A/N: The storyboard for the fanfic has been in the archives for some while now, so I finally decided to write the first chapter for it. And boy, was that decision worth it! Not only did I have fun doing so, but it has helped tame my writer's block status. Isn't that a relief!

Beforehand, I'd like to state that this is an MvM AU where the RED base has been breached, therefore the majority of this story will being taking place at the BLU base. Nothing is canon, except for confirmed character names (Dell and Tavish, and I guess Misha and Jane) and Redmond and Blutarch Man are dead, due to this taking place during the MvM timeline.

Also, if you see something italicized, that means there is a flashback or a character is thinking, but that should be pretty obvious.

And for the names, in case you're confused:
Engineer - Dell
Demoman - Tavish
Heavy - Mikhail/Misha
Soldier - Jane
Medic - August
Scout - Anthony
Spy - Lance
Sniper - Noah
As for the Pyro... you'll figure that out later on

Let me know what you think and feel free to leave suggestions. For now, I hope you enjoy! ^-^

The broken lights flickered once more, revealing the bludgeoned corpse by his feet. With horror crawling through his bones, he dropped his bloodied axe and backed away.

No, no, no, this didn't just happen…

The lifeless face of the limp body appeared to stare into his direction, every second of the empty stare filling its perpetrator with guilt and terror.

This was just a mistake…

The lights flickered once more, depleting the room of its light source and isolating the lone survivor in the black depths that represented the darkness now lurking in his mind.

No one else was around. No teammates, no supposed companions. So all he could do was run, run away from the incident, for escaping reality was the only way solve his problems.

And as he ran, only one thought fogged his mind:

You monster… what have you done?

Nighttime fell upon the BLU base as soon as the chosen group of mercenaries returned. August, being the least injured among the cluster of teammates, was behind the wheel while their injured group was packed in the back of the team van. Misha was sprawled frigidly on the floor of the vehicle as to not move his neck too much while Tavish was struggling to pry out a bullet in his gut with the broken end of a beer bottle, leaving Dell crammed in the corner while clutching onto his broken arm.

August parked the van near the emergency exit, which happened to be towards the dining hall. With his medigun in hand, the doctor exited the vehicle and heaved open the hatch in the back, restoring each individual to perfect health with the gun's regenerative rays.

Shivers snaked down Dell's spine as he felt the bones in his once shattered arm snap back into place, rubbing the healed flesh gingerly with his gloved palm as he hopped out of the van and sauntered into the base. Once in the dining hall, he instantly sank into his usual spot at the table and leaned into the tabletop, massaging his temples furiously as he recalled today's events.

The mission at the infiltrated RED base had been a disaster, and resulted in the loss of a teammate.

Dell could hear the cries of a wounded merc and the approach of several robots on his flank. Fire, the explosion, everything made the laborer off guard within the time span of a few mere seconds.

Then, even among the piles of rubble and debris that imprisoned Dell, he could discern the horror that was before him.

The limp body of the Pyro, blood gushing from its jugular and onto the concrete.

Dell gritted his teeth with distress as he buried his fingernails into his scalp, until a certain Scotsman interrupted his thoughts.

"Aye lad, that was'a close one! If it hadn't been fur meh stickehs, dem bloodeh robots woulda trapped ya fur good!" Tavish slung his arm around Dell as he raised his celebratory whiskey triumphantly is his hand. Out of the mercenaries that had returned from the intruded RED base, the bomb expert remained the most optimistic, mainly due to his sense of victory and the alcohol rushing through his body.

Dell ignored his victorious pose and swiped his hand away, instead tilting his head towards the Medic that entered the dining hall. "What's the news, doc?"

The doctor, with a recently healed Misha trailing behind, took his seat in front of the laborer and folded his arms across the wooden surface in a formal fashion. "Vell, for starters, Demo is right about breaking you out of zhat room at zhe last moment. If ve vere to lose you, zhere is no coming back." Dell knew he was referring to their respawn being inaccessible once inside the RED base, and released a nervous sigh.

August replied with an awkward shuffle in his seat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he coughed uneasily. Misha remained entirely focused on the conversation with a nonchalant expression plastered on his face while Tavish finally slumped onto the bench beside Dell, and even Anthony decided to join in after sneaking into the kitchen to snatch a beer.

"Vhile ve vere gone, zhe Sniper, Scout, and Soldier reported no robots breaching zhe gates, so zhat is a good sign." The doctor continued with the report, his eyes zooming across the room to make sure everyone was paying attention. "Meanwhile, Heavy suffered from a concussion vhile Demoman took a bad hit to zhe abdomen, but luckily I was able to fix zhat."

August's next statement appeared to make him extremely uncomfortable, causing him to shift around numerous times. "As for zhe Pyro, vell… uh…"

"Dead." Dell finished the sentence for the doctor, his gaze fierce and his tone bitter.

"Unfortunately…" August sighed gloomily, avoiding eye contact with the livid Texan as he rubbed the back of his neck. Everyone appeared to sense the troubled atmosphere and evaded he glances of one another… except for Anthony.

"Welp, looks like you'll have to learn to spycheck on your own." Anthony shrugged lightheartedly, nursing on his bottle of beer. "Maybe then you won't get backstabbed as often."

No one took into account of Anthony's jocular nature as they remained silent, especially Dell, who was practically fuming. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

The Bronx man raised his hands defensively. "Look I was just tryin' to cheer ya up, alright? Cheer up, Overalls."

At that moment, the tinkerer swiftly rose from his seat in a threatening fashion, his companions at the table flashing both parties warning glances; the ones directed at Dell telling him to calm down, and the others advising Anthony to run like hell.

But he never attacked him. Instead, Dell shot daggers towards him with narrowed, hateful eyes. "You are the most egotistical shithead I have ever met. Does it bother you that a teammate is dead and isn't coming BACK?!" And with that, the laborer turned on his heel and stormed out of the dining hall.

Once stiff from the sudden encounter, everyone glared at Anthony and his ridiculously loud mouth, causing him to slump his shoulders with guilt and chew on his lip shamefully.

Dell had parked his truck up a hill a good distance away from their base, his blood boiling as he picked impatiently at a fire that refused to start properly with a stick. Several thoughts were clouding his mind, that even escaping the indoors to indulge the fresh air wasn't aiding with his lingering anger.

Today, Dell had experienced the death of a teammate, a friend and his partner in battle, and of course Anthony had to mock his dread. Sure, the man had a thing for their team's Pyro, but everyone knew he was too much of an ego addict to actually confess. So instead, he'd use his jealousy towards the tinkerer to fuel his cruel remarks and constantly got on his nerves whenever the masked man teamed up with him.

But the fact that Anthony acted so casual towards the news of a permanent death filled Dell with angst. He didn't care.

No one cared about the Pyro.

No one ever acknowledged the pyromaniac's existence nor would they remember its departure, and that thought alone carved a prodigious hole in the Texan's stomach.

Slowly, Dell withdrew his acoustic guitar from his trunk and gripped it firmly as he strummed each string smoothly to produce a soothing melody. Music was the only cure that could truly penetrate his heart, and each chord he plucked seemed to gradually gloss over memories of today. The laborer began to smile to himself as he began to hum along, the song filling his heart with temporary warmth.

He couldn't help but notice that leaves on a nearby tree began to rustle, ending the song abruptly to observe the foreign movement. He was about to pass it off as an animal and continue playing, until the tree shook more vigorously and emitted a faint gasp within its branches. On instinct, Engineer snatched his shotgun from behind and cocked the firearm threateningly, aiming it towards the base of the tree.

"Show yourself, or I swear to god I'll blast this tree into smithereens!" Dell spat out a warning, his weapon prepared to fire relentlessly.

After a moment of silence and the impatience rushing to his head, the Texan blew a chunk out of bark and heard a frightened squeak exit the tree, along with a tumbling body onto the grassy earth.

Dell arose from his spot and proceeded towards the collapsed body with caution, the hold on his shotgun trembling as the figure struggled to sit up.

Once face to face, Engineer was able to recognize every one of the person's features. The gas tank, the rubber gloves and boots, the flares that stuck firmly in place on their holster, it was all familiar to him… especially the blank stare of the gas mask and the bright red flame retardant suit.

It was the RED Pyro.

Recent events flooded his mind as Dell was reminded of their own firestarter, the newfound fury triggering him to kneel down and shove the muzzle of his shotgun into the Pyro's chest. He didn't even acknowledge the fact that the masked man possessed no weapons nor did he notice that he was shaking with fear, for the one thought inundating the Texan's mind was that he'd have no regret killing off the other team's pyromaniac.

"Boy, you done crossed into the wrong territory." Dell spat as he continued to bury the end of his shotgun into the firestarter's chest, so hard he heard a muffled wheeze of agony. "Now, give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you, right here on the spot?"

The Pyro remained silent for the most part, and Engineer was ready to pull the trigger, until he stretched out a quivering arm and pointed behind the laborer.

Dell turned around briefly, until his eyes fell upon his guitar. "Th-That? You were- Hey!" The Pyro managed to scramble from beneath the gun's hold and perched himself in front of the Texan's dying fire. While bobbing his head in a joyful motion, the firestarter withdrew a flask that contained gasoline and his lighter from his belt pouch and amalgamated the two forces to generate an enormous bonfire. Dell could only gawk speechlessly as the Pyro clapped gleefully at the conflagration he had summoned.

Did… did he just fix my fire? Dell thought as he stood in place, dumbfounded. After I threatened to kill him… a fire?!

That was the insanity of pyromaniac, alright. Dell could only stare as he slowly sunk to the ground, continuing to investigate the firestarter's odd priorities as he clutched both his shotgun and guitar.

The Pyro seemed to notice the laborer's discomfort and proceeded to point towards the guitar within his grasp. Dell couldn't help but awkwardly gawk at the instrument within his clutch. So he did actually want me to play it?

Though still confused, Dell straightened his posture and positioned the guitar in his arms, closing his eyes as he played where he left off.

The tinkerer barely squinted his eyes to observe the firestarter's behavior, to see whether he was simply trying to distract him. But surprisingly, the Pyro was clapping and shaking his head in an upbeat manner, no sign of murder haunting his presence. Shrugging to himself, Dell continued to strum the instrument, secretly enjoying the Pyro's applause afterwards. He had to admit, although the Pyro was on the opposing team, it was nice to hear someone praise his minor performance for once.

Afterwards, Dell tilted his helmet back and gazed up at the sky, the black canvas now dotted with millions of milky white stars indicating that it had grown late. His eyes were then directed towards the firestarter, who tilted his head with curiosity.

What am I going to do about him? Dell chewed on his lip as he limited his options. The Pyro posed no threat and had nowhere to sleep, yet if anyone spotted any hint of red on the premises, it was annihilated within a matter of seconds.

Finally, after drawing together a conclusion, Dell arose from his spot and patted his truck. "Well, I came out here for some fresh air, and I plan to fulfill my quota of the outdoors. So, don't mind if I leave this here." The Texan was hinting towards the vehicle before him, popping open the trunk to permit access for the Pyro to sleep in it. As he gazed down at the pyromaniac, Dell couldn't tell if the way he cupped his chin within his hands and stared at him was a gesture of gratitude, or a sign of confusion.

Either way, Dell whirled around and began to trudge down the hill and towards the base. Along the way, he couldn't help but look back up towards the campsite, where the Pyro continued to stare at him.

Morning took an unexpected turn when the base was awakened by Jane's triumphant howling. Everyone rushed into the hall to track down what the source of the disturbance was, only to find the outgoing American himself hoisting the RED Pyro into the air by the scruff of his suit.

Dell was the last one to bust out of his room, slipping on his helmet and goggles and – just like the others – didn't bother to change out of his sleepwear. "What in Sam Hill is going on?!"

"Was out on morning patrol and found your truck parked up on the hill." Jane declared, shifting his gaze towards the vulnerable firestarter as he continued to strangle him like a ragdoll. "Along with this slippery bastard!"

The Soldier proceeded to thrust the pyromaniac to the ground, slamming his foot into his back as he desperately attempted to crawl away. Everyone took a step back towards the aggressive action, not volunteering to contribute.

Tavish finally approached the scene, his grip tightened around Eyelander. "Mind if I do the honors?"

Jane only replied with a wicked grin as he pressed harder into the Pyro's spine, signaling the bomb expert to bring upon their victim's demise.

Pyro weakly rose his head towards Dell in the crowd of mercenaries and stared at him helplessly, before succumbing to death's touch and lowering his head. The motion of desperation alone made the Texan's heart twitch, and he could feel his fists clenching on their own.

However, before Tavish could release his signature demoknight roar, Dell lurched forward to grab his wrists and bring the beheading to a halt. "STOP!"

All eyes were now on the laborer, gazes demanding an explanation towards his interruption.

The stares were enough to make Dell break out into a cold sweat, and he could only shout the one thing on the top of his head. "Have you forgotten about our truce?!"

"Who cares about a dead RED member?" Jane barked, burrowing his foot further into the Pyro's back, which he responded by clawing the ground to show the immense pain he was in. "Think of it as a life for a life."

That statement bit right back at Dell, and Jane knew it. Sure, it was a way of redemption for losing their own team's Pyro, but the feeling of killing off another just didn't feel right. In all honesty, Dell didn't want to experience any more death.

"How are we ever going beat those damn machines if we keep slaughtering each other instead of them?" The Texan decided to fight back, continuing to use his better sense of judgement.

Jane growled under his breath, releasing the firestarter from the pressure of his foot and beckoning Tavish to lower his sword. "You always were the soft one…" The American spat out quietly.

"Even so, there's no way we can get the Pyro back to their base in the state it's currently in." Lance interjected, adding common sense into the conversation.

"Yeah, and I doubt anyone here is willing to look after Mumbles." Anthony added, folding his arms.

Without even thinking, the words "I'll do it" slipped from Dell's tongue. All eyes snapped in his direction, watching shockingly as he helped the feeble firestarter to his feet. The judgmental glances cast towards the tinkerer were enough to produce a dry lump in his throat, only one thought floating in his mind:

What the hell did I just agree to?

A/N: Woo hoo, Chapter 1 is out of the way and my writing spirit has thrived! I doubt I will ever abandon this story, so don't worry about that. Besides, it was fun to make!

The next chapter, like this one, should be another introduction towards Pyro and the base, and then the fluff buildup will continue throughout. Patience please. ~

P.S. For those of you wondering why I made Scout fall for the BLU Pyro, it's because I wanted to give the Flash Fire fans a sense of pride before I plunge them within the eternal depths of Texas Toast hell. Mwahahaha~