#tf2 angst

.✦ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎 ⸝⸝

“Aye, laddie! Jus’ anotha’ drink!” Demo beckoned, raising and dropping the beer bottle in his hand. His lips were slurred, glossed with liquor as he swayed in his seat... you winced, as if he would fall right out of his chair like some toddler. You were starting to worry with how much the Scotsman was drinking… sure, he drank a lot, but never this much in a row.

The team suffered a horrendous loss just a few hours ago, with broken morales and a desolate aura that was an unforgiving buzzkill. Demo handled it the best way he could, and that involved drinking. Copious amounts of drinking.

You frowned as the man offered up a bottle to you, your hand lifted and rested on his enclosed knuckle. And as you turned down the drink, your hand slipped where his once held the glass; taking it from him. "Demo, I think you should stop for tonight," you began, standing from your seat before approaching the sink in the rec room. And with a slurred singing coming from behind you, your shoulders faltered, worry washing over you. Why now? When all the other nights when he drank himself numb, why was tonight so different?

Even though Demo was drunk enough to kill a horse, he still noticed your halted movements—a glass lay idle in your still hand—hunched over the sink. "Aye—uh... you alright there, Y/n?" He asked, tripping over his own foot before catching himself briefly as he stood. You huffed a smile, but couldn't quite tell if it was forced or not.

"I'm alright, don't worry about me," you said, trying your best to dismiss the question as you moved over to the team's shared cabinets... you swiftly took a cup and started to fill it with water. The Scotsman hummed a low rumble, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed... he was far from convinced.

As you filled the cup up, you turned around and handed the cup to him, droplets of water hanging on the walls of the drink. “Drink up, I'll get some ibuprofen for your head.” You huffed, smiling before trying to slip away to grab the reliever. As you reached up to the cabinet you went to grab the container, but Demo had beat you to it. You looked up at him, eyebrow furrowed. The Scotsman had gently pressed his hand into your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed to show a sort of worry.

“Laddie… I may be.. drunk, but I’m not blind.” He began, voice slurred with a slowness… yet concern lying deep within his voice. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the burn in your throat and the racing of your heart… he knew and saw right through you. You open your mouth for a moment, giving up before sighing… you leaned against the counter as Demo gently let his hand fall off your shoulder.

“You know I’m always making sure you’re doing alright, yeah?” You asked, shuffling your feet as Demo nodded, promptly ignoring the glass of water in his hand. You took that as your cue to continue. “Am I ever… too much? Like when I was pressing you to drink water; put down the drinks… is that bothersome?” The longer you talked the more Demo seemed to frown, and whenever he was upset, it was evident. Your brought your gaze upward, meeting his as he put the glass down… but with his drunken misstep, it had nearly dropped. You launched quickly over to push it back, water dousing your hand as you huffed. Demo took advantage of your hunched form as he linked his arm with yours, holding you side-by-side with his hand on your waist.

“Nae, laddie. If you were—hic—bothersome, I’d’ve told ye to sod off ages ago!" Impossibly, his accent got thicker the more he drank. You huffed, rubbing your arm as Demo looked back down at you after his run off. "Surely that’s not what’s got ye' all wound up, aye?"

Your breath lifted, your lips parted, but just when it was your cue to speak, your voice left you betrayed with silence. Demo grumbled. "It was a stupid question, don't worry about it." You tried to laugh it off, but Demo grumbled again in protest, his hand slipping from your waist to plant itself on your shoulder... whether for balance or comfort, the line blurred.

"Laddie, it's me job to worry! We're best mates, I’d be eh' downright bastard if I didn’t, aye?" He flashed you a smile, to which you warmly reciprocated. He squeezed your shoulder, to which you realized it was out of comfort now... your heart warmed. "Nothin' could chase ye off from me, mate. Ye know that." His voice was uncharacteristically soft, but was far from feigned.

You kicked your shoe into the ground shyly, a smile on your lips that no longer felt forced... to which the Demoman took his cue to lift the glass of water from the table beside them. "I like ye enough ta' drink yer cursed water... damn near poison, that." The Scotsman took a long swig, his nose scrunching as if he had taken a shot like any other man. You chuckled.

"Just need you to rest, is all. I know what water does to your damn liver at this point." You joked as Demo swung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you snug against him.

"Ehh, water is for the weak, I say!" Demo waved a hand dismissively, tossing the empty cup to the side like it personally offended him. "Give me a dram o’ somethin’ that’ll melt yer damn teeth, that’s what I need. Water’s for cows an’ bathin', and I don’t fancy doin either unless I’m forced! Next thing ye’ll have me eatin’ salad, wearin’ sunscreen, and sleepin’ eight hours like some posh wee prince. Pfft! Not bloody likely!”

He hiccupped after his incomprehensible, Scottish rambling... but despite it all, he was sober enough to say: "Still. I thanks'ye, mate."

.✦ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 ⸝⸝

The day was long; the arms of the clock rolled slow; the sun setting at a fatigued pace… slow enough that the brutal loss they had suffered just hours ago could hang in the air bitterly.

Dinner was quiet. Some were present, some were not... Sniper walked in late and left just as quickly. But as everyone eventually bid good night, you had noticed the Russian had not arrived at all. You had offered beforehand—to Medic—to check on Heavy and insist on him at least eating a little bit... but to no avail, despite their comradery.

A frown laid on your lips, everyone noticed it. The team's heart and soul was worried. Medic laid a hand on their shoulder, smiling small. "He'll eat, mein freund. He's as big as he is stubborn." He guffawed, but it was short-lived as the German rolled out of the room just as everyone else did... leaving you to your lonesome.

You tapped your foot, biting your lip—staring at the clock now. The least you could do was make him a sandwich. And so you did.

You were stood right outside of Heavy's quarters, your hands wrapped around the plate as you lifted a hand, knocking against the wood as you awaited an answer. Nothing.

You were nervous. You and Heavy were pretty close, and some would go as far to say more than the bond him and the Medic shared... which was why you were so nervous. Heavy was a relatively quiet man, and when he spoke, his words were short and chosen. He was smart beyond belief, his knowledge of Russian literature was not left unseen amongst the times spent together.

A deep sigh left your lips, kneeling down just outside his door to leave the plate for him to find on his own. But just as you leaned up, the door clicked and you looked up just as quickly.

Heavy looked down at you, his brows slightly furrowed, but his gaze softened when he realized it was you. "Y/n, it is late." His baritone voice was low and thick with fatigue—it was obvious he took a big hit from the loss as well.

You gulped, nodding. "Yeah. I just noticed that you weren't at dinner, so I decided to make you a sandwich." Heavy's silence worried you as anxiety buried in your throat. "If you wanted it. I mean- I was just waiting at dinner... so I thought I'd just bring it to you."

Heavy huffed, a smile so small you had hardly caught it. "Come in." He invited, and you meekly walked in after kneeling down to grab his food. The Russian scooped the sandwich from the plate as you slid past him, earning a chuckle from you. "Did not have to. Wasn't hungry, but appreciative." Heavy lied through his teeth, but you shrugged, smiling nervously as you stood awkwardly in his room. Something was on your mind, he could tell... he was a good people-reader.

"Wasn't much... just wanted to make sure you ate. We didn't see you a lot today." You noticed. Oh, how you always noticed. Heavy shifted on his feet, his gaze quick to move from the table beside his bed to you. You followed his, and saw that Sasha was laid bare on the coffee table... parts scattered for cleaning and repair. She was the one who took the hit. "Oh." Heavy nodded.

"She is good gun... but took many hits today." He spoke as if he mourned, even if she glistened in all her glory despite the scarring. "Sasha will be good tomorrow." He walked towards the gun as his large hand ran over the steel barrels that formed a pristine circle. You couldn't help but admire it yourself. "Something is wrong with Y/n, today. Battle hurt Y/n, too. I know."

You felt your throat tighten, jaw clenched as you shyly looked away. "No, nothing like that. You guys took the hit, I was..." you hesitated, "I'm just helping where I can, you know?" You flashed him a quick smile, though your eyes were devoid of light.

"I know." Heavy hummed lowly, his hand falling from the gun before he placed his hands on his hips like a stern mother. "Talk to Heavy. Good listener." The man sat on the end of his bed, patting beside him before he crossed his arms across his chest. You reluctantly sat beside him, hardly causing a dent compared to how much Heavy sunk the bed.

You fumbled with your hands. "I, er..." you stumbled, Heavy patiently waited for you. "I have had a question for a while, I guess." Heavy nodded as you continued, his gaze strong but comforting as he paid attention. You lifted your gaze to find his, and he smiled faintly, nodding.

You sighed before looking back down at your feet. "I've kinda worried about being too much." Heavy made a confused noise, you chuckled. "Like... me pestering everyone about making sure they ate; making sure they're hydrated and getting enough sleep. And when I didn't see you today, I—" you felt your voice get wobbly. You were tired.

"Y/n is very kind person." He began, budging in as you looked away, the burn in your throat too heavy to speak right now. The Russian continued. "You have big heart, you care more than Doktor." He gently jabbed, a low rumble of a chuckle deep in his chest as you huffed with a small smile. "Y/n matters too. Big man can take care of big heart. It's what friends do."

Your silence was not out of choice, but rather to keep your tears at bay and cries quiet. It hurt, to suppress it so much... to press it down at the expense of taking care of every one else... no matter how much you cared for every single on them. You couldn't hold it together tonight, not right now. You slowly leaned over and rested your head on Heavy's shoulder, sniffling as the man wrapped an arm around you—pulling you close.

He let you cry for a little while, his hand gently rubbing your arm as you sniffled. "You do not pester. Archimedes pesters." He grumbled, you chuckled. "Dove do not know boundaries. Archimedes was in chest during surgery, do not like him." Though he wore a frown, he joked around to make you smile again. He missed it.

You began to ease up... your shoulders relaxed, and your cheeks started to dry. The weight pressing on your chest didn’t vanish, but it felt more manageable. You were starting to feel alright again.

You leaned up slightly, though you and Heavy were still hip-to-hip thanks to the dip in the mattress beneath his weight—he really was a big bear of a man. He looked down at you as his arm gently retracted, giving you space the only way he could.

"You get rest," he said warmly, voice like a blanket. "Heavy is okay." Whether it was the comfort, the crying, or simply how late the night had gotten, exhaustion crept in. You rubbed your eyes. "I fix Sasha. Y/n goes to bed."

And as Heavy gently pieced Sasha back together—each motion practiced, reverent—it made your eyes grow heavy too. The night was soft and still, wrapped in quiet understanding. The connection between you felt stronger now, your heart just a little lighter.

.✦ 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐑 ⸝⸝

The creak of a wrench rang through the workroom, along with the occasional clink of a bolt. Your eyes glanced over at the clock just above Engie's door, reading: 8:30 PM. You frowned, standing from your slumped position on his chair as you sat beside Engineer on the floor... the Texan looked up, the dispenser raised by large hooks of leather... the man lay on a creeper seat as he tinkered. He sent a quick smile before continuing to work. "What's up, sugarbug? Haven't you eaten dinner yet?" He chimed, his voice unwavering despite the obvious grumble of his stomach. The cups of coffee that climbed his desk as evidence enough that he had not eaten today.

"Dinner finished an hour or so ago... did you eat? I can get you food," you asked nicely, your head resting on your arms... which were laid on top of your knees. "I know you've been working hard today, you should get some rest." You asked, the Texan chuckling warmly.

"You should get some rest," he replied, rolling himself from under the dispenser. Engie grabbed the rag that was previously clipped to his overalls; he wiped his hands. "You don't have to worry about me, darl'." The southern man spoke softly before standing up, kicking the creeper seat away as he lowered the dispenser from its raised position. You frowned.

"You really should... I know you're used to staying up late, but I'd hate for you to not be able to work tomorrow... or just be tired." You had wished for the man to pause his work, but with his stubborn analysis of the dispenser, it was evident that he wasn't going to. You frowned as he began observing his clipboard.

"I'm used to all-nighters... get some rest." Engineer was quick to shut down your offer. He didn't mean for it to sound necessarily dismissive or rude... but he was so wrapped up in improving his work that his tone and rest was the least of his worries.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your eyes.

Engineer loosened up, his shoulders falling as his hand rested on his hip, a clipboard slid under his other arm. Engineer was biting his lip now, the unrelenting grumble of his stomach alarming the both of you. You snickered. The man looked at you. "Alright, alright. Who cooked tonight?" He asked, setting his once-held clipboard down as he leaned against his desk... his arms crossed as you beamed in your success.

"Scout cooked," you announced, watching as the man slumped in his stood position... wincing. "You won't believe what he made." You stood up, wiping down your pants as you suppressed a snicker at Engineer's dismay.

"Don't tell me it's his ma's 'secret' recipe?" Which consisted of garlic toast that he calls: Garlic Toast Bombs. They were buttery bread rolls filled with melty cheese, roasted garlic, and herbs, with the vision of pull-apart bread, but more often than not failed with a rip of cheese. Scout always tries to make them the exact same but burns at least one every time, and when it's his turn to cook for the team, it was more often than not this specific dinner incessantly.

You nodded, your smile softening once Engineer leaned off the table and wiped his hands on his overalls. Once he neared closer to you, his hand lifted to squeeze your shoulder in a silent conclusion, before retreating.

The footfalls of his boots alarmed your uprise in worry, a sudden weight on your chest that was now heavy with guilt... never foreign to you. You swallowed hard, your gaze burning into his back as your body felt like reaching, fighting between calling after him or letting him walk away. You chose the former.

"Engi?" You called out, your voice wavering and unsure. The man turned to face you head first, his body soon following after to face you properly. You felt like you were suddenly put under spotlights.

"Yeah, sugarbug?" Engineer's voice was soft as if his words cradled you alone, the comfort would have felt nice if there wasn't a rise of guilt in your throat. You gulped, pushing it away.

"Can I ask you something?" This caught his attention, the attentive man he always was, noticed something off. His shoulders tensed slightly, alongside yours, his arms now crossed around his chest like a father. And to some extent, he was.

His silence aided you as a sign of permission to lead with your question, but the drawn quietness alerted Engineer nonetheless. "Y/n?"

"Do you find me annoying sometimes?" It tumbled out of your lips without permission, your heart picking up pace as if you were slowly realizing what it was you asked. You felt your cheeks grow hot, and your gaze evaded him with a quick shyness. Engineer's shoulders relaxed, while yours did nothing but tightened and raise. The man's lips pulled into a smile, tilting his head as he looked down at you... not with dismissal, but rather warmth.

You heard him approach you, to which you raised your head, lips parting to speak. "I'm sorry, I didn't- that was a weird question." Your words were on autopilot again, but Engineer wouldn't have it.

"Now, why would I think you’re annoyin’? If I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t be wantin’ you in my workshop every day, would I?" A laugh bubbled from him, warm and familiar as his hands wrapped around your shoulders. You felt a warm wetness flood your gaze before tears began to break down your cheeks. Engineer chuckled. "C'mere, sweet thing."

His arms found you immediately, to which you sank into his hold... arms wrapped around him with a comforting familiarity. You heart began to ease, but your tears did nothing but fall. You silently sniffled in his work clothes, his hand rubbing your back as he rested his chin on top of your head. The silent comfort of the two of you holding one another, worries slowly fading away as you felt your chest rise and fall, allowed the dreadful weight to dissipate.

Time passed, as it always did, and even then you wished it wouldn't. However, you were the first to tear away from the hug, your hand wiping your eyes as Engineer kept you close. His hand rubbed your arm, but he gave you your space. "Feelin' better?" Engineer hummed, voice soft as you nodded. "Now, what went and got you askin' that?" To which you chuckled.

"I always bug you about dinner and stuff, so I thought..." you began, choosing your words carefully, but Engineer already had the idea. "I thought maybe you were annoyed by me at that point. I didn't mean to push too hard." The southern man shook his head.

"Ain't no such thing." He hummed, his hands falling from you as you began to come back down. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, but he kept his gaze on you. "If it weren't for you, think Medic would have a hay-day with me, don'tcha' think?" You laughed.

"Yeah, he would." Finally, you began smiling again. Engineer smiled in return, his hand found your back as he patted.

"Let's get some dinner." Engineer hummed as the two of you walked together, the halls quiet except from your shared company, chatter lifted and easy.

Engineer cared, he always would. After all, you were family.

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