In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Forty-Three: A Chance Meeting in the Bush

"C'mere," he beckons me with two fingers.

"No one else is here, you can say it out loud."

He shakes his head. "Closer, Freddie." I lean in and narrowly escape receiving a kiss from him as I immediately back out.

"You might be on the verge of this mortal world, but I'm not going against personal wishes for you. Enough."

"Fair." His entire face is sweaty, and his lips quiver. Almost as though he's afraid. I'd be scared as well, I don't know what I'm doing. I rest on my haunches with my hands in my lap before I grab the knife and wake the blade in the flame. He waits patiently, shifting ever so slightly in place as time goes on. I don't want to hurt him, but I have to do it. He's definitely going to cry out, so I could use his wallet to have him bite down on it and suppress his yells for a bit.

He moves his head as he watches me move around. "I don't have anyone besides me parents, and it's not like you had too much live for what with you not being able to have a bub on your own." I stop moving and stare at him. "There's no point if you've got nothing else to live for."

"I have family," I dryly oppose. "Three people. I raised them. They're what I live for. You have family, too, Sniper. Your parents, Sadie and Chance, Scout..."

"Doesn't sound like much. Mum 'nd Dad are prone to kicking the big one anytime soon. Scout doesn't need me."

"You don't need friends to make your life worthy," I soften up and look at him with apologetic eyebrows. "Sniper, please. Think about Alpha. You and I are friends. We might not act like it, but I'd like to be your friend. If you're not going to live for yourself, live for me."

"I'd be a burden on your back, literally, Luv." He sees me stick his knife in the fire again. "Crikey, at least let me have a ciggy first."

I set the knife aside to calm our nerves for a moment and pick up the pack of cigarettes, holding one up to his lips for him to hold as I take the lighter and set it for him. He uses his good arm to hold the cigarette. I hold off on heating up the knife again. I need to prep everything first. After cutting slits in his clothes where the bullet ripped through, I pull my tank top off and readjust my bra strap on my shoulder. It's stained with Sniper's blood already, and I can still feel some of the substance on my back matting my hair together. I cut my shirt into three long scraps and set them aside for now.

"You're not going to leave any behind," he states as he blows smoke.

"And what does that mean?"

"Ankle biters, tackers, kids. You can't have kids."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Yea it does," he argues, coughing. "It means th-that no one'll even wa-wan-w-want you as a missus."

I grit my teeth. This again. We're just goint to keep running in circles about this. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's stalling. "I'll just adopt. I can have a surrogate mother. I'm-- Pretty sure my eggs are fine."

He laughs at me. "Freddie, no one wants ya, Luv. I don't want ya."

"Good," I spit at him. "I hate you anyway." I lie and poke the fire around with the knife. Maybe he's just being this way because of blood loss. He doesn't mean it, does he?

"Thought we were friends a moment ago."

"Because you're fucking dying," I sternly fire back at him. "People are friendly to dying people." Stabbing Sniper to death is a vice. "You're assuming I didn't already have kids before that happened." I feel curious eyes lay on me after I taunt him.