In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Twenty-Six: Fear

"How about now, Freddie?" He asks in my ear, quiet and meditated. "You afraid of me? Am I a threat?"

"I'm serious, please, stop it!" My fingernails dig into his wrist, but he maintains his stance. My eyes burn with tears. "Sniper."

"You wanna know the funny thing?" His lips graze against my ear. "I'm not even pushing against you."

"Yes, you are!" My hands shake.

"Stop fighting, Freddie," he urges.

I huff. "No, you're crazy, stop it."

"Then why isn't Pyro helping you?" He releases me for a short moment before forcing me against the wall again. I sob and keep my hands on his. "You're still afraid of me."

"No, I'm not," I claim, shooting my hand out to his neck. He stumbles back and watches me fall to the floor, tears dripping from my eyes and onto my arms. Sniper reaches out to help me, but I swat him away, laying on my side and refraining from crying. "I'm not- I'm not afraid of you."

"Look at you!" He yells. "You stupid fucking Sheila! You're laying on the floor and weeping and wailing and you wanna tell me that you're not bloody afraid of me?"

"I'm not," I sniff.

"Like hell you aren't! Do you hear yourself, Freddie?"

I cough. "I hear that you don't scare me. This is only happening because I don't like being grabbed and thrown against a wall to--"

"Holy Dooley!" He exults. "You're one massive galah." He offers to help me up again, and I decline again to get up alone, holding myself and walking back inside. He catches up to me as I wipe my face. "Freddie--"

"Don't touch me," I order as I keep my distance from him.

He puts his hand on my shoulder and I keep taking steps away from him. "Freddie--"

"Stop calling me Freddie, stop touching me!" I push him away and keep pressing onward. He grabs onto my shoulders, and I grunt as I thrash in his grip that tightens on my arms. "St-Stop it! Get your hands off- Get off of me!"

I slap him, his glasses falling to the floor. "Ah, you fuckin' wanker, shit!" I breathe heavily, glancing around at the lobby at the spectators. Pyro takes my hand and leads me away as Sniper follows. "Fre--"

"I'm willing to forget that happened if you are," I propose. "It's better that way." A woman stares unapologetically as she walks by.

"But it isn't, Freddie," he sighs as we start heading to our cabins. Pyro trails behind to stay uninvolved. "That's something you and I have to work out together."

"It doesn't exist if we just both forget about it." I stop in front of my room, Pyro ducking into his. Sniper and I both stare at each other, my eyes and cheeks still feeling warm. We seem to be studying one another, almost, as I notice the scar on his left cheek. "I- I'm sorry for hitting you. Goodnight, Mr. Mundy."

He boxes me in by putting his hands on my shoulders. "Promise me we're going to talk about it at the fort."

"What are you, a shrink?"

"I'm a dag when it comes to this sort of thing, Freddie, anything but ace. But you 'n I have gotta work this out. Don't think of yourself as a sunshine just because you've gotta talk about things. Especially considering we kill for a paycheck, you can't be carryin' baggage like this. It eats at you, and you need a clear mind for this." I sniff and look down to the floor to avoid his gaze. "Promise me."