Archive of Our Own

The BLU Team knows what they are.

Clones, all of them. 

Most days the subject doesn’t come up, but they feel it seep into everything they do. Less like an elephant in the room and more like a mosquito that leaves behind a red and aching bite, floating in and out unseen. 

The BLU Team have their own terms for thoughts and odd sensations associated with having the memories of their “original selves”. 

Demoman shared once, that there's a Welsh word that may come close to their experience: “hiraeth”. Something beyond just the longing for a place, person, or memory. It’s a bone deep draw towards something that does not exist, or never will. Some say it is a wish to go home to a place that never existed. The BLU Team however, is not a stickler for literature, and the words they come up with end up jumbled, in all their myriad attempts to sum up their perplexing experience. 

" Existing a little to the left." Engineer calls it. Feeling out of place, but not enough to mess up one's day. 

" Borrowed thoughts that aren't fucking mine." Scout calls it. Because it's a grand annoyance sometimes.

But Soldier's simple term, the “You-Know-What Feeling”, is what stuck. 

When the BLU Team felt echoes of their original selves, whether it be likes, interests, former relationships- everyone would just pass it off as an every day occurrence, something to get over like doing chores around base, and running basic errands on downtime. 

But BLU Sniper liked Demoman’s term, "hiraeth". This concept felt much more encompassing of what he felt than just plain, “You-Know-What”. 

One night, while standing outside the mess hall, Sniper watched the desert sky light up with fingers of lightning. He'd grown to enjoy the buzz of negative ions in the air during winter. It rarely rained during the other seasons, but during winter, the desert became less scorching and more unpredictable. He tilted his face to the sky, and let the rain trickle down his weathered skin. 

In that moment he realized he had never felt rain prior to his introduction to this war. 

He did not exist before the Gravel Wars at all. 

Everything he was, his very body, his very soul, if he even counted as having one- was a product of the company he bled and died for each day. 

It was an open secret, that the war was never really supposed to end. Both BLU and RED understood this. There was a silent acceptance that everything BLU was, existed as a counter to RED. Be it their personhood, their weapon specialties, their skill sets, their methods. 

But Sniper realized this did not stop his teammates from pursuing their hobbies and own identities outside of combat. 

“ Hey, you wanna see a magic trick?” BLU Scout would surprise Sniper and the others from time to time with a disappearing quarter or a deck of poker cards that he would miraculously know the draw of.

BLU Medic found this hilarious, as the actual occult expert of the group, and would occasionally read the team’s fortunes with Tarot cards. Not just fortunes actually, he would divine details about what their RED team counterpart was doing on the other base, as if offering a glimpse into a much envied and reviled, forbidden other life. 

“ Hmm, the Death card. Looks like you and him are going to die tomorrow.” Medic chuckled. 

“ I die literally every day, Medic.” Engineer replied with a smirk, “ And so does the other guy.”

“ Ah, but this time, you will die first.” Medic would reply, with a guffaw from Engineer. 

“ Can you read mine?” BLU Soldier asked. 

“ The Chariot. Looks like you’re going to carry us tomorrow.” 

“ But don’t I always?” Soldier laughed. 

“ Oh really? I thought that was me.” Medic snickered. 

On top of magic tricks and divination, Demoman taught the team how to play rugby after watching it on television. The team decided it was fine to play rugby while equipped with high powered weapons, which made things more interesting. Demoman had a thing for tequila as well, not whiskey. He was the team mixologist, and knew how to craft signature cocktails. Engineer of course supported this, by building them a portable bar.

Pyro liked gardening. He tended to his rosemary, chamomile, and lavender bushes with meticulous care. BLU Engineer built him a portable hydroponics unit that they could pick up and move in the case they had to hop bases, which happened from time to time. Engineer was a pretty good cook, and would whip up a new recipe every week or so to share with the team. Medic helped him cook too, insisting certain herbs had occult properties the team should harness during battle. Engineer played along, Medic's ingredients tasted great after all. 

Even BLU Soldier, prone to sullen and silent mood swings instead of his RED counterpart's outbursts, would spend time drawing with charcoal salvaged from campfires. He liked the extra dark, messy lines that charcoal left behind on rough paper. When he saved up enough money to have processed charcoal shipped in, his hands were often ashen with their dust after hours. His drawings were dark, explosive, and unique. 

Heavy spent most of his downtime with pen and paper as well, writing in cursive Russian. When asked what he was working on, he would say “a novel I think”, and not elaborate. Medic would read next to Heavy during his quiet writing sessions. From time to time, they would converse with each other in German or Russian, helping learn each other's languages. 

The BLU Spy… well, he was friendly enough. But he did keep his distance from the rest of the group. He was polite, but not the most transparent. Sniper got the impression of someone practiced in their wit and etiquette, but really just a facade of smoke and mirrors. 

That being said, occasionally Sniper would see hints of the BLU Spy’s personality. 

The amount of time the man spent by himself away from the group, or avoided the rest of the group in general, gave Sniper pause. 

One time, the two of them were alone on the ramparts, watching smoke rise from a distant control point. They had just Respawned and were very far from the rest of the team, but they could hear the cacophony rise and knew victory was near. 

“ Do you think the others experience things more strongly than we do?” Spy suddenly asked. 

" Who? You mean the RED's?"

" Yes."

“ Feel things more strongly? Like what?”

“ Oh, I don’t know… Pain, anger, yearning, loss. Do they know grief better than we do?”

“ What do you mean?”

“ After all, aren’t they the ones who have a past?”

“ You mean a life before the Gravel Wars?”

“ A life from beginning to end. A sense of place that doesn’t move, even when they do. A sense of knowing exactly who they are, even with their faces blown off. What do you think?”

“ Spy, I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“ Do you think they ever wonder how it is like for us, folks without history?”

“ I don’t think we’ve got it worse than they do.”

“ Really? Do you never feel something is just a little out of place? Do you ever see a landscape and feel like you’ve been there before, and yet you can’t even own the memory because it happened to someone else? We, my friend, are only figments of their imagination, encapsulated in DNA replicated to mimic their exact visages.”

Sniper felt sick to his stomach, he gritted his teeth and said nothing. 

As much as it perturbed him, he knew exactly what the Spy meant. And the Spy always had a way of getting under his skin. 

“ Anyway.” The Spy said, taking a drag on his cigarette and stepping away from the railing to head for the hallway back to resupply, “ This battle is dragging on today. I’m getting bored.”

“ Wait.” Sniper growled. 

Spy paused and turned. 

“ If that’s how you feel about all this, then what are you or any of us going to do about it, huh?” Sniper muttered, “ Seething and being bitter about our lot isn’t going to change anything. We know what we’re made of, and it’s the exact same stuff they’re made of minus a fucking childhood or civilian life, and there’s no point in being angry about it all.”

Spy’s expression was unreadable, but then his expression softened. 

He returned to stand by Sniper’s side. 

“ I have been a bit brazen this morning.” He said. It was the closest thing Sniper knew he was going to get to an apology.

They watched on as the yells of victory ran out in the distance as the last RED control point fell to their teammates. That night there was a feast to commemorate the last battle before the weekend. 

But Spy’s words had already seeped into Sniper’s head like a poison. He knew Spy must have been thinking out loud, that this was just his teammate’s way of trying to get something off his own chest. But it affected Sniper. It distracted him well into the night and he couldn't sleep.

And the worst part about Sniper's insomnia is, that every time he couldn’t sleep in his room, he felt like he had to sleep outdoors. He didn’t have a vehicle of his own, but he vaguely knew that a car or a van would somehow feel safer to him, like a cocoon all his own instead of a space he had to share with many others. On the day he felt the familiar encroaching dissonance in his head, he camped outside by the edge of the base, keeping his serrated tribalman's shiv close by in case of any kind of enemy ambush. 

“ Hey, you sleeping out here again?” Engineer asked, carrying some seeds over to Pyro’s hydroponic garden one evening. 

“ Yeah.” Sniper croaked, trying to get some shut-eye. 

“ You’ve been sleeping out here a lot, lately. If it starts raining, you should head back in.” Engineer suggested. 

“ I’m good, mate.” Sniper always replied. 

But other things began to set in. Less familiar emotions and sensations that weren't the usual insomnia.

For one thing, Sniper became drawn to the payphone at the edge of the base. Like a lemming to a cliff, confused by the antifreeze building in its veins. 

He began to pick up the phone every night at around 9pm, expecting to hear someone on the other side. Sometimes he actually would hear whispers, of two people he didn’t recognize. But the words were too muffled and shaken up with static for him to understand anything. All he could understand was the desperation he felt in his gut, like he was trying to reach for something he knew he would never have. It tore him up like a pair of claws emerging from his chest, cutting their way through his skin, leaving him feeling exposed and afraid. 

Who was supposed to be at the other end of the phone?

One night when he hung up, he flinched at the sight of Soldier staring at him from the single lamp on the porch. 

“ Who are you calling?” Soldier asked. 

“ N-nothing. No one.”

“ Is someone calling you?”

“ No. No one.”

“ Hm.”

Sniper also spent more time at target practice, alone during downtime. He didn't know why he became so obsessed with getting a perfect shot. Usually he had no trouble. But he was distracted, and felt uncomfortable and disorganized. Like a switch was flipped and he felt that the only way to calm himself down was to prove he was flawless at his work. 

There was nothing beyond the work, the rifle in his hands. 

No one waiting for him out beyond this base's walls. No community he was a part of anywhere else. 

As lonely as the RED Sniper thinks he is, as vengeful as he may be against the whole world... at least... he once had a home. And once had a family. 

The only thing the BLU Sniper had was this gun in his hands, and by god if anyone tried to take this one thing away from him, he was going to end them. 

" Hey, Snipes! How's it going?" Scout's voice rang out across the clearing. 

In that moment of distraction, Sniper missed his mark by two inches. 

Suddenly he sank to one knee and started breathing hard. 

" Whoa, dude. Didn't mean to frighten ya!" Scout laughed, before hesitating when Sniper didn't respond and strolling over. 

" You ok there?" Scout persisted, a look of concern coming over his face. 

" Yeah... I'm fine... no worries." Sniper replied, smiling tightly. 

Scout didn't look convinced, " Get some sleep ok? Can't be stuck in a combat mindset every minute, yeah?"

" You're right, Scout... Wise words..." Sniper replied with a sigh. 

The next day Medic did another round of Tarot card readings in the mess hall.

Sniper asked for a reading after most of the group had retired to bed. 

“ You look exhausted, Sniper. How has sleeping outside all these nights been for you? I couldn’t do it myself, I need to know I have four walls around me.” Medic said. 

“ Doc, can you, um… give me just one quick reading?”

“ Sure, what would you like to know?” Medic asked, already shuffling his deck. 

“ What is he doing over there, right now?” Sniper asked quickly.

“ Who?”

“ My counterpart on the RED team.”

“ I see.” Medic replied with a smile. 

He pulled three cards. 

The Lovers. Five of Swords. The Moon. 

Medic sat back, gazing down at them over the bridge of his nose, “ Well, there is someone special in the RED Sniper's life, or he is growing in a partnership of some kind. He is also embroiled in a conflict, according to the Five of Swords. The Moon of course, implies deception. Either someone close to him is deceiving him, or he is somehow deceiving others. But considering all three of these in sequence… I see that he is dealing with some difficult emotions, that someone very close to him may not be all they seem, and that though there is potential for a particular relationship to grow, he would be putting himself at significant risk doing so. The Five of Swords includes the emotions derived from conflict as well, such as intimidation, stress, and anguish."

“ But what is he doing?” Sniper demanded. 

“ I’m curious why you wish to know specifics.” Medic said. 

“ Because I… I need to know.”

“ Why is that?”

“ I don’t know, I just- it’s eating at me, ok? The fact I don’t know exactly what he’s doing.”

Medic gazed at Sniper for a moment. 

“ Soldier tells me you have been going to the payphone nearly every night, and you stand without speaking next to the phone for several minutes at a time. You aren’t sleeping in your room, choosing to camp outside instead. You spend hours training even during downtime when you should be resting and recovering from battle. If there’s something going on, and it relates to your counterpart in RED, you can tell me about it.”

“ Nothing’s happening, alright? I just need answers. Tell me what the hell he is doing!” Sniper cried. 

It was only then, Sniper realized he was shaking. 

He’d never raised his voice at Medic outside of the field before, and on the field everyone knew it was just about combat, not about anything else. 

White hot shame ran through him for his outburst. 

But instead of expressing any frustration or indignation, Medic merely smiled.

“ We’ve been there before, Sniper.” He said genuinely. 

“ Stop it. I’m not… I’m not having that problem, ok? I know who I am-”

“ Yes, but-“

“ I’m just a spinoff from some strand of his DNA, I see places I’ve never been in my dreams and I know they’re from his life, I expect to have a hometown to call my own, then I remember I’ve got no one waiting for me there because I came out of some vials swirled around in a centrifuge. I’m just an afterthought of an afterthought, because really, if I was off base and trying to pass myself off as just some civilian, who the hell would even buy it, huh? So he’s a guy with a history before the Gravel Wars, so he thinks he’s a real hot shot doesn’t he, even though my kill count was twice of his in the last battle. I’m twice the man he is, and I’m only half of what he’s ever seen. If he was here, I tell you what I’ll do, I’ll put a bullet between his eyes and then I’ll smash his face in with a-“

“ But Sniper, the truth is, just because he has a past he can remember and a life before RED, doesn’t mean you are any less human than he is.”

Sniper tried to slow down. He didn’t mean to blurt out half of what he’d said, and now all he could manage was to steady his wrist against the tabletop, even though it was still trembling. 

“ You want to know something?” Medic asked, setting the deck down gently, “ When I first found out I was a clone of the other doctor, I refused to accept it. I wasn’t able to deny any of what I felt. I fought the idea and tried to convince myself I was somehow better than him. But at the same time, I tried to be like him too.”

“ That’s what doesn’t make sense to me, why the hell I would want to be like the other guy? Why do we all feel that way?”

“ Perhaps we all have different reasons for wanting what we want. Your reaction is not at all abnormal considering our situation.” Medic replied. 

“ I… I don’t know what happened, Doc. Usually I can keep all this down. But just in the last week it’s been eating at me.”

“ Identity confusion can be exacerbated by any number of things for us. From diet to sleep to combat stress.”

“ No, it was. It was just a conversation. It couldn’t…”

“ Conversation? What conversation?”

“ I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“ Did you have an encounter with the RED Sniper? A different member of his team?”

“ No. It was Spy. Idle chit-chat about the RED's. Just… I’m just fine.”

Medic nodded and sat back with a sigh. His brow furrowed thoughtfully. 

“ Have you thought about telling Spy how you feel?”

“ I don’t want to make him feel guilt for this. This is my responsibility.”

“ What I mean is, it is possible he was trying to resolve his own experience by speaking to you. You may not have felt prepared for the information. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care for you.”

“ H-has he talked to you?”

“ Sniper… everyone on the team has noticed you are acting quite differently.”

Sniper buried his face in his hands. 

He felt unsteady, and like he was spiraling deeper. 

Medic relayed to him that there were medications he could take for stabilization if needed. They wouldn’t resolve his identity confusion, but they would at least help with insomnia and paranoia. Sniper opted for melatonin, and nothing else. 

The next morning he woke up at noon. It was Saturday, and he could hear the team moving about. When he finally shuffled into the break room, he noticed Engineer and Pyro had left some breakfast items out for him. 

He looked out the window, and it appeared that the team was playing rugby despite it having rained pretty hard the night before and the ground was still muddy. 

Sniper wondered why he usually turned down his teammates' offers of playing rugby. He vaguely remembered that the RED Sniper had played rugby before, so he wasn't sure why he felt so against playing the sport. It seemed like something he would instinctively know how to play. 

Sniper watched on as Scout dashed to score, but Soldier and Demoman suddenly tackled him from either side and wrestled him to the ground. So did Heavy and Pyro. Scout basically got swarmed all at once by all four of them. They laughed, and Scout clearly wasn't injured, but he had landed face first in the mud and looked disoriented and disheveled for just a moment. 

Sniper felt unsteady again all of a sudden, like he’d been hit over the head with something. 

Visions started flipping through his mind's eye. 

It was the RED Sniper, maybe only thirteen years old. The sun was high in the sky, over a rugby field next to a rural schoolhouse.

Four boys cornered him by the edge of the field, and no matter what the RED Sniper said to keep them away, they just closed in further. 

One of them kept him pinned to the ground as the other three kicked him over and over, laughing like a pack of hyenas.

The young RED Sniper snarled and clawed back, till he broke free and scrambled to the foot of a tree. 

The four of them were stronger, but he was faster. 

He managed to climb up the tree, even as the four boys tried to drag him down. When they tried to climb after him, he stepped on their fingers and wrists until they cried out. He stayed among its branches until nightfall, when the boys finally lost interest and left him there. 

The young RED Sniper really thought he was going to die. Even after his attackers were gone, he was sure they were just hiding somewhere close by, waiting to catch him again. 

Because this wasn't the first time it happened. It would happen over and over again, and there was nothing the boy could do about it. 

And then the scene changed. 

There was a dog, lean and scarred, with a stick between its teeth. 

It followed that boy, now fifteen, as he strolled down an empty outback highway, a rifle slung over his scrawny shoulders. 

He held a dead rabbit by its back legs in one hand. 

The rabbit dripped blood across the scorching asphalt. 

Every drop shone in the sun. 

Drip, drip, drip, like the beats of a metronome.

The BLU Sniper gritted his teeth as a splitting headache tore through him. 

Suddenly he was on the ground. All he could see was the blood running down the rabbit's body. 

How limp and heavy it looked. 

RED Sniper's first kill. 

An innocent little rabbit, which he would bring home to his family, and they would praise him for his good marksmanship and that he saved them a trip to the grocery store. 

BLU Sniper wanted to tell them to stop praising their son for his skill with a rifle. They needed to see what was really going on with their boy before it was too late. 

But no, that was in the past, and the damage had already been done. There was no going back. 

BLU Sniper gritted his teeth, covering his face, but there was no way to stop the spasms now running through his rigid body. 

“ Sniper?” A quiet voice from the doorway, suddenly growing into a shout, “ SNIPER!”

When Sniper awoke, he was in his bed. He blinked wearily, surprised to see Spy looking down at him with concern. 

Sniper realized gradually that Medic was there too. 

“ The hell are you guys doing to me?” Sniper snarled. 

“ It’s ok, Sniper. I’ve already called the Administrator and let her know you’ll sit out tomorrow’s match.” Medic said. 

“ I’m fine. I’m just a little tired.” Sniper tried to reason. 

“ I wish it were just so, but if you are going to make a full recovery, you need to take time away from battle.” Medic said.

“ What the hell is happening to me?” Sniper whispered. 

“ You had a psychogenic seizure.” Medic replied. 

Sniper listened as Medic explained what it was. Some kind of seizure that was non-epileptic in nature. Caused by stress and a common side-effect of the cloning process. This was the first time Sniper could ever recall having one, but Medic assured him that most of the team has had these seizures and they were almost always related to an influx of memories related to their RED team counterparts. 

" Is there anything I can do to make sure this doesn't happen again?" Sniper asked. 

" Controlling stress levels is important. Overly high stress levels and irregular sleep rhythm can trigger these kinds of events." Medic said. 

Sniper didn't say anything about what he saw in the moments before the seizure struck, but now his experience in the previous days made much more sense. All the anxiety he had and the paranoia that was building. It only took something small to push him over the edge. 

The entire time Medic spoke, explaining things in layman’s terms for Sniper, Spy remained quietly at his side. Sniper could see the tension in Spy’s shoulders, the way he barely moved, and only his gaze flicked from one of them to the other. 

Sniper suddenly realized the last voice he heard calling his name before he passed out, wasn’t Medic’s, but actually Spy’s. 

“ Try to get some rest this evening. I will be back to check on you after battle." Medic said. 

“ Thanks, Doc.”

“ No worries, Sniper. Just so you know, as frightening as the visions during these seizures may seem, they are not life threatening in nature.” With that Medic nodded, and exited into the hallway. 

Spy got up and dusted his suit off, about to head for the door as well. 

“ Hey, Spy?” Sniper asked. 

Spy turned quickly, standing still. 

“ Since I won’t be at the next match… stab the RED's in the back for me, will ya?”

Sniper thought he saw Spy’s expression waver somewhere between a sad smile and a shivering frown. 

“ Of course.” He replied simply, and walked out. 

The next day, after everyone returned from the battle, Sniper was surprised to be awakened by a rustling sound in his room. 

“ Brought you some soup.” Spy said. 

“ Huh?”

There was a bowl of tomato bisque and bread on a tray beside him. 

Sniper tried to sit up, and Spy helped steady him slightly till he could sit upright. 

Sniper wasn’t used to this. Spy barely talked to him. And up to this point, he had been trying to hide the extent of his struggles from Spy. 

“ How did you guys do? Were you able to get in a few backstabs for me?” Sniper asked. 

“ Yes, a few.” Spy replied. He didn’t seem as smug as usual though. He seemed a little withdrawn. 

“ Did we win?”

“ Again. Yes. We seem to be doing well on the field, lately. Of course, your good aim was missed.”

Sniper appreciated the sentiment but ever since he saw those memories of the RED Sniper, he began to see his own marksmanship differently. 

“ Ah, well, I’ll be better in no time. You heard what Doc said, these seizures happen to us clones. At least once in a while, but we get better from it all." he said, trying to be in good spirits. 

Sniper realized over the next few days, that Spy was acting somewhat differently around him. 

The other team members came to check on him, sometimes smuggling him sugary snacks or gossiping about the last battle and silly things the RED team had done in the line of fire. 

But when Spy dropped by, he would ask how Sniper was doing, and appear to listen. Somehow really listen. 

It was a little unnerving for Sniper. He was not used to Spy actually caring. 

And there was something else too. An odd twinge in his chest. When Spy looked at him. 

It was almost like he was going to have a flashback again, but he couldn’t see the imagery. 

He wasn’t sure if it was a flashback at all, but it felt alien, like someone else’s experience. 

“ Spy, can I ask you something?” He finally ventured one evening as Spy sat by his bed with a newspaper in hand, smoking a pipe. 

“ Yes?” Spy’s attention was immediately on him. 

“ Have you ever had one of these seizures before?”

“ I believe we all have. Though we don't usually talk about it.”

“ Ah, sorry. Don’t mean to pry."

Spy sighed. But then he seemed to make up his mind about something and said:

“ I had my first seizure early on, shortly after activation.”

“ Just days into the contract?”

“ Technically, yes. Though I do not know the exact span of time. I don’t recall much, I’m afraid. Though I do know such experiences are… terrifying.”

“ I see.” Sniper wondered if Spy had seen memories of his RED counterpart too, that maybe he didn't want to see. 

After a long pause, Spy continued. His expression had changed. It was conflicted, downcast, but still withholding something. 

“ Sniper, I’m sorry for what you’re going through.” He said.

“ It’s fine, Spy! Really, I’m alright.” Sniper reassured him. 

“ I haven’t really been frank with you.” Spy said. 

“ Huh? About what?"

“ Sometimes when I look at your face, I have to remind myself you’re on my team.”

“ You mean…”

“ It’s as we often experience, since our appearances are nearly identical to our enemies. Sometimes it complicates things.”

“ But you’re the BLU Spy, and you’ve got an entirely different voice from the RED Spy.”

“ Do I really?” The BLU Spy chuckled. 

“ Yeah! You guys sound like two different blokes.”

“ Well, I appreciate the differentiation.”

“ Is there something about me that seems like the RED Sniper? I mean, besides the face?” BLU Sniper asked carefully. 

Spy smiled gently, but there was pain there. Or maybe, something closer to sorrow. 

“ I see so much of you in him all the time.” Spy said. 

Sniper’s eyes widened. 

“ When you stood by that payphone every night, you looked just like him when he misses those closest to him. Family is a difficult thing, can’t live with them, can’t live without them. As clones, there is a blessing and a curse involved, you could say. We are tied down to no one, and yet our brains are programmed to need… someone.”

“ Family… what can you tell me about his family?”

“ There is only so much I feel I can say. But as clones, we have an imprint, or a residual programming carried over from the time at which our DNA is harvested. Medic’s words, not mine.”

“ You mean I’m somehow feeling his emotions?”

“ More than that, we do maintain some of their memories. Those memories however, are separate from our lived experience. When we emerged from stasis, we were already in our middle age and battle ready. Yet we have the memory of childhood that belonged to someone else. If that doesn’t cause a schism in selfhood, I don’t know what else will.”

“ Spy?”

“ Yes?”

“ Do you also get flashbacks of the other Spy’s life?”

“ I don’t know. It’s… fuzzy. Sometimes I think I do. Then I wonder if I’m just layering my own interpretation over theories and situations I do not understand.”

“ Is it confusing? Do you also sometimes get seizures from the flashbacks?”

“ I don’t have seizures often now. I can control the flashbacks more or less.”

“ How is he like, the RED Spy? What you can remember about his past?”

“ I’m afraid I can’t quite discuss that.”

“ That’s… that’s alright. I understand. I saw things during my seizure, and I... I don't feel like I can talk about them either." Sniper sighed. 

" In time, I hope the pain lessens." Spy said. 

" Yeah."

Sniper remembered many times, dying by the RED Spy’s hand. There was something grandiose and haughty about that man. Despite being similar in appearance to the BLU Spy, near identical in height and build, he was definitely a different personality altogether. 

“ Sometimes I wonder if some people take selfhood for granted.” Spy said. 

“ What do you mean by that?”

“ Some people, like perhaps the RED Spy. If they care so much for ambition, that they would do anything, abandon those closest to them, connive, cheat, until they get what they want. And I ask myself, is that all I am? Is that all I am destined to be? As a clone, how can I live my life differently? When it is written into my genetics? Into a history that is predestined to repeat itself?”

“ Spy, you don’t have to relive that history. Whatever it is, you’re your own person.”

“ Forgive me, I ramble-“

“ No, listen to me. You’re you. You’re not him.”

Spy seemed tired, distant, and there was the unmistakable tension in his shoulders. 

Sniper realized then, that perhaps Spy was no more put together about all of this than himself. 

Even though he was the one who broke down, who had a seizure out in the open, Spy was still grappling with the same confusion he felt. Perhaps it dogged him even more. Sniper felt like he was starting to come to terms with his connection to the RED Sniper, but for Spy, this must be an endless kind of rumination with no clear answer. 

“ Hey, tell you what.” Sniper said, “ Once I’m better, maybe you and I can spar more often. We’ve both got some steam to blow off from how we feel about our RED counterparts, eh? I could use some practice with close range combat.”

“ Perhaps. Don’t expect me teaching you all my tricks, though.” 

“ Oh, I’d never. It’d be fun though, wouldn’t it?”

“ Yes, I think I’d like that.”

“ Sounds like a deal.”

Sniper recovered and as he experienced rehabilitation he was able to fight again. 

Sniper and Spy began to switch combat styles during their sparring, giving each other tips about the enemy Sniper and Spy.

In the process, Sniper learned more and more about the RED Sniper from the BLU Spy’s perspective. 

“ You both have this habit of cursing under your breath when you’ve missed a shot.” Spy mused. 

“ Oh?”

“ Yet I’ve noticed you favor the serrated shiv over a kukri. He almost always draws a kukri.”

“ Yeah, well, have I mentioned how the RED Spy will literally drag my gutted corpse over the railing of the ramparts like some kind of disgusting flag? I mean, how fucked up is that?” Sniper scoffed. 

“ Haha, I’ve noticed. He’s a little theatrical.” BLU Spy sighed. 

“ A little? The bloke's a damn sadist!”

“ Hah. I think that’s part of his act. Look at me. Catch me if you can, sort of thing.”

“ Do you guys smoke different cigarettes?”

“ Oh my, you have noticed?”

“ His smell god awful, they’re always on his breath!”

“ Hah! I think those are Montecristo cigars actually. I favor Gauloises instead.”

“ Damn, I have no idea what you just said.”

“ Please tell me you at least know what a Marlboro is.”

“ Oh yeah, that I do!”

“ Thank god.”

They were actively helping each other become better fighters, and what was once a cold and somewhat distant dynamic, became one of a friendship, with plenty of banter alongside their sparring. 

One day on the field, Sniper sensed the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The RED Spy was close, but he couldn’t see where. There was too much gunsmoke and smoldering sawdust. He couldn’t sense changes in the air like he usually could, because everything was in too much disarray. He was reminded slightly of the same paranoid feeling that boy in the tree felt, thinking that a threat was just waiting to materialize from the darkness. 

Then suddenly he felt the familiar sting of a dagger pressed up against his throat. 

“ Don’t make a sound. Or I’ll play violin with your vocal cords.” The wicked, low sneer of the RED Spy’s voice snaked into his ears. 

But Sniper remembered what the BLU Spy taught him. 

The RED Spy wore expensive shoes that were quite impractical for battle and stepping on them would buy Sniper some time. 

Sniper jammed his boot heel onto RED Spy’s shoes, destabilizing his opponent long enough to twist his right arm and send the dagger clattering to the ground. 

Sniper grabbed his other arm then, and slammed him against the wall, pinning him there. 

The RED Spy cried out, furious, and just as Sniper brought his serrated blade up to the back of Spy’s neck, ready to slice down and rupture his spine, the Spy snarled:

“ Before you knock me out, send a message for me.”

“ A message? The only message I’m sending is you, back to your Respawn.”

“ A message from me to the BLU Spy. Tell him a porcelain doll in a rifleman’s trophy case only lasts so long before it is shattered by the hand that treasured it. You tell him that, and see what he says.”

“ What the hell are you talking about?”

“ Tell him. That is all.”

The death was quick and the RED Spy didn’t resist. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground, oozing scarlet onto the wooden floorboards. 

Sniper later debated whether or not to tell his teammate what the RED Spy said. 

He didn’t quite understand it, and he was worried that he didn’t. 

Sniper believed honesty was the best policy, but something about the RED Spy's words made him feel sick. 

“ Spy, before I stabbed your RED counterpart today, he uh, he told me to give you a message.”

Spy’s brow furrowed, “ What kind of message?”

“ He said something about a porcelain doll. A porcelain doll in a rifleman’s trophy case only lasts so long before it is shattered… by the hand that treasured it.”

“ I see.” Spy’s expression was neutral then, “ It’s nothing.”

“ Nothing? It sounds like some kind of threat to me. I don’t understand it, but it feels that way. What does it mean?”

“ The RED Spy talks a great deal more than he ought to, or needs to.” Spy replied simply. 

“ But what does it mean?”

“ It has nothing to do with you. Don’t worry.”

Spy wouldn’t remark on it again. 

The next battle, BLU Spy wore his razorback and it seemed to deter the RED Spy enough into looking for other targets, at least at first. 

He flanked to the side of the map, hoping to get a better vantage point from which to take out the enemy Heavy and Medic before they could prepare another Ubercharge. 

But just as he was getting closer to the midpoint of the map, he saw BLU Spy stumble into view from the end of the hallway. 

He phased in and out of invisibility, and was breathing hard. 

And right behind him, he saw the RED Sniper, kukri drawn and stalking through the hallway, searching. 

BLU Sniper did not want to confront the RED Sniper right now, or be anywhere near him. The flashbacks were still strong in his mind and he couldn't tear away the memory of that terrified child from this now terrifying adult. 

But BLU Spy was in danger, and needed him. 

“ Hey, ya mongrel!” BLU Sniper cried, immediately switching to his longbow for closer range. 

The RED Sniper startled, still only armed with the kukri. His eyes widened as the first arrow struck his right arm, the second arrow struck his left shoulder, and the third struck him in the left leg. 

He collapsed against the wall and slid down, gripping the shaft in his arm. 

But what happened next, was not something the BLU Sniper saw coming. 

BLU Spy crawled to the stricken RED Sniper’s side. 

And the other Sniper gripped his wrist, locking him with a pained gaze. 

BLU Sniper realized something then. 

He was the intruder here. 

They knew each other. 

RED Sniper looked him fiercely in the eye. 

“ Finish it.” He hissed. 

BLU Sniper gritted his teeth, drew back the string of his bow, and fired one more arrow- straight into the RED Sniper’s heart. 

The RED Sniper’s head hit the wall behind him, and the life faded from his eyes. 

BLU Spy was on the ground, still on all fours, shaking. 

The RED Sniper's body remained for a few seconds more, before disintegrating to be brought back through Respawn. 

“ What’s the matter with you?” BLU Sniper roared, rushing over and roughly grabbing his teammate by the back of his suit, yanking him to his feet. Spy winced from the force of his grip. 

But then he saw the look in the Spy’s eyes. 

It was like Spy wasn’t even there. Just pure, unadulterated shock. His face was empty, and barely registering his surroundings. 

Sniper immediately felt guilty.

The RED Spy’s words echoed in his mind. 

A porcelain doll, in a rifleman’s trophy case only lasts so long before it is shattered...

“ Spy.” Sniper said, urgently and quietly, “ Let me get you out of this hallway, ok? You don’t have to explain anything to me. Just try to come back.”

And he pulled him away from the heavy fire nearby to a secluded area near the BLU Resupply. 

Shell shock happened often on both teams, but rarely to the BLU Spy. Sniper was worried but didn’t want to pull Medic from the charge he was trying to execute with Soldier. 

Then he realized something. 

Spy gripped his shirt tightly and huddled against him, burying his face into Sniper’s shoulder. 

He was shaking so hard, and suddenly Spy seemed so small, and fragile, and…

Like a porcelain doll.

Sniper felt something rising behind his eyes then. 

The way the RED Sniper looked at him right before he fired the last arrow. 

The way the RED Sniper said “Finish it”. 

BLU Sniper realized then:

I would want a clean death too. 

If someone I loved was watching. 

“ Spy, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be alright. I’ve got you, ok? Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

“ Mick…”

“ I’m not Mick. I’m not him. But I’ve got you.”

Spy’s grip relaxed just slightly, and he closed his eyes, as if his body could finally give in and begin to recover. 

Spy had an appointment with Medic in the infirmary that evening. 

Sniper allowed Spy time to himself, and didn’t push him, gave him space. 

Eventually Spy came to talk to him. 

He was sparring alone in the gym, switching between the heavy bags and the speed bags. 

He had grown much better at hand-to-hand combat, but tonight he was furious, and trying to burn off all the aggressive energy brimming up inside him. 

He sensed the BLU Spy before he saw him. 

He always could, the way something in the air would change even though there was no sound. 

But he didn’t turn around. He kept punching the heavy bag, gritting his teeth, ignoring the small shots of pain running up his forearms. 

He slowed to a stop when he felt Spy’s hand against his shoulder. 

“ So you’re the doll in his trophy case, huh?” He muttered. 

It was more than just betrayal he felt. This wasn’t about camaraderie or combat anymore. 

The RED Sniper was his other self. Someone he hated and yet also felt empathy for. 

This whole time the BLU Spy had not been fully honest with him. 

It crushed him. He felt like the one left out, of some kind of secret the other two shared. Somehow he was not good enough. He felt exactly like the RED Sniper had felt decades ago, or perhaps most of his life. Afraid, unable to trust, and angry. 

“ I’m sorry…” The BLU Spy’s voice was weighed with exhaustion, and a fragility that had not been there before in all their time together. 

“ Sorry?” Sniper whirled around, like a wolf with hackles rising, “ What kind of response is that? He’s the enemy! We’ve been sparring together to fight him and the RED Spy for so long! How could you do this to me?”

Sniper wanted to strike the Spy down, the same way he’d do to the Spy’s RED counterpart.

Bullet between the eyes. Blade between the ribs. 

Strike him down. So Sniper whirled around and punched the heavy bag to expend his energy, so quickly that the BLU Spy flinched. 

“ I should have come clean. Please forgive me.” the BLU Spy whispered. 

“ We’re not people because of them! They're the ones who have identities! We’re clones, we’re hardly human, and you went, and you-“

“ You’re right. I couldn’t help it. I…”

“ Why him? Huh? Way back then when you said you saw so much of me in him, what was that supposed to mean? Were you already breaking contract then? Consorting with him and thinking no one would find out?”

“ The Administrator knows.” Spy said.

“ What?”

“ She already knows.”

Sniper took a step back. 

“ I thought you weren’t just my teammate. I thought you were my friend.” His voice broke with anguish.  

“ I am your friend.”

“ I don’t know what you are. You lied to my face, Spy.”

“ I was going to tell you.”

“ When?”

“ Sniper…”

Sniper raised his fist and froze. 

“ Do it…” Spy said. 

Sniper was horrified by what was coming up inside him. 

He wanted to strike the BLU Spy down, over and over, till the other man’s face was a bloody, crushed pulp on the gravel beneath them. The feeling was foreign, invasive, and utterly primal. 

Is this how those four boys felt when they attacked the RED Sniper over and over again?

The same way he’d strike down the RED Spy for crossing him, for looking at him funny, for simply being in his line of sight? 

The rabbit dripping blood onto the asphalt would become the bodies of humans over the years. 

And for what? Because he had some kind of beast inside him he couldn't satiate?

This was the BLU Spy. This was his closest friend. 

He couldn't bring himself to do this.

Sniper took a deep breath, and lowered his hand. 

He turned to leave, but the BLU Spy gripped his arm tightly then, stopping him in his tracks.

“ I betrayed you, Sniper. I’m truly sorry.” He said. 

“ When you guys are not in battle, does he take care of you?” Sniper asked quietly. 

“ Yes.”

“ Does he tend to you? Does he listen to you? If he takes advantage of you... I swear I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him dead with no Respawn to catch him, and that’s a fucking promise.”

“ He’s good to me. But… you have a right to know about us. And I hope one day you’ll forgive me. The RED Sniper is... he's human too...”

BLU Sniper felt tears threatening to break from his eyes:

“ I forgive you, Spy. Just… don’t get hurt. Dear god, don’t get fucking hurt in such a way that I can’t, or that none of us, can help you.”

Sniper turned and shook his head, storming out. 

Sniper struggled to sleep that night. 

He tossed and turned, anger running through his veins. 

Furious, out of control, bitter, betrayed, blindsided. 

Worst of all, he knew he was jealous. 

He didn’t know he could feel this protective of Spy, and this angry at him at the same time. 

And he wondered how the RED Sniper was with his friend. Whether RED Sniper could finally reveal just how vulnerable he really felt. 

He heard a quiet knock on the door. 

When Sniper opened it, he saw Spy there. 

“ I need to know you’re alright.” Spy said. His voice was quiet but firm, and his eyes were red, as if he had shed tears already. 

“ It’s late. Go to sleep.” Sniper sighed. But he didn’t want to turn Spy away. He felt sorry for him, and guilty for his own outburst. 

“ It’s cold out here this time of night.” Spy said softly.  

“ Then wear a jacket.” Sniper replied roughly. 

Spy looked at the ground, then back up at him. 

Sniper knew what Spy was doing, and Sniper knew he couldn't ward him off forever. Nor did he want to. 

“ You’re in a difficult place right now, Spy.” Sniper began, “ Best thing you can do tonight is try and get some shut-eye.”

“ I can’t. It’s too damned cold...”

“ It’s not cold. Look, if there’s something you want to say, just say it.”

“ When he’s not around, I feel cold. When he’s far away, I miss him.”

“ I’m not him, Spy.”

“ You sound like him. You look like him. You feel just like him.”

“ I’m not him…”

Sniper looked into Spy’s eyes then. Spy definitely seemed shaken, and he was getting worried about leaving him on his own like this. 

“ I’m not him, but… just come inside, ok?” Sniper sighed, opening the door further. 

Spy walked in, and Sniper closed the door gently behind them. 

“ Here, you take the bed.” Sniper sighed, grabbing another blanket and laying it on the ground. 

Spy wordlessly curled up on the mattress, making himself at home seemingly right away. 

He seemed to feel safe here, and comforted. 

Sniper tried to sleep, but his stomach hurt, his muscles were tense. He knew he was still stuck in what felt like combat mode. 

He stayed wide awake, and realized the Spy had already fallen asleep. 

Satisfied that things were going to calm down, he tried to sleep as well, but then he heard Spy begin to hyperventilate. 

His friend was in a cold sweat, shaking slightly. Sniper immediately recognized it as one of the seizures they, as a team were cursed with. As if combat was not enough, the seizures snuck up on them outside battle. Like a sleep paralysis demon you just can never outrun. 

Sniper held onto Spy, tried to pull him upright. 

“ Spy? Spy can you hear me?”

Eventually the intense shaking subsided into a tremor, and Spy opened his eyes, distressed and disoriented. 

Sniper wished there was a word for what they were going through. One single word. What was it, really? Just trauma? Just identity confusion? Just the side effects of being an afterthought of human? Just a clone?

“ I’ve got you. Darling, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” Sniper whispered, “ I’m here. You’re safe now.”

The word “darling” tumbled out of him like a rough diamond he couldn’t hide in its chest anymore. He had never felt this protective for another person before.

" I'm troubled by the thought of my RED counterpart, as much as you are of yours." BLU Spy said, " Please forgive me."

" It's ok. You're safe here tonight. And if you need help on the field, you best call on me, you hear?"

" I know the RED Sniper is afraid of betrayal." BLU Spy said, " And the RED Spy... he knows no other way to get what he wants. Are we just bound to hurt each other forever?"

" Wounded people wound others. Tale as old as time. I'll make sure no monsters grab you tonight. Hush now, and go to sleep."

Spy squeezed Sniper's hand and curled up against him, slipping back into sleep knowing Sniper was watching the door for him. 

Sniper wondered if this is how love begins. Whether he was confusing it with intense friendship or loyalty due to the circumstances of combat. Whether his own trauma and his own issues were coloring it all, and that neither of them could tell one feeling from another anymore. 

At dawn, Sniper carried the still sleeping Spy to his room, trying not to wake him. 

He decided the Medic needed to know that Spy had experienced a seizure. 

“ I already know about the RED Sniper.” Medic said, “ Spy chose to tell you last, and I am sorry it happened this way.”

“ We’re close. That’s why he didn’t tell me. He was worried about how I’d react. The RED Sniper is like my other self, after all.” Sniper said. 

“ It is not uncommon for us to have complicated emotions towards our RED counterparts.”

“ How do you not go insane from it, Doc?”

“ I don’t know, Sniper. Perhaps we are all insane already. But reality is really a joke, at the end of the day. No one exists in the same reality as anyone else. Not even the RED's with each other.” Medic replied. 

“ I feel… I don’t know… like I’m seeing a side of Spy I still don’t understand. There’s something about him that’s… fragile.”

“ Something you wish to protect?”

“ I….”

“ Perhaps even from yourself? The other Sniper?”

Sniper took a drag on the cigarette between his fingers, one of the ones that Spy had given him as a gift in exchange for letting him stay that night. 

“ How can he love someone that hurts him every single day?” Sniper sighed. 

“ Why do we keep returning to what we do? Day in and day out?” Medic asked, shuffling the deck of Tarot cards in his hands. Demoman had bought him a new deck, based on Celtic mythology.

“ I don’t know. Maybe because it’s all we know? I’ve never not been a mercenary. There is no life before this one. The most alive I’ve ever felt is seeing someone’s brain explode at the end of a scope. I assumed it was like that for everyone else until I realized we’re all a bit different.”

“ What is more unfortunate do you think: to have no life but this one, or to have had an ordinary life that became suddenly and wickedly unordinary? We know what it is to be ‘monsters’ to society. We’re unfit for civilian life, stuck in a war that will likely never end so long as the corporations are running. We make a steady profit and can begin to build our identities as we go. But think about the RED Team. Their innocence is behind them. Entirely. They had a shot at a normal life once. But through their own volition, or some other machination perhaps beyond them, they have arrived here. In the same place we are. What is more unfortunate, do you think? Having a soul and then selling it? Or having none, and then discovering one?”

“ I ain’t a philosopher, Doc.”

“ The grass is not always greener on the other side, my friend. That is all I can say.”

“ Thanks.”

“ How have you been doing lately?"

“ Actually, I’ve been doing well. A lot better. It is Spy I’m a bit worried about.”

“ We all recover at our own pace when it comes to identity or the loss and gain of one.”

“ What can I do for him right now?”

“ Be his friend. Listen to him. And of course, don’t try to correct his experience.”

“ Doc.”

“ Yes?”

“ Those cards you pulled back then. The Lovers, the Five of Swords, and the Moon.”

“ Oh, you still remember?”

“ Yes. Turns out you were right. The RED Sniper was in love with our Spy. They are on opposite sides of a conflict, the Gravel Wars. And someone close to them, the RED Spy, likely was not to be trusted, thus the Moon.”

“ Ah, but I’ll share a little story, just between you and me.” Medic said then, “ Look at this another way. Those three cards could be you too. The Lovers, you are in a bond with Spy as well, perhaps of a different nature than the RED Sniper, but similar intensity. You are both in conflict with what it means to be a clone, and over the fact that Spy is in love with your RED counterpart. The Moon, very well could symbolize how you felt betrayed by him, that things were not all they seemed.”

“ So these cards are all hogwash, is what you’re telling me.”

“ What do you think?”

“ Thanks, Socrates. Think I’m going to head to bed now.”

“ Have a good night, see you bright and early tomorrow!”

“ G’night to you too. Don’t work too hard now. Get some rest.”

“ Haha, certainly!”

Sniper returned to his room. 

Spy was dozing quietly in his bed. 

He lay down on the other side of the bed, and Spy huddled closer to him. 

“ Are you warm enough?” He asked. 

Spy nodded. 

“ Good.” He said. 

They drifted to sleep, Sniper’s arm draped over Spy’s shoulder, like guarding something made of porcelain.