Disclaimer: All Team Fortress Classic and official Team Fortress 2 characters do not belong to me.

Rating: Might be changed in the future/Rated for violence and language

Genre/Content: Drama, adventure, complicated friendships, and "possible" romance

Main Characters: Scout, Engineer, Medic, Spy, Sniper, Heavy, Pyro (+OC)

I know a lot of fans do not appreciate stories that contain OCs, but all I ask is that you read the story before judging right away.

Carry Me To A Silent Harvest

Chapter 1: Autumn's Glory

A seemingly quiet night was beginning to unveil across the rugged countryside; the once cerulean sky slowly mixing with a variety of warm colors while the sun began to melt into the horizon. Cool waves of wind swept up the autumn leaves, causing them to twist in an elegant dance above the ground.

The last rays from the sun lit up the remaining leaves on the trees, giving them the appearance of small fires that flickered in the breeze until the 'embers' would flutter down to join the rest. Vast mountains loomed over the scenic land and the sunlight gradually dimmed across them.

In the midst of the largest hill, an old bridge suspended above the grassy exterior. Its triangular structure appeared to be rusted, however, a few spots on it still gleamed in the fading sunlight. A railroad stretched across the top of the bridge, leading back towards the mountains miles away.

In the eyes of a stranger, all would seem peaceful on this mountain-side paradise, but this place was very much the opposite.

Anticipation filled the souls of all the men within the two opposing bases on either side of the valley.

Mission begins in 5...4...3...2...1...

The splendor of the silent twilight dissipated as the roars of war swiftly pierced through the peace, the land becoming a battlefield. Another battle between the RED and BLU team was under way and both sides were fighting with all their might to conquer the Viaduct. To beautiful pieces of country to barren gravel pits; the mercenaries from each team would fight until the death for pieces of land for their employers, and the battles were far from pretty.

The ear-splitting sounds of the crashing rockets and explosives thundered throughout the area. Scarlet red fire engulfed everything it touched and a never-ending frenzy of bullets shot across the field.

Seconds flew by..

Minutes passed…

Blood was shed, the ground was tainted with debris, bones shattered, and the cries of hostility still rang loudly.

Within a calmer area of the battleground, a BLU sniper scanned the scene. He watched his team members die one by one. Even a few members of the opposing side eventually took their fall, but the infamous Respawn system kept the vigorous fight going, sending the members back into the turmoil seconds after their death.

The RED and BLU corporations were definitely lucky to possess such mind-blowing technology: cloaking devices, teleporters and even a machine that cheated death on a daily basis.

The Sniper's eyes narrowed at the sight of the quarreling men before him, but a small grin formed on his face even after viewing more of 'his' team's downfall. A quiet "heh" escaped from his mouth as he walked back towards his base, passing a few of the BLU mercenaries who were eager to get back into the fight.

A few of his accomplices even bumped into him along the way, but considering the RED team was currently overthrowing the Viaduct, they barely paid the middle-aged man any attention.

His smirk grew larger as he spotted the BLU Soldier instructing a Pyro of a new strategy in hopes to retake their land. The man with the gas mask tilted his head in confusion while listening to the extremely loud Soldier's commands. "Mmmrph..?" He mumbled, the mask muffling his confused words.

"For God Sakes, you sorry sack of scum!" The Soldier threw his rocket launcher effortlessly over his shoulder as he continued to loudly spit out his words."This plan will ensure OUR victory!"

The Sniper calmly went in their direction, however they did not seem to notice the man. His footsteps were being drowned out by all of the explosions and gunshots much to his advantage.

He almost laughed at the silly plan that the idiotic Soldier was powerfully spewing at the pyromaniac. Soon after, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cold metal object, his fingers snaking around the handle.

With a few twists and flips of the two rotating handles, the concealed blade finally made itself visible. Step after step, his form drew closer until the anticipation began to overwhelm his tall form. He never got tired of the deceit that he carried out on a daily basis, and the mere thought of his cruel actions made the man almost too giddy on the inside.

The Soldier had given up on Pyro fully understanding his 'flawless' plan and was preparing to reenter the battle.

Eventually, the bearer of the knife was directly behind the flame-loving mercenary.

The Sniper's arm began to lift up, fluently flipping the blade downwards and allowing it to hover over the fire maniac's spine.

"Yo, batter up!" a voice blatantly called out from behind him, freezing the Sniper's movements completely.

The departing Soldier swung around at the sound at the voice. He growled upon sight of the knife in the Sniper's hand and instantly retaliated. "SPY!" He pointed his large weapon directly at the aggravated man, ready to pull the trigger. Before he could fire, the owner of the unexpected voice quickly approached the scene and jumped above the Pyro. Then, by kicking against the masked figure's head, the RED Scout launched himself towards the crazed patriot.

A cocky grin stretched across the Bostonian's face as he slammed his aluminum bat right into the Soldier's jaw, feeling a tinge of excitement when he heard his bones crack.

"Arrghh!" A short grunt of pain rumbled in the Soldier's throat, his head violently being thrashed to the side. The sudden attack from the younger mercenary caused him to jolt his weapon slightly to the right just as he fired the rocket launcher.

A gasping sound erupted from the Pyro's mask as he whirled around, but the still-disguised RED Spy managed to jam his butterfly knife into his shoulder before the rocket smashed into the ground next to them. They managed to avoid being hit by the projectile, however, the missile detonated upon hitting the terrain. The impact knocked both mercenaries to the ground, both letting out a yelp of discomfort. The blast sent dirt and a few pebbles of concrete straight up into the air, then all came tumbling down right on top of the men.

The only one who was unaffected by the rocket blast was the Scout. His bright blue eyes were beaming in excitement while he viewed the motionless Soldier lying in the dirt.

"Scout, you imbecile!" the Spy shouted at the taunting boy while his Sniper disguise dissolved. How many times was the boy going to blow his cover?!

"Whoa! Did'ja see dat?!" the young man laughed, his familiar Boston accent causing the Spy to cringe. Scout was completely oblivious of the shower of debris crashing just inches away from his sneakers and he bounced in excitement as he watched the enemy Soldier twitch a couple times. "I think I just broke his fuckin' neck!" His fingers curled into a fist against his mouth while he continued to gloat.

Spy snarled while glaring daggers at the Scout, but his attention averted to the angered Pyro who was currently approaching the both of them. The previous loud noises attracted a few other BLU team members as well. Most of their weapons were pointed at the loud-mouth and the Frenchman. Some even began to charge at them, yelling furiously. Spy got to his feet, and brushed the dirt from his pinstriped suit.

"Hey, Spy! I'm talkin' ta you!" The younger man paid no mind to the approaching BLU team, and just continued his ramblings about his quick victory.

Ignoring Scout, the foreigner searched his suit for the revolver that rested within, and instantly began to fire it at the Pyro once it was freed. The Spy growled at how many bullets he was taking, but a hint of satisfaction spread on his face when the mumbling abomination let loose one final muffled scream before falling to the ground.

The Frenchman calmly straightened his collar and gave Scout one last intimidating glance before cloaking in mid step, his form disappearing from the field.

With a pouty huff, Scout finally focused on the enemy team rather than his accomplishment and began to run in the opposite direction. "Yeah, well you're welcome!" he called out, then began to run along the outlines of the battlefield, warily judging the enemies movements.

The adrenaline pulsed through his veins as he dodged several bullets, but one managed to scrape across his cheek. After shoving his trusty bat into the duffel bag on his back, he swiftly turned his body. Effortlessly running backwards, he reloaded his Scattergun, then fired several rounds into the closest enemy. As soon as the opposing member fell with an agonizing cry, the Scout proceeded in running forward and fully escaping from the flurry of attackers. Most continued to trail him, but a few attempted to find the Spy who was probably still lurking around their base. He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk, noticing a single BLU Demoman heading towards the center of the Viaduct.

After getting a good peek at the rest of the BLUs, the Scout pressed a small button on his yellow headset, activating the talk setting on the device.

"Yo, some of the BLU fags are headin' back towards their base!" he yelled into the mic while evaluating the enemy team. His speaking had no trace of exhaustion whatsoever, despite how much he had been running that night.

The rest of the REDs listened carefully to his voice coming from the other side of their much smaller earsets or walkie-talkies, two of their biggest means of communication on the battlefield. "The closest one ta you guys is 'bout 90 degrees to the left of the center point. Looks like he's hidin' bombs unda' the leaves! He thinks he's pulling a fast one on us!"

The RED Medic winced at the volume of the Bostonian's voice coming through his earpiece and placed a gloved hand over his ear as an instant reflex, however, he acknowledged the newly given information.

"The rest are comin' ta you! Let's waste em!" The Scout concluded.

"Come along now, Doktor." bellowed the Heavy who stood close by, his Russian accent rough and thick.

"You heard the man! Do not allow the cowards to hide out in their base! We will force them out and we will claim this land as ours!" screamed their Soldier, his fingers tightly grasping a brass bugle. He inhaled sharply before blowing into the mouthpiece of the instrument, letting out a far from harmonic call, however, the fanfare was just enough to spike all of the nearby teammates' adrenaline.

"Charge!" was the last thing he yelled before most of the RED and BLU teams bolted towards each other. Both sides rushed to the middle of the field—most fired their weapons, and a few even fought diligently with their fists. At times, foul play seemed to be the only option if the moment truly called for it in the eyes of the determined mercenaries.

By this time, the sun had fully disappeared from the sky and night took its full control over the Viaduct, wrapping a dark blanket over the fall setting. There were limited light sources, although they were highly effective. One source being the voluminous amounts of fire that sprouted from the Pyros' weapons, some of the flames engulfing several of the smaller buildings and plants within the vicinity.

Even the smaller guns gave off a small sense of illumination, each shot showing off the fierce expressions that every single member on that field possessed.

From the sidelines of the heated warfare, an outbreak of flaming arrows pierced through the air, their destination being the heads of the BLU team. The culprit couldn't help but smile when one of his projectile weapons efficiently broke through the BLU Medic's skull, his small glasses being split in two in the process.

"Ahh. The poor bloody bastard.." mumbled the Sniper, one of his eyes still gazing at the mess that he just made. "Thanks." He gave his accomplice a quick thumbs up.

"Mhhhuumm." the RED Pyro had been standing with the Huntsman for the last several minutes, assisting him by lighting up his arrows for added on damage, and for his amusement.

"Looks like they need ya down there, mate."

His fire-loving teammate merely nodded then ran to aid the rest of his allies, finally feeling healed thanks to the Dispenser that was erected nearby.

A level three sentry gun stood fairly close to the RED base, shooting down any enemy who barely entered its field of vision, its watchful eye being highly lethal. Its creator continued to maintain the territory of the left side of the Viaduct, letting a few hearty laughs considering the signs of their imminent victory. Of course, the Engineer was always optimistic.

Someone had to be, anyway.

This war had become a way of life for the eighteen men from the two teams; in fact.. for some, it was the only thing that they knew. Fighting over a handful of land, stealing classified information, and continuous attempts to wipe the opposing team off the face of the planet? Nothing out of ordinary for the mercenaries. Just another day.

In a sense, an insignificant number of members did not even view this as a war at all, but more like an athletic competition.

They say that the lack of fear could trigger the most outstanding feats. That was the mindset of the REDs. But, perhaps the absence of distress could prove to be an Achilles heel.

But...of course not, they easily pushed that idea far away.

Both sides had their share of losses and wins, but that night, RED team was gradually taking over the valley below the bridge.

Countless bullets were buried into the bodies of the men and rockets continued to slice through the sky, some even crashing into their bases.

The Engineer had abandoned his sentry to aid his comrades, bravely striking down the ones who approached him with his wrench, then with his shotgun in hand, he pelted an abundant rain of shots at his opponents. Eventually, all nine members of the RED team stood in the middle of the field, guarding the point with their lives. With the colossal bridge hovering above them, its metal reflected the light that detonated from each of their weapons, its structure beaming just like the rest of them. The majority of the BLU team had abandoned their posts as well, their new destination being the center point.

Mission ends in 5...

Another onslaught of sticky bombs was hurled at them, the blue objects spinning at a rapid pace.

"Whoa! Incoming!" shouted the Scout. Two of the bombs exploded in mid range, causing the frontline of mercenaries to lose their footing. The spiked weapons that were hidden underneath the fall leaves along with the newly released ones were messily blown away thanks to the Pyro's air compression blast, sending the small explosives right back at the BLUs.

4…..

The erupting projectiles were thrown back at their enemies, but since the REDs were so close, it would be expected that they received plenty of damage just as well. Cries of pain echoed throughout all the members within the center of the valley, but the fight still went on.

"Don't you die on me, ladies! Hold this point!" The RED Soldier's words were still booming, and although his rocket launcher had ran dry, he still had his shotgun to retaliate against their adversaries.

3…..

"MEDIC!"

The Medic's face contorted with anticipation, his lips forming into an excited grin while his eyes remained focused on his teammates. The red ray from the Medigun continued to make its way towards a single mercenary at a time, the warm light soaking into whoever needed it most. Their own team's Demoman launched bombs towards the BLUs, bringing on another string of clamorous explosions across the field, while the Scout picked off any enemy who attempted to run away or whoever stepped too close to the center.

2…..

"Haaarrrrgggghhh!" The Heavy unleashed a shower of bullets towards the few BLUs who were left, each tearing into their bodies and ripping their already weakened features to shreds in a violent manner. His minigun spun rapidly, the mouth of the weapon seemingly spat fire while it continued to unleash the Russian's wrath.

1…

The remaining BLU team members fell to the ground, blood outlined their unmoving forms—the roar of the guns gradually dying down with them.

"Victory..." Even in the hour of triumph did the Administrator's voice sound threatening.

Breathing heavily, the winning mercenaries simply stood their ground before the realization of their successful mission sunk into their tired minds. A few cheered, and the others just nodded their heads in acknowledgement.

The Viaduct was theirs. The BLUs would be forced to retreat after they respawn, and they will find a new place to settle until they return to attempt to reclaim the mountainous valley again. That normally lasted until they had their eyes set on another piece of land that held much value to the TF Industries. Of course, they only followed orders from the Administrator, and until then, they were going to celebrate their achievement.

The team happily but exhaustively trudged in the direction of the damaged building which had became their makeshift base during the time. They have been fighting for the Viaduct territory for months now, so a well earned rest was to be expected. Plus, a huge win for the Reliable Excavation Demolition team meant that their pay would be an extravagant amount.

After a match, the area was nothing but beautiful. Their base was now caked in mud and the smell of smoke would make one's eyes water just by stepping into the building. Windows had been blown out and blood smeared across the walls. Pieces of glass were scattered across the floor, fusing together with the puddles of red liquid. The Respawn system took care of all the bodies, but the metallic smell still lingered throughout the Viaduct stronghold.

The sight didn't seem to affect the jolly mercenaries as they walked through the hallway of their base. It would seem like this war was like a game to them; a happy way of life considering the expressions on their faces. Most were covered in mud and blood, but they hardly paid any attention to the unclean substances.

"Good job out there, lads. Another win for us!" Sniper said while trying to crack his back.

The Pyro did a quick twirl and clapped his hands, agreeing with his comrade. "Mrrphhh!"

"All thanks ta me!" Scout patted his chest with his usual overconfident grin. The looks that he was receiving from his teammates made him wince subtly, but his smirk remained on his dirtied face while he shrugged "Well, I guess you guys helped out a lil' bit."

Knowing that throwing a comeback at the young man would spark a longterm argument, the Spy bit down on his tongue, holding back the temptation to go against the Scout's words.

"Ya know they'll rue the day they crossed us!" boomed a drunk Demoman, his words loud and slurred. "Think the bloody bleedin' devils ever get used to their arses being forced up'a tree?! 'Till they seewhut thur' in ta, we'll be 'roundtheway-" The scottish man continued his ramblings until his words became gibberish.

The Sniper tilted his head slightly, but gave the demolitions expert a friendly grin. "Right! Whatever you say, mate!" he said while giving him a rough pat on the back. His smile slowly disappeared whenever the Demoman fell forward right after the playful gesture, the colored man's face still bright with joy. The team cringed when his face slammed into the floor, then stared at the his immobile form for a while until someone bothered to speak.

"Godspeed.." mumbled the Soldier, stifling in a laugh.

"The boy done passed out again." The Engineer's low voice finally rang out, his tone sounding a bit agitated. He knelt down beside their unconscious friend, evaluating his condition. "He's out like a light."

"Fantastic." Spy's tone sounded uninterested as he opened his disguise kit, picking out a new cigarette from his large selection.. Medic's expression was close to the same, but a slight tinge of embarrassment mixed along with it.

The Texan slightly lifted up his construction helmet, lightly scratching his head. "Weeeelp.." he breathed, "Who wants to carry him to his room?"

"Uhhh.."

"Hmm.."

"Errmm. Um.."

"After you." The seven men then went silent, all giving each other questioning glances and attempted to gesture that anyone but themselves be the one to be the Good Samaritan for the night.

With a playful push, Heavy shoved Scout towards the drunk man, while a few more of the REDs happily agreed with the decision.

"What the hell?! Why me?" the youngest man groaned, his eyes narrowing to small slits.

"Why not?" The Medic had a devilish grin plastered on his face.

"I freakin' did it last time!" The Scout fumed, his scattergun resting on his shoulder and a dirty hand was placed on his bruised hip. "Make Mumbles do it."

"Mphhhmhhmm! Mmphhudda!"

"Well, gentlemen, I must bid you adieu." With that, the Spy resumed walking down the hall, leaving the remaining six to deal with the Demoman without his assistance.

The Engineer had no expression while he listened to the ruckus, partly questioning the maturity level within the group.

The mercenaries grew quiet once more when the double doors on the opposite end of the hallway swung open, then the sound of squeaking wheels overwhelmed the corridor. They stood and waited, knowing what the source of the noise was. A few of the members even began to feel uneasy.

A form approached them, pushing an old, rickety cart which contained multiple bottles filled with chemicals and a few other essentials such as towels, a small basket, a dustpan and a small knife. Three, long rods jetted from the back of it, close to where the person's hands grasped the wheeled convey. On the lower level of the cart, two metal buckets rested within, one even splashing water every time it rolled over a bump on the wooden surface.

The Spy curiously viewed the person as he drew nearer, however it wasn't enough to keep him present. The Frenchman simply walked passed the strange figure, and departed from the hallway.

The REDs couldn't resist the temptation to look over the unnerving individual who pushed the cart. Most of the person's face was covered—the nose and mouth being shielded by a dark red bandana while the custodian's hair was hidden by a rounded, Gatsby styled hat which was almost too big for his head. The clothing he was wearing were rather ragged. The long sleeves on his dark, brown shirt were ripped and tattered while his pants were neatly tucked into a pair of knee-high boots.

Strange contrast..

Scattered across the several contents of his shirt were small white spots as if bleach had been poured or accidentally splashed on the attire; the pants sharing the same attribute in a few areas. The garments definitely appeared to be slightly oversized. The fabric barely hugged his body.

Along with the squeaking from the cart, the items which hung from his utility belt jingled with every step.

One of his hands was protected by an industrial glove, the only piece of clothing that seemed to fit, however the other remained uncovered. This limb did not contain human flesh or bone, but was made from man-made materials. From the mercenaries point-of-view, they could only get a glimpse of his steel hand because the long sleeves concealed the rest, but that was just enough evidence for two or three members of the team to conclude that this person was indeed a robot—mostly the Soldier.

The Engineer bit the inside of his cheek when he spotted a few traces of rust outlining the knuckle of the prosthetic limb, much to his annoyance.

There were several other rumors revolving around the janitor as well. Him being an enemy spy, a cannibal, using his steel hand to commit murders without getting caught, him being the true end to the RED team members before them, and to the most absurd stories imaginable. The origin of the three scars surrounding his left eye triggered even more tales of his wickedness. Stories of the uncanny custodian were the gossip for the RED team when they were not fighting amongst themselves.

They never knew his name, and most didn't even want to, so they took justice in giving the rugged individual their own cognomen. Besides "freak" or "the other spooky masked guy" the name that stuck the longest was Ol' Dust.

The bill of the hat created a shadow over the character's eyes, however, a faint green could be seen when he returned the RED team's gaze. Ol' Dust's most powerful attribute had to be those eyes. They were a pale shade of green with a subtle tint of ocean blue mixed within, however a ring of burning amber circled around the pupils. The hazel irises always caused some form of uneasiness for the others. Maybe it was the dark circles underneath them, or the strong colors emitting from the center, but most of all, it was the apparent form of bitter hatred blazing within the pair.

"What are you lookin' at?" The Scout finally spoke, feeling a tad bit intimidated by the newcomer's threatening look. Then again, the youngest mercenary always had an itch to fight someone, whenever and wherever he was. The owner of the cart simply narrowed his eyes at the Bostonian's rude remark, the gaze appearing to be rather hostile, but did not cease from walking down the hall. Scout scoffed when he received little to no response from the shady character, and only intensified his glare when the custodian passed by the eight mercenaries. "Yeah, you betta' keep walkin'."

Soon, the mercs watched as Ol' Dust walked to the entrance of the base, then began to set up all of the gear that was available within the cart. Finally losing interest with him, both the Soldier and the Scout went to the drunk man on the floor, each throwing one of the Scottish man's arms around their shoulders, hoisting him off the ground.

With that, they began to walk towards the exit of the corridor, leaving Ol' Dust alone to work. On the way, they were far from being quiet during their tread through the hall. The chatter mostly came from the Scout, rambling words along the lines of how he could have easily taken Dust down if he tried something stupid. Most of the sober team members had at least one comment about the previous confrontation as well.

From the corner of his eye, the victim of the gossip watched as the last of the mercenaries entered the second set of double doors which lead into the heart of the base. Finally, they had departed from the hallway. A low grumble came forth from the custodian, the voice being slightly muffled due to the thin bandana that covered his nose and mouth. He scanned the newly deposited dirt that trailed along the wooden floor. The contents from the muddy footprints mixed with countless droplets of blood which poured into the cracks in between the unpolished planks.

How lovely—as if the shattered glass, broken wood, and scattered ashes weren't enough.

Of course, this was just a daily routine for a janitor who worked within the Reliable Excavation Demolition base.

Ol' Dust's metal hand creaked loudly when he reached for the mop, its finger movement hardly being able to function due to the rust that surrounded the mechanical joints.

He had to get that fixed very soon, for he had plans for the next day. He had his own way of celebrating a victory.

A smile formed underneath his bandana as he began to run the mop across the filthy floor, the thick contents of red blood mixing with the bubbling chemicals that quickly spread across the wooden planks.

Note: Just in case people aren't familiar with the Viaduct, the map was also used in the Mann Vs. Machine official SFM video! If you haven't seen that, I highly recommend watching it! Instead of snow, just picture a fall setting for this story! Ta da!

I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter of the story and thank you for your time! This story is just for fun! Haha If you have any more time to spare, please leave a review if you'd like!