Hm... so I was on here for the first time in forever and I started reading a tf2 fic "The Lives We Take" I believe... and four paragraphs down this hit me... and ten minutes, two proof reads later this is what I got. So... enjoy the emo!Fluff?

Ah, the sweet bliss of a cigarette. It calmed him, made him feel whole again. It stopped his hands from shaking as he remembered all the men he had killed that day.

Why did killing people still bother him after so long?

A drag on his cigarette and the thought turned over in his mind as he lay back on his bed and covered his eyes with his arm.

His first kill flashed through his mind:

The beauty of it; the thrill that raced through his body as the man dropped at his feet with a knife in his back. He could do this. He could kill men for money while serving this strange company. Then the trembles set in. His body was racked with such shakes that he thought there was an earthquake before he realized that it was only his body moving, not his surroundings.

His knees gave way and he got a better look at the lifeless eyes of his kill. Had he really done that? Killed another man and thought he'd be perfectly fine? A black gloved hand grabbed his own and his gaze followed his arm to the hand, the cuff of the suit that matched the uniform of the dead man scant inches away, and then to those piercing blue eyes that had a tinge of pity in them.

"Here..." the enemy Spy was mercifully speaking French as he pressed two unlit cigarettes as well as a spare lighter into the still-shaking hand. "This will help the shock," the man assured him before closing his fingers around the cigarettes and lighter with his own hand. Still on his knees, the Spy watched his enemy coolly walk away as he tried to find his voice. It was not forthcoming though, so he turned his eyes to the cigarettes in his loosely clenched hand.

He had never smoked before, it was a bad habit and he knew it, but the trembling wouldn't stop. He shakily placed one between his lips and lit the end. Relief sped through his system and his trembling softened, less spastic jerks and more gentle shivering. Before he knew it, the first cigarette was gone and the second made its way to his mouth as he crouched next to his first kill still. His eyes looked over the body and settled back on the now glassy eyes. He felt indifferent to the man's death now, it didn't shock him so much as made him wonder if he'd do it again today and where he'd get more cigarettes if he did.

However, the Announcer had called an end just as he finished off the second cigarette. He tossed it to the dusty ground with a soft exhale of the last bit of calming smoke. His shivers weren't completely abated yet, but he was able to stand and had good enough sense to brush the dirt from his suit and straighten his tie before heading back to the base. He would put in an order to HQ and there would be a pack of cigarettes for him tomorrow morning. He also noted that they would be getting a new Heavy and Medic as he spotted the prone bodies of the duo across the field.

Spy's mind returned to him as there was a knock on the door. He stood and, pulling on his mask, walked over to the door and flipped the lock. He raised a brow when he saw the boy standing there, the familiar expression of a flighty rabbit on his face as he looked up and down the hall.

"Oui, is zere somezing you would like, Scout?" He asked, leaning on the doorjamb with a small smile. He knew what the child was there for, but if he was going to act like a kid running to his parent's room when he had a nightmare, then he could at least admit it.

"It's... I... c'n I sleep with you t'night, man? They... they won't leave me alone." He pleaded, looking limp and lifeless as he stood there with those big grey eyes. Spy nodded silently and stepped aside, holding the door open for the Bostonian.

'They' were the nightmares, the people he had killed. Either that day or the previous day or the first day... the dreams and nightmares came rarely, but after the fist few times, it had become normal for the boy to wander to Spy's door.

Spy soon realized that Scout either didn't see any implications in their sleeping together, thought they were good enough friends to warrant no awkwardness, or just really didn't care as long as the warm body wrapped around him was keeping the nightmares at bay.

Everyone has their own way of dealing with their demons. Spy smokes, Sniper broods, Demo drinks, Soldier whacks himself in the head until he can't remember the amount of men he has killed, Pyro is a mystery as always, Engineer loses himself in his work, Heavy is used to such things and has no qualms, Medic is a psychotic deviation from the Hippocratic oath who would prefer to cut a man open and explore his anatomy rather than have a conversation with him, and Scout feeds off of any trace of humanity that might still exist.

Why he hadn't gone to Engineer for that humanity, Spy wasn't sure. The man was certainly one of the more sane of the bunch. Perhaps he had and the man had told him to go back to his room and suck it up. It certainly wouldn't be too far off the mark for the no-nonsense Texan.

Scout was slipping his shoes and top layer of clothes off before Spy even got the door shut. He saw the boy a little better now that he wasn't in the dim light of the hallway. He looked tired, having run around all day and now, in the middle of the night, was forced into sleeplessness. Spy pulled his mask off and ran a hand through his short hair before replacing his cigarette back in his mouth and beginning to undress for bed himself. Scout watched him blankly from beneath the covers, taking up very little of the twin-sized mattress that each room was equipped with.

After putting his suit unceremoniously down the clothes chute, Spy moved over to slide into the bed next to Scout, the boy moving closer immediately before Spy could even settle himself upon the mattress. With a sigh, he removed his cigarette from his mouth and tapped it out in the ashtray on the beside table behind Scout before giving a soft grunt as he shifted both of their weight to the middle of the mattress, springs complaining as usual until they settled down with Spy's arms loosely drawn around Scout.

"Bonsoir, mon ami." Spy murmured with a soft yawn.

"Yeah, g'night..." Scout said, a bit of life returning to his voice as he absorbed Spy's heat and scent, glad for another warm body while the last vestiges of his nightmares plagued him. A hand started brushing through his hair soothingly when Spy saw that the boy wasn't sleeping yet and he found his eyes drooping and his mind clearing of anything that might keep him awake. He was soon softly snoring, cradled to Spy as the man's hand made a few more passes through his messy brown hair, attempting to tame it a bit with a small smile before giving up and settling down to close his eyes. His breathing soon matched Scout's and they both slept on, neither bothered by their conscience, at peace for a few hours until they would wake up and do it all again.