the bloody red pinstripe suit that belonged to the Spy. The Pyro dropped to its knees, reaching out to put a hand on the sobbing Scout's shoulder.

"Scurt?" It asked

"Just go away!" The Scout cried out, erupting in a new bout of sobs and whimpers. The Pyro grabbed the Scout by the shoulders, and pulled him into a tight hug. Blood smeared onto the Pyro's gloves, but it didn't care. It held onto the Scout tightly, letting him sob into its shoulder.

"Shhh...Urts urkur Scurt…" It mumbled out, stroking the Scout's back slowly. Smearing blood on the poor boys shirt. "Shh..Urts urkur. Hurs urn ur buttur plurce nur... Urh thurnk.."

"He's dead-"

"Shh..Urts urkur.."

"He's dead Pyro!"

"Shurt urp! Urts urkur!"

"Not it's not! He's de-" Wham! A rubber glove connected with the Scout's cheek, and he stared in shock, lips trembling as it stared into the cold unforgiving eyes of a gas mask.

"Urts. Urkur." The Pyro said softly, before pulling the Scout into another hug. He had calmed down at least. That was always good. The Pyro sighed, slowly stroking the Scout's back. From in-between his shoulder blades down to where his pants started.

"Curm urn, wur hurve tur gur." The Pyro said, carefully removing the trembling Scout from its body. It stood up, before pulling him up. One arm slipped around the Scout's waist, and the Pyro supported the runner, making sure that he wouldn't fall. The rest of the team just stared in shock, a few looking at the Pyro and Scout, the others looking down and silently mourning the loss of the Spy. The Scout sniffled audibly as they continued to walk, blessed with new found sorrow as they shuffled their way down the tunnel. Eyes adjusted to the darkness again as they walked, and soon they were nearly blinded by a light when it faded into view.

"The..Fuck is that?" The Scout asked. He had stopped crying, but snot still leaked onto his face. He pulled up the bottom hem of his shirt, and blew his nose into it. The Medic—who would have normally commented on such disgusting behavior, took off his dirty glasses to clean them on his coat.

"Mizz Pauling, could ve be at ze end of ze tunnel?" The Medic asked as they walked.

"Could we really have walked twenty miles in only a couple of hours?" She responded. As they approached, the tunnel started to get narrower, and narrower. Soon enough, they had to go through the tunnel one by one. Miss Pauling up in front, followed by the Scout, then the Pyro. The Medic trailed a few paces behind, one hand back to hold onto the Heavy's hand. The Sniper kept Lesley in front of him, but kept an arm outstretched just in case she needed it. She didn't.

Slowly, Miss Pauling hit a stop. She stared in shock, looking at the single wooden door at the end of the corridor.

"I've never seen this before-" She started.

"What is it?" The Scout asked, and started moving froward. The Pyro grabbed his arm, but he couldn't help but keep walking forwards. He peered over Miss Pauling's shoulder at the door, and put his hand on her back. "Well? Ya' gonna go in or what?" He asked, gently starting to push her forward.

"Okay! Alright. Fine." Miss Pauling growled out, and weakly tried to remove his hand. It stayed, so she just walked forwards to get away. She walked forward, pulling her pistol off her belt. She kept it tucked in her belt, right on her hip. Just so she could blow people away when they got too close. She glanced at the scout, before stepping forward and grabbing the door handle. She turned it—and failed. Locked. "Back up."

When the Scout didn't move, she turned around and pushed him back against the wall of the tunnel, her forearm pressing into the taller man's throat. "Listen to me next time." she snapped. She blinked a bit, her glasses crooked. "Remember what happened at Coldfront?" She snarled. Oh god did the Scout remember Coldfront. One bad move, one unnecessary flirty remark, and he was locked outside to freeze to death. Nude. Women were mean. He just nodded, and let her have enough space. The pistol in Miss Paulin's hand flashed from the muzzle as a bullet broke through the door. Not the lock. She shot again, and missed.

"Oh come on..." She cringed, her cheeks heating up with anger as she continued to shoot. She was making a fool of herself.

"Uh Miss Paulin?"

"Shut up!" She snapped, and continued to fire.

"Miss Paulin-" The Scout tried, but was cut off when Miss Pauling turned around, and aimed the gun at the Scout's head. Her finger squeezed the trigger, but it didn't even make the Scout flinch when the gun just clicked. "Ya' ran outta' bullets six shots ago."

Miss Pauling stared, and lowered the gun. She was thankful viability was low, if the team caught her shaking like a leaf she would never hear the end of it. "Give me your gun." She demanded and held out her hand. The Scout's pistol hit her finger, and bent it backwards a bit. "Idiot! Watch out!" she snapped. She was sick of this. Sick of putting up with the team, sick of leading the way, sick of listening to the Announcer. Sick of the Scout. Sick of that stupid girl... But a job was a job, and she intended to do exactly what she was being paid for. Carrying out the Announcer's commands. In any way possible.

She raised the gun once more, and let out a small breath. She closed her eyes—it wasn't like she could see anyway. She shot. Once, twice, three- on the third shot the door swung open, as a bat flew out. Another flash, and a bat fell to the floor. Another bullet, another, and another. Until the gun clicked empty. Miss Pauling threw the gun aside, and stepped over the bloody bat carcass.

"Ya' alright Paulin?" The Scout asked as he followed close to her. Too close. It was annoying. The room they entered into was small and dark, with a small staircase leading into an even darker upstairs. Concrete walls welcomed them, and the smell of mold and mildew begged them to leave. Miss Paulin walked inside, and felt along the walls for a light switch of some kind. She found one, and flipped it on. Nothing.

"Ya' guys wanna' see whats around here?" The Scout asked. "there's anotha' door over here. It's open." Apparently, the Scout had better vision in the dark. That could be dangerous. Miss Pauling made a mental note to get the Scout alone with her. A small smile played at Miss Pauling's lips at the idea. Her and the Scout... Alone in a tight confined space...She could almost feel the excitement rush through her body as she imagined what she would do.

"Scout, why don't you an I go upstairs and see whats there. Sniper, pyro, and um. You. Whats your name again?" Miss Pauling asked.

"It's Lesley." The soft feminine voice coughed.

"Right. Pyro, Sniper, and Casey, why don't you stay here while the others search through that door." Miss Pauling ordered.

"Ze Ozzers?" The Medic asked.

"You and the Heavy." Miss Pauling almost purred as she climbed the steps, her feet touching the cold wet ground past her now ripped stockings. Pitch black. Good.

"Scout? Can you see anything up here?" She asked quietly, putting on the softest voice she could muster up.

"Yeah, I can see a bit."

"Where are you?"

"Right here." A hand reached out, and hit her shoulder.

"Sorry."

"No, it's fine." She grabbed his arm, and pulled him in closer to her. She held onto his arm, letting herself shake a bit against him. In excitement. A smile played at her lips. It had been a while since she did anything this reckless. This bold. She pulled back with one arm, only holding onto his elbow with her left as her right hand slipped down to her belt. She felt around it, trying to find the buckle. Her fingers touched the cold wet metal, and she giggled a bit, pressing herself even closer.

"Whoa, Paulin whatcha' doin there?" The Scout asked, but didn't push her away. He looked down at her, seeming to move closer to her. Perfect. Miss Pauling leaned up, standing on her toes to reach his height.

"I want to tell you something.." She purred out, leaning up to press her lips against his. The Bostonian yelped, his mouth getting muffled by hers, as a knife entered back, and was twisted.

"Goodbye."

Message From the Author: Hey! Sorry I've been a bit busy lately. It's been a long time since I updated, but no. Sadly the story is not dead. If I ever do decide to kill the chapter, I will release a message letting you all know. Sorry about being away so long. Things have picked up in unexpected ways and I've been really busy. But I'm still here to write you terrible fanfiction :-). Leave comments, criticisms, concerns, and questions in the response box. Thanks so much for sticking around with me.