Well, here's another little oneshot to plug into my little TF2 universe. I didn't prewrite this one, so while I did proofread it, I'd probably expect some weird spelling or terminology.

This actually relates a bit to something I'm pretty sure is canon. I didn't know if there was a reason Soldier hated technology, or if he was just being paranoid. While it's most likely the latter, I figure the former makes for a better story.

Also, there's mentions of some themes early on that you might not agree with, so for this story I warn you that the characters' beliefs and opinions do not necessarily reflect mine. I just figured it was important to remember the time period.

Like every day at the map of Sawmill, the weather was absolutely disgusting. The rain kept making the mercenaries slip on the slick grass, and each team always returned to base covered in grass and mud stains.

The RED and BLU teams had only been formed a few weeks before, and while they did constantly argue and fight with each other, some mercs had established relationships with each other.

Heavy and Medic quickly realized the benefit of teaming up in battle, and that led to them becoming fast friends off of the battlefield. Demoman wasn't exactly popular with his team, but Soldier had surprisingly been the one to seek his friendship, and they often teamed up against the enemy Engineer. Sniper mostly kept to himself on and off of the battlefield, but would sometimes socialize with the team, if Spy hadn't already sought him out for some reason or another. Scout held an immediate disdain for the spook, but he would freely chat with anyone else, especially Engineer or Pyro. No one knew what to think of the masked beast for a long time, often calling it a thing, or a freak. Once Medic had given them all their heart transplants, however, he couldn't find any evidence of breasts on the pyromaniac, so it was generally accepted as a "he."

At one point, the RED Scout hid by the shed on his team's side, opening a can of Crit-a-Cola and downing it all in one go. It was a simple sugar fix of his, but he'd quickly discovered that it did amazing things with his energy level, so he'd started drinking it on the field. With a loud jeer to the entirety of BLU, Scout ran for the sawmill to capture the point, crushing the empty can and carelessly tossing it to the ground.

Some minutes later, the RED Soldier got into a rocket-jumping race with his BLU counterpart, shouting girlish insults at each other between jumps. The RED was severely injured, his head and chest bleeding profusely. He was trying to take refuge in the Resupply Room, for even he wasn't so stupid as to fight a battle he couldn't win. One he couldn't win yet, anyways.

After one tremendous leap, Soldier tried to use his time in the air to reload his rocket launcher. Sadly, he misjudged exactly how much time he had, and he landed on the ground with a hard crunch. With a yell, he stumbled and fell, but he quickly picked himself up, switching his rocket launcher out in favor of his shotgun, running backwards to fire at the advancing BLU. Unfortunately, this caused him to step right over the forgotten can, slick from the rain, and he fell flat on his back, stunned.

The BLU Soldier loomed over him, grinning madly under his oversized helmet. "I joined this team just to kill maggots like you."

Moments later, the RED woke up in Respawn, yelling at the wall about damn hunks of scrap.

(...)

"Hnn," Sniper hummed, only somewhat interested. "Wonder wot got his knickers in a twist."

"When it comes to that buffoon," Spy commented, blowing out a thin puff of smoke, "it might have been nothing at all."

"I s'pose you're roight."

Soldier had been yelling at the entire team for about thirty minutes now. That was a pretty normal occurrence, except it usually only happened when the team had actually lost. There was no apparent reason for this outburst, so the team only bore it for about ten minutes before trickling out of Resupply, leaving the man to continue ranting to himself.

"Perhaps someone should ask him what the matter is," Spy said, clearly having no intention of doing it himself.

"Well, it sure isn't gonna be me," Sniper grunted. "I loike my hearing, thank you very much."

"Hmm, indeed. I have yet to find you capable of knowing the difference between a decloaking Spy and a gust of wind."

"Shut up, ya bloody spook." The bushman couldn't help but smirk, though.

Soldier's screaming could be heard from all over the base, but another twenty minutes later, the military man finally stomped out of the Resupply Room, reduced to bitter grumbles. His stomach made a similar noise, so he made his way to the base's small kitchen. Upon walking in, though, he caught sight of the fridge. Narrowing his eyes to slits, he stormed up to it and started shaking it with such violence that its door started slamming of its own accord.

"Hey hey hey, what gives?!" Scout cried, having already been inside enjoying another Crit-a-Cola. Soldier's head snapped in his direction, and he started wagging an angry finger at the can in his hand.

"What gives, you ask?!" he bit out. "A can snuck onto the battlefield with the sole purpose of tripping me! That is sabotage, son! Sabotage! Some day all of these damned machines are going to turn against their creators!"

Scout chuckled, his smile both nervous and devilish. "Cans ain't machines, man."

"They are made of metal, and thus they are machines," Soldier concluded. "I will make it my mission to destroy every last machine before they can destroy us!" With that, the American marched off, kicking the poor oven as he passed.

Scout was silent for a moment before he let out a bray of harsh laughter, sloshing his drink all over the place. Man, this was priceless! The moron thought that the machines were after him!

Oh, man, wait 'til he told Hardhat about that!

(...)

"... an' den he started yellin' at da freakin' soda! I mean, can ya believe dat guy?!"

"All this because he tripped over a lil' can?" Engineer asked, face covered in dark grease stains from whatever he was working on. He was clearly busy, but apparently to Scout not too busy for one-sided chit-chat. Not that the Texan particularly minded.

"Yeah, yeah!" Scout nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "It was freakin' nuts!" He did an exaggerated gasp. "Dude, what if, like, what if ya like, built somethin'? As a joke?"

Engineer frowned at that. "Boy, that don't sound like a very nice thing to do."

"But we wouldn't be doin' it to be mean," Scout reasoned. "Just hear me out. Ya know da way he gets mad sometimes? Like, he starts screamin' and stuff, but he ain't usin' real words or nothin' and it's super hilarious..."

Scout started going on and on with a bunch of reasons that didn't quite go together, but the noise seemed to dull as Engineer started considering the idea with his own logic. It was, admittedly, kind of funny watching the man get mad, so long as his anger wasn't directed at him, personally. And it wasn't like the guy really thought machines were out for his blood. He was just upset about dying. He wasn't mad enough to actually believe it... Right?

Well, what harm could it do, really?

"So, whaddya think, Hardhat?"

"Huh?" Engineer blinked.

"Were ya even listenin', man? Ya wanna prank Sol or not?"

"Yeah, I was listenin'," the mechanic half-lied. "And I suppose I'm all for it. But this the one time I'm doin' this."

"All right!" Scout cheered. "So, here's my plan..."

(...)

The work week came and went, and since Scout was more careful about where he discarded his beverages, Soldier had all but forgotten his "war with the machines" thing. Which didn't stop him from yelling at his teammates all the time, but at least he'd stopped trying to destroy the heater in the rec room. Like the Texan had thought, it seemed that it had just been some phase.

On Saturday, Engineer and Scout were leaning against the kitchen doorframe, the runner with his soda and the builder with a cold beer. Heavy was hogging the entire table, carefully preparing himself a sandwich. Engineer's invention was finished, so he and Scout waited for Soldier to come in.

Soon enough, the American marched in, digging through the fridge for something to drink. He found a bottle of alcohol, and the Texan frowned, but he quickly realized that it was Demo's Scrumpy, so he didn't bother Soldier about it. He still didn't understand that weird friendship between the American and the black Scot.

Next, Soldier started rummaging in the tiny pantry below the sink. He soon found a loaf of bread, taking out two pieces and leaving the top heel face-up. Medic would be upset when he saw that. He was such a perfectionist.

Soldier stuck the two pieces into the toaster, pushing the tab down. While he waited, he dug through a cupboard until he found a suitable plate, finding a knife and some butter as well. Engineer was smirking, while Scout was trying to stifle his laughter by biting his knuckles. Heavy didn't react to anyone around him.

A minute later, Soldier's toast popped out of the toaster, and something else popped as well.

Out of the bottom of the toaster, four small thrusters burst out, making Soldier and Heavy jump and turn to the noise. The toaster hissed, and with a squeal, it took to the air. Its jets swiveled so that it was constantly changing direction, zooming around like a metal cheetah with a jet pack. Heavy started bellowing, using his body to protect his sandwich. Soldier completely lost it. He screamed at the top of his lungs, pulling his shovel out of nowhere and swinging it wildly through the air. Several times he'd turn and hit a cupboard or a counter, trying to knock the thing out of the air. At one point Pyro tried to stick his head in to see what the commotion was, but the toaster whizzing by inches from his face forced him to duck back out for safety. The entire kitchen was chaos, and Engineer and Scout laughed through all of it.

That is, until the toaster changed direction once more and hit Scout square in the face, knocking him out instantly.

(...)

When Scout woke up, everything around him looked fuzzy. The bright whites led him to believe that he was in Respawn, but all the cooing around him told him he was in the infirmary. Even as he realized that, Medic came into view, hovering over him with an expression of complete disinterest.

"Ah," he said. "Herr Engineer, he's avake." Seconds later, the Texan was also looming over him, his face clearly displaying his frantic worry.

"Scout," he muttered. "Are ya all right?" He got a groan as an answer.

"You'll have to give him some space," Medic told Engineer. "He's just gone zhrough a severe concussion. It's important not to overvhelm him. At least, so my professors vould tell me."

"Doc... Hardhat..." Scout moaned. His head really hurt. "What da heck happened to me...?"

"I don't know vhat zhe circumstance possibly could have been," Medic told him, "but you were hit in zhe face by a toaster, of all zhings. You must all be fools." Engineer just chuckled nervously.

"A what?" Scout asked in disbelief. "How da hell'd I do dat?!"

"Do ya not remember?" Engineer asked, immediately giving way to concern once more. Medic gave him a weird look.

"What's dere to remember?" Scout replied. "Sol was yellin' a lot. Gave me a hell of a headache."

"Oh, his memory is gone," Medic commented with some amusement. He actually seemed interested now that something was evidently wrong with his patient. "Soldier hasn't yelled at us for at least a couple of days, barring today, of course. Zhat is a lot of missed time. I vonder if zhere is somezhing I could do about zhat?"

Engineer just felt terrible about the boy, but even he had to admit that it had been funny, while it lasted. Even though Soldier had gone back to being his paranoid self- who knew that he actually had been convinced that machines were after him?- the Texan would gladly do it again, if it meant he could get another laugh like that.

Once he got around to fixing the malfunction with the thrusters, that is.

And that, my dear friends, is karma.

I had a little bit of fun trying to think of how Soldier would react. I hope you guys enjoyed it, too!