VAMPIRE WOMAN

-You were one of the newest members of the team that had to adjust. And working with this particular group required a lot of it. You were a great asset to the team, a defensive class that plowed through your adversaries so the others could advance. But outside of practicality and skill, you had no interest in getting to know the others. You had been invited by the other more reserved members of the base for a drink or a night out in the city, but you declined. And you didn’t sugarcoat your indifference either. While most of them respected it or didn’t care, some of them despised you for it like Soldier and Demo. In their mind, why be on the team if you weren’t gonna act like it?

-Sure, you were cooperative when you had to be, but kept to yourself most of the time. After rounds, you went off to do your own thing. On occasion, you joined one of the more reserved members for a drink, like Engineer or Heavy. And of course, you ate dinner with the others, but only observed everyone in conversation. This was the start of your relationship with Scout. He was the opposite of you; loud, brash, annoying. And he was just so interested in you for that exact reason. He asked you a lot of questions about yourself, would tease you despite the size difference between you two, and always found a way to include you in a conversation, even if you don’t talk much.

-That dork wormed his way into your heart without even knowing it. If Scout asked if you wanted to go get tacos out of town, you said sure. If Scout ran up to you after a win and said “Up top!”, you would high five him back. If Scout was still ranting on and on after dinner was over, you would walk with him until he was finished. Spy found it amusing how you were so calm and collected, yet when you were around Scout, you acted smitten. Quickly joining him at whatever he was doing and watching quietly.

-You started to go out more, but not for team bonding necessarily. You just wanted to see that cute batter again. And again. And again. And oh my god, you like him. And Scout being Scout, of course, had no idea that you felt this way about him. And you didn’t know what the team would think. Or your employer, hell, you could lose your job. Being gay was still stigmatized in this time. Now, Scout is very similar to you in his thoughts on his sexuality, but once he catches feelings, you will notice a difference in how he acts around you.

-He starts to avoid you. Leaving quickly after a match with an “Ok, see ya guys!” before running off to his room or to practice baseball. You felt a little sad, despite not showing it. You kept everything to yourself and you did it well, or so it seemed. Though, this time, you weren’t too disappointed as you had to see the Medic to get patched up. The Blu Pyro counterattacked you with their fire axe and your ribs felt like they were broken. Silence filled the gray laboratory aside from the occasional hum of close machines. You didn’t look the man in the eyes are he assessed the damage.

“Oh, großer Kerl, they’ve done quite a number on you!” Medic grinned.

“Can you help me or not?” You huffed.

“Zat is no problem, I am just amazed. Not even mein Heavy can hold back a reaction.” He said as he walked away for a moment.

You looked down at your wounds, some bone protruding from your lacerated skin.

“Wait,” you looked up again, “did you just say “your” Heavy?”

“Hm?” Medic met my eyes as he wheeled over the larger Medigun.

“‘Mein’ is ‘My’ in German, right?” Your eyebrow raised.

Then he laughed. A loud, crude laugh. “Oh, did you not know, großer Kerl?”

“Know what?”

“Herr Heavy is my lover.”

You cleared your throat. “Your what?”

“Is there a problem? Because if there is, there’s nothing, I can’t handle.” Medic’s gloved hand hovered over the tray of scapels.

“No, no. I’m not against it. I’m just… I guess I’m just surprised you’re so open about it.”

“Zere is no reason not to be. Zhey are not one to care and me and mein Heavy are equally important to zis team.”

“I see.”

“Besides, I’m fairly certain some of ze others are… well, not for ze ladies.” He chuckled to himself as he started up the gun.

-You were hesitant, how much of what he was saying was really true. You figured the only way to find out was to spend more time with the team. And it turns out, he was correct. Medic and Heavy danced to the Jukebox while the others chatted and drank, how they lingered near one another, the glances they stole while in conversation. Even Scout didn’t seem to care about them. At least now you know you can shoot your shot and no one would give you shit for it.

-So you caught him after the mission. Quickly, before he could run off as he usually did. And asked if he would want to go to town for a while.

“Nah, I got uh, training… to do. So, see ya!”

“Scout, wait-“

“Sorry man, gotta go.”

“Scout, I like you.”

He stuttered in his movements, stopped, and turned around.

A moment of silence.

Then, “What?!”

You approached him, a distance still between you two.

“Yeah, I like you and want to, you know, actually talk to you again!”

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re also into dudes?”

“Well, yeah. Are you?” You cocked your eyebrow at him.

“I mean,” He sighed, “Honestly, I don’t know. I- I have feelings for you too, but-“

“We don’t have to do anything, if that makes you more comfortable. But I couldn’t not tell you how I felt. If you wanna be friends, that’s fine with me.”

“I- Ok. We could try it… I suppose.”

“That’s up to you, Scout.”

“Yeah,” He adjusted his cap, “Yeah! I’ll try anything once.”

-Now, he isn’t the most intimate guy in terms of physical affection, but if you want to give him kisses and snuggle up to him, he is not going to say no! He gets kind of shocked once you get into it after asking, just sitting there while you smooch all over his face. Pressing your lips to every inch of his skin. If you wear lipstick, he will forget that you have it on. Then you just laugh at him because he is absolutely covered in kiss marks. Then he holds your face and starts to kiss you too. It gets passionate very quickly, but it ends with lots of giggles between the two of you.

-(Might let you give him a kiss on the cheek, so he can walk around with the mark on his face… Maybe…)

-Most of your cuddles will be in private, he prefers to keep that to the two of you. But he doesn’t mind putting an arm around your shoulder while talking to friends or hugging you to his side. His favorite positions are lounging on top of each other or sprawling his legs across your lap to annoy you. He does it with a big sigh too. It’s really the only thing he initiates. He doesn’t have a reason for it, he doesn’t hate cuddling, he just prefers other modes of affection like quality time. It can go hand in hand at times.

-After a long day of work and you just want to lay on his lap, he will oblige. He has a habit of absentmindedly and slowly scratching your scalp. Combing through your hair. Sometimes he will tell you stories in French to help you sleep. If you do end up falling asleep, he is likely going to as well. I’ve mentioned this in the past, but I like to think the sounds of breathing make him sleepy, so you both just fall asleep together.

-This one is a bit more suggestive, but I like to think he is good at making out. He is older, so he has some prior experience. If it’s your first time, he would be very light with you. No rushing, deciding what you do and don’t like, how to do certain things. He’s not very attentive, so you have to tell him what you do and don’t like, otherwise he won’t notice. He likes to hold the back of your neck and head while making out. But if you already have experience, he gets comfortable quick.

-Despite what most might think, I feel like he would actually be super helpful. Yeah, he can stop by the store while he’s running errands. Though, I can’t guarantee that most of what he picked up was paid for or not. His excuse would be that you should get pads for free. He would also grab some junk food or sweets you can indulge in. Maybe grab some Cock Asian for dinner. You likely won’t get what you need until the end of the day when he comes home, so in the meantime, just lay in bed with Champ. Or smoke some of the pot that he’s been growing in his trailer.

—If you ever bleed through your clothes, he would honestly just give you his trench coat because it would cover everything. And if you get embarrassed about the fact you bled in public, he would pull you aside to a private place and reassure you that it’s ok. He pees on people sometimes, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.

-I can’t lie, I think he’s a believer that periods make you emotional (I mean, they do, but you shouldn’t be reduced to that) and would likely assume you’re gonna be bossy because his ex wife was the same way. But when he sees that you’re only irritated because of the cramping and you aren’t taking your discomfort out on him, he actually offers to give you a massage. I like to think he gives the best massages ever and if it wasn’t for his snide comments towards others, he could’ve been a masseuse.

-If you get sad because of your period, he holds back the urge to tell you to get over it, not going to lie. He doesn’t really understand. But then when you kind of snap at him, he backs off. Then he comes back with dinner and quietly snuggling up to you as an apology. If you ever cry during your period, he likes to wipe your tears with his hands on your face. He won’t say much, just wiping them away.

-So, my version of Pre-Postal 1 Dude is just a pretty chill guy. He likes the simple life; a house to take care of, his dog and his partner to share it all with. As far as mental health goes, he takes good care of himself. While he doesn’t go to therapy as much anymore, mostly due to finances, he sees a psychiatrist every once in a while for medication. His job gives him good insurance for medication and even has a pharmacy in store. While he is high functioning, he still has his days and has had to take off of work or cancel plans due to his mental health.

-He probably met you through his job. As I have said before, he is a maintenance man at the EZ Mart. Doing the repairs and putting in fixtures around the store. Out of trade school for sometime, he got this job after his certification and he has a side business of doing repairs for people who call him. So, he’s about 22-23 at this time. I’m not going to headcanon much about the ages, I just imagine you two being young and trying to get your lives together. You trying to get through medical school and working to afford your apartment with your roommates and him trying to pay off the house left for him by his parents.

-Whether it was from him fixing something in your home or working with him at the mart or something else entirely, you fell for the repair man. And he reciprocated in flattery. I mean, you were very caring, he enjoyed your presence, you both had the same desire for a simple life together and you were pretty good at taking care of things, how could he not? But after the honeymoon phase and things got more serious, you learned of his mental health little by little. The amount of prescriptions in his cabinet, the way he was tedious with his cleaning of both his house and himself, how he would let his worries slip. He would talk to you about his OCD and Paranoid Personality Disorder as he felt it was only fair to give you a heads up that it might influence the relationship. But you chose to stay.

-Life was simple. Nothing crazy besides a rough work day or barely scraping for bills once in a while. But one day, you noticed that his personal hygiene got absurd. Hours and hours and hours of showering, scrubbing his skin over and over again. The paint on the bathroom wall started to bubble. His water bill shot up so much, you had to work overtime. Then it was the hoarding. A massive artillery of weapons. Installing locks on the doors.

-Each time he went, you tried to reel him in. And each time, he pulled away. It was weird. He was still taking his medication, but he was getting worse somehow. You tried to convince him to get help. Tried to convince him to go to therapy. But he brushed you off every time. At some point, he stopped getting up for work. Or in the morning at all. He was restless throughout the night, scared of what he would see in his sleep. After making him dinner, you would try to convince him that you didn’t do anything to his food (except sneak his medication in, which you had to pick up because he hasn’t left the house). Often catching him talking to someone that wasn’t there.

-Your job didn’t pay enough to provide for the house and utilities. Notices and overdue bills lined your once cleared dining table, voicemails from his work and questions from your employer as to where he has been. Stress and grief boiled deep inside your heart. You wished you could do more than you already have, but nothing was working. One day, you came home in the afternoon.

The sounds of the creaking door filled the vacant kitchen. Holding your breath. It reeked. You haven’t had time to clean since you got overtime.

You kind of missed when he would clean, even if it was excessive. You can’t stand the smell of old garbage when you come home anymore. Champ walked out of the open bedroom down the hall and jumped onto you. At least you had your lovable pooch!

Pulling your bag off of you and slipping off your shoes, you approached the shared bedroom. The brown mutt waddling behind you. Gently, your hand touched the door. He jumped at the noise, rising from the nest that was your bed. He wasn’t awake, he never slept. His left eye started to get a twitch from it. Moving his greasy, brown locks behind his ears.

“Hey,” You spoke softly, “how are you feeling?”

He stared for a moment. Sluggish.

“I’m alright.”

The springs groaned when you sat down, as if they hated the state they were in as well. Your hand gingerly touched his arm, rubbing his veiny forearm. His heavy eyes looked at your face. His breath hitching. The humming air conditioner was white noise to your silences. Your hand danced up to his bicep, feeling the work he used to do. Up his chest to his face. Oily from his hair clinging to his face. He pulled away instantly.

“Don’t. Stop.”

Your smile dropped. He didn’t like your touch before your after-work shower.

“Ok.”

You breathed in. Then out.

“Just lay down.” He said.

Head beside his hip. No hand on your head, no warmth. The breeze from the AC blew onto your already freezing legs. The ceiling fan above you was gathering dust on the edges of its blades.

“Honey.”

Nothing was said for a moment.

“Yes, dear?”

“I found this place. A clinic.”

“Stop that. Stop, won’t you?”

“It can really help you!”

“I’m not leaving this house!”

Those heavy eyes towered over you.

“I can’t. It’s bad enough you go out and bring the filth back into my home!”

Swiftly, you moved from underneath his gaze off the bed.

“What are you even talking about? What filth?”

“You would leave me if I told you.”

“Just tell me!”

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“There’s bad things outside. They’re trying to get to us.”

“Bad things?”

“Diseased people. They are all sick.”

“Honey, everything is fine. No one is sick.”

“But they are! And you’ll be too. Please, stay here with me. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t, you won’t,” haste in your words, “But I can’t just stay here either.”

Strong hands gripped your shoulders.

“Please, don’t go outside!”

“Dude.”

“I can’t lose you. Please,” a sob croaked out, “please.”

He sniffed.

“Please.”

His hands flailed to his face and he turned away. Closing in on himself.

In times like these, you turn to the vanity across from the bed. Pictures adorned the wall above it, dust gathered on the edges of the frames. Pictures taken by friends you used to see. Pictures of moments, seemingly long gone.