Chapter Text
- Are we moving yet? –
Heavy groaned, crushing the steering wheel between his hands.
- Scout, I swear –, said Medic from the front seat, raising his eyes from the paper he was trying to read. – It has been five minutes. We’re still stuck in traffic -.
- fucking goddamnit! –. Scout stomped his foot: – we’ve been trapped in here for hours. I’m getting nauseous -.
- See? –, intervened Engie, leaning forward. – He’s getting sick too. Spy, tone it down with the cigarettes. Oxigen has been thinnening in here -
- I don’t care -. Spy exhaled another cloud of smoke inside the mini van. - I insisted to get the seat near the window –, he continued, - You didn’t let me. Now you get to suffer -.
- For fucks sake –, exclaimed Medic, - can’t you wait ten minutes? Like the rest of us? -
- Ten minutes? –, snarled Spy: - I’ve spent one hour and a half sandwiched between this jittering, sweating child and this other aussie idiot, who has hogged half of my seat and grinds his theeth in his sleep! -. He furiously flickered the lighter against his face: – either you let me smoke or I snap and gut every single one of you -.
- I’ll gut ye first if ye don’t shut op – growled Demo.
- Oh, yeah? –. Spy hunched against the van’s roof: - Please, do it! Kill me! Get me out of this agony! -
- Enough! – roared Heavy, - Everyone shut the fuck up! Or I leave you in the middle of road -. He tilted the rearview mirror: - Spy, be good boy and put your seatbelt on. I told Soldier to do it, you do it too -.
- Solly isn’t wearing it either! -
- Soldier, put your seatbelt on! – yelled Heavy. Sighing, he squinted at the long queue of cars in front of him. The scorching sun of that afternoon glimmered on the vehicles roofs.
- Maybe someone is moving –, he murmured to Medic. – I can’t tell. Son of a bitch grey car is occupying two lanes and I can’t surpass -.
- You are getting tense, lieblech –, noticed Medic, brushing Heavy’s leg. – You vant to change? Let me get into the drivers seat -.
- Don’t worry, doktor –, reassured Heavy: - Misha is calm and tranquil -.
He proceeded to pound his entire fist on the car horn, making everyone jump on their seat.
- MOVE THE FUCK AWAY, LEETLE IDIOT MAN! – he shouted, sticking his head out of the car window.
- Thats it –, said Medic, hastily putting away his paper. – Move over. I’m driving -
- What’s the problem anyway? -.
Medic flinched when Soldier grabbed his headrest.
- Stomp that foot on the accelerator, private! –, he roared into Heavy’s ear. - Crash against that maggot! Aren’t you russian? You should know how to drive a car like a … -. He interrupted himself, his attention getting caught by something in Medic’s lap.
- Wait a damn minute –. His hand shot downwards, fishing a plastic bag.
- These lurid traitors had chips the whole time!! – he yelled, showing the crumpled bag to anyone.
- They had chips??? – gasped Scout, overturned. – Fuck you! You said we hadn’t snacks! –
- Snacks are for good mercs that behave well –, retorted Medic, reaching to retrieve the bag. – You guys have been a fucking stick in the ass for the whole trip. No chips for you -.
- Wait! – exclaimed Demo, whining a little: - I’ve been a good merc! I want some chips! –
- You should’ve act faster, son! –, replied Soldier, already fighting with Medic’s arm.
- Ah! Careful, you’re spilling crumbs all over! -
- Cease your resistance, goddamn nazi! You bought these chips on american soil! -
- FINALLY! THANK GOD! –
Heavy suddenly floored the accelerator. Soldier fell backwards and crashed against the minivan’s back, chips scattering everywhere. Everyone else found themselves thrown against their own teammates: groans of pain rose from behind the driver’s seat.
- What … what the hell? –
Sniper rubbed his temple, his glasses crooked. The impact had awoken him.
- Thats reason you put on seatbelt –, stated Heavy, not looking back. Finally, traffic had unclogged and they were moving again. He sighed with relief.
- Great! More ten minutes and we will arrive –. He raised his voice again: - now, I don’t want hear more whining, more complaining, everyone be quiet until we are in mall parking lot -.
Finally, silence blessed the minivan for a while.
- Mate, I gotta pee –, muttered Sniper, unprompted.
Heavy resisted the urge to bang his head on the steering wheel.
-Why didn’t you go when we stopped at gas station? –, he snarled.
- Oi, I was sleepin’! –
- Well, no more stops now. There is empty gatorade under your feet –.
- Oh, no you don’t! – growled Spy, stealing the plastic bottle from Sniper’s hands. – There’s enough stench in here without you sticking your dick out right next to me, thank you very much –.
- Fine –. Unbiased, Sniper started undo his zip: – I’ll pee out the car window instead -.
- No! Wait! We are driving fast! -. Engie rushed to roll up the window behind, shutting it just as Sniper stuck his crotch outside. Two seconds after, yellow-red droplets of liquid started to splatter against the glass, much to everyone’s disgusted groans.
- Mmmf! Hudda huh! – exclaimed Pyro, concerned.
- ja, that’s right -, commented Medic: - Sniper, I told you to take that bladder infection seriously! Either you take the meds I gave you, or I’ll rip your pipes off and substitute them with an ostrich’s cloaca. What do you think about that, mister? -.
__
All the locals that were going about nearby turned to stare when the bumped, red minivan parked into an empty stall outside the mall. The second Heavy turned off the engine, all the doors clanged open and the nine men rushed to get out.
- Finally! Fresh air! – exhaled Engie, hands on his back.
For the afternoon, they all were showing off their best civilian clothes; or at least, what they thought could suit said label: the frenchman’s black gessato clashed vehemently with Soldier’s old army t-shirt and dusty jeans. Sniper wore a rather horrid striped shirt, and Demo had his beloved kilt on. Not to mention, Pyro still wore his gas mask, catching worried glances from one or two strangers.
- That’s it! -. Soldier clapped his hands: - let’s get in -.
- Whoah, there! –
Before he could move a step, Engie raised his hands.
- Fellas, this is the time to remind y’all we are entering a pacific, public space -. His eyes lowered on his teammate. - Solly, leave the rocket launcher inside the van or God help me -.
- Negative! -. Soldier held tighter his beloved weapon: – That’s out of question! What if there are communists inside, huh? Or a god-forsaken terrorist, threatening the peaceful afternoon of families and children? –
- Solly, the mall guards will surely think you are a terrorist if you show up with that -.
Soldier begrudgingly laid the rocket launcher inside the trunk. – Good! – sighed Engie: - anyone else has brought weapons? I don’t want any shenanigans inside -.
The other mercs exchanged titubant stares. Slowly yet surely, an absurd amount of guns, knives, rifles and chirurgical scalpels was lowered in.
- Jesus Christ –, mumbled Engie, running to close the trunk before strangers could see. - … a sword? Seriously, Demo, you brought your sword? -
- Aye –, the man shrugged, – that’s a real charmer for the lasses –
- Sure, buddy -. He shut the trunk with a loud thud: – Ok. Now we can go -.
Scout sprinted like a puppy towards the glass building, screaming something about ice-cream and a videogame arcade. Hearing about ice-cream, Soldier and Pyro quickly followed. Medic hooked his arm with Heavy’s, strolling towards the entrance; Spy and Engie walked right after.
Demo saw Sniper stop, lingering aside.
- ye alright, laddie? –, he asked, reaching to him.
- Sure, mate -. Sniper swinged a little on his feet, glancing left and right. – I’m… just taking a moment to breathe in and out before entering, ya know? This trip wasn’t really my idea: I’m not very fond of crowded spaces –.
He got closer to Demo, fishing from his shirt pocket a long, fat joint.
- I, uh… brought this little treat with me -.
Demo’s eye lightened up.
- oh, hell yeah! –, he grinned: - pass that shét -.