In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Sixty-Nine: The Mann in the Ceiling

"Baron," he repeats.

"Mona," I volley, not sure if we're on the same page of losing formalities. He starts approaching me, and the cinderblocks on my feet break as I back up closer to Salvador. He's slow and careful and lessens his eagerness when I stumble after tripping on my feet. He's sizing himself up to us, I think. There's no hostile energy present that's directed toward me anymore. He slowly looks at me, and we stare at each other. I notice the giant tail behind Baron, dragging on the floor behind him. Wesley was right. This is a rat too big for extermination.

He raises his arms above himself and grabs onto the vent opening, grunting as he lifts himself up. He snakes his way into the vent without making a single sound and being polite enough to pull up the grate along with him. Silent. That's what he is.

I'm a fucking mad woman. I'm going to be taken to a mental institution for hysteria or the vapors or something in the twentieth century. A giant rat-man coming out of my ceiling and asking for Medic so he can kill him.

I need a drink.

"Momo, we're fucking moving," Salvador quietly spews.

"He doesn't want us, he wants Medic," I explain. He puts his hands on my shoulders and shakes me.

"And if we don't give Medic to him?" His eyebrows are pressed over his eyes. "We have to tell someone."

I shake my head. "They'll think we're crazy. You'll think I'm crazy with the shit I've seen today."

"What else are we supposed to do?" He jostles me. "I'm mad at them, too, but they're the ones who know how to deal with this."

"We don't need them, Salvador, we can handle this ourselves."

He shakes me to the beat of his words. "Sur. Vive. Ing. With. Out. Your. Par. Ents. Is. Not. The. Same. As. Deal. Ing. With. An. Ad. Vanced. Rat. In. Fes. Ta. Tion."

"He's not a rat, he's a man. Medic was the one who did that to him." I pick Salvador's fingers off of me, and his face softens when I say that. "And I know Medic well enough to believe him. We're talking about a guy who revived me after being dead for three days with a magical tool that heals wounds instantly. We would be fools to not believe Baron."

"And what's the shit you've seen today, huh?"

"I saw a lady who looked exactly like me with a baby that looked exactly like you when you were young and a clone of Medic who told me to forget they exist."

Salvador blinks at me. "I'm going to bed."

"You go do that."

He blinks again before turning around and closing his door.

Baron slinks out of the vent, bones cracking as he stretches with a set of arms going up and the other pair pushing outward. I don't know what more he wants from me. I can't simply supply Medic to him, he has a family. His presence renders me unable to perambulate, as I don't want to spook him. "Ludwig... When does he arrive next?"

"I don't know." I shrug to reinforce what I'm trying to convey. Baron can't be real. All of this- ever since I stepped on the plane to Brazil- has to be a dream. If he is real, it shows what Medic is capable of. And how far he'll go for his own personal entertainment. Baron, despite being so large and menacing, looks weak. Frail. Appearing the way he does, it wouldn't be easy for him to get his hands on food without stealing from people. He's the kind to know not to bite the hand that feeds. At the very least, he won't have a reason to get violent with me if I supply him with necessities. "Are- Are you hungry?"

He's taken aback by my question, peaked eyebrows and mouth agape. "Ja bin ich." He stays planted in place as I inch over to the kitchen and open the fridge, taking out a leftover sandwich from earlier, opening up the parchment paper wrapping, setting it down on the counter, and deciding not to back away this time when he draws closer to sit on one of the bar stools. "Ist das für mich?"

"Das ist für dich," I quietly confirm.

"Vielen Dank, Mona." I think that was a thank you.

"Bitte." So many skills I could've learned from the team had I known I would've needed it. He uses his biological set of arms to eat, the extra two crossing over each other and hugging his body. I can't imagine the lifestyle change. Relearning how to use your arms and then controlling two new ones. Taking another bite, razor-sharp canines and a forked tongue sink into the fluffy white bread and tear through the lettuce, tomatoes, and meat. Pointed ears sit on the sides of his head. Physically, he's fucked up.

Although Baron has probably not had a proper meal in days, he's still slow with eating as he savors his food and chews slowly to create the illusion he's consuming more than what he actually is. Two smaller eyes rest under his real ones and are further back to be diagonal. They're fully functioning as they flick from his current activity to me regularly as his normal eyes remain trained on his objective. "Danke."

"No problem," I say as I take his trash and throw it away. The trash needs to be taken out already, boxes and plastic reside inside. I pull the garbage bag out of the bin and tie it so I can take it out on my way downstairs in the morning. Baron's gone when I finish, the vent closed once more. That man is definitely real, no matter how hard I wish he wasn't. The same way that woman was. So many thoughts swirl around my head, and I don't know where to put my attention.

The couple with a thousand faces. Rogue Mercenaries.

I'm limited on sources of information, but it wouldn't hurt to ask around. Engie might know since the business runs in the family. I should call him... Not tonight, though. I shouldn't push it too much. No, he's my partner. I dial his number. This sounds like a bad idea in hindsight. He's doing something for the Administrator. Someone picks up, but it's not Engie. "Reliable Excavation Demolition. Jeremy Southington, field and site inspection leader, how can I help ya?" I don't know what to say to him. "Uh... Ayo, anyone there?"

Suddenly, I remember two things. A favor. Scout owes me a favor. On Halloween, when we got back, and I gave him an extra contract. The blue shirt in Sniper's backpack. "You owe me."

"Huh?" He gawks. "Wait, are you Accomplice? If I can even call you that?"

"Scout, you owe me a favor," I assert. "I want to cash that in now."

"No, nah, it's expired."

"Honor among mercenaries. Keep your word," I sternly demand. "I need you to get something for me."

"What?"

"Go in Sniper's tower. There should be a bag by his couch. Go through it and see for yourself. We can talk about what you found later. Got it?"

"Whatever," he scoffs.

"Scout, I'm serious. My favor is less of you getting the thing. My favor is that you trust me with no questions asked on this one thing. I need your complete and total compliance with this because some crazy shit is going on and we can't afford to be at odds when all of this eventually comes crumbling down. So please, Scout, for me. Please, go and look through Sniper's bag in his tower. If you see anything else of interest, bring it to me."

"If it turns out to be jack shit, Kamico, I'm going to spy-check you personally."

I don't know what that means, but it implies nothing good. "Unlike some people, I don't turn on my teammates. You know where I live, I guess. And could you please not call me that? I'm still Mona, I promise."

"Yeah, we'll see. No questions asked," he seethes.

"No questions asked." I'm not deceiving him, but it feels wrong. I'm forcing him to trust me because there's nothing else I can do. Is this how I go about it, playing everyone like a goddamn fiddle?