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Entry tags:
fic: The Wires All Lead One Place
Title: The Wires All Lead One Place
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Young!Miss Pauling, Engineer
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2,152
Author's note: Part of Loving Ghosts.
for Sarah. TW: canon typical blood and gore. TW: Child abuse?
1954.
The Administrator was surrounded in a spider's web of gold glowing wires. She sat in a chair, all the screens turned to static around her. The wires were stuck to her very body. Engineer stroked his soft beard. He looked up at the slight sound of her little mary-janes against the floor. Snap buckle shoes, slightly scuffed, slightly stained red through the mess she'd walked in. Her socks were edged with lace, and still wet.
Like red velvet, she thought. Spy had given her a bit of red velvet cake and she thought of how good it tasted quite often.
Engineer smiled. "Well, little Miss Pauling. Didn't expect to see you here."
His overalls were stained with oil and other fluids that were awful red. His gloved hands were about some tools she didn't know the name of.
She nodded at him. "I have to give my report," she said.
"My job is done," she said, this time to the Administrator.
Engineer lifted up his goggles onto his bald forehead. His eyes were gray, and surprisingly kind.
"Ain't that sweet. She looks just like you," Engineer said.
The Administrator looked up from the machines.
"I didn't hire you to talk. Get back to the task at hand," she said.
Engineer cleared his throat, and glanced down at the keyboards. He put the goggles back down, the smile long gone. "Of course, ma'am."
He reached into his toolbox and again began to tweak the many machines. There were always machines here, even in the cliff sides, or hidden underneath buildings.
"You brought proof you did your job?"
She lifted up the slightly damp Polaroid. She'd learned to keep her hands steady, and no longer flinch at the sight of the blood, and the stench of death.
"Good."
Miss Pauling licked her dry lips and waited for the sign.
"You are dismissed."
With that, she closed the door behind her. She looked back, but Engineer had his head down and didn't look up again.
*
Miss Pauling's earliest memory was of the base. To be precise, the horrific sound of shrapnel hitting the base as it was rocked with explosions. It would take years to realize it was a malfunction that caused an explosion. She had other, intense memories: the way the blooms would suddenly open up during the rainstorms that came up, and disappear as easily, and the brilliant sunsets across the red rocks.
None of her early memories were of a mother comforting her when she felt ill, or scared. Instead, she had to learn to ignore things the Administrator thought were trival.
Like taking breaks, playing, feeling sore or tired.
All things the Administrator looked down upon.
"My task, my task," she said under her breath, like a soft song, a lullaby. She had to put back the proof in the big metal things. She'd learned how to get the keys from the desk and open them, though tugging them took a lot more strength. Sometimes she had to go get help from Heavy.
The room was full of the metal things. She forgot the names of them, and it was like a kingdom of files. Files that would get shreadded soon enough.
Today, the door on the bottom came out easily.
She blew dust out of the way, and put the polaroid among the other files. In the back, she saw something slightly crinkled, old with age.
Reading files was bad. But, if it was put in the wrong place, she might be able to find where it was supposed to be. She pulled it out, and squinted past the flickering lights. A birth certificate. The doctor signed was Ludwig, though she couldn't see the last name. Several black bars had been placed over it. She knew all too well. Instead of crayons and coloring books, she had markers and data to censor.
Name: Sophie Anne Pauling.
Mother: Helen Pauling.
Father: [redacted] Hale.
It was just fragments of something, of nothing. She kept looking over it, a clue, a hint that she'd never even thought about.
Of course other children her age all had mothers, or so it seemed. She only knew of them from other people, from videos and books and pictures she'd seen in Spy's things.
"What do you think?" she asked the photo of a boy she'd never met. He never responded, but she felt a little less lonely. What would he say if he were here?
He'd say that she should look into it. He'd say that she deserved to know more, that they'd go on an adventure together to figure out this. And he'd smile the same smile that had captured her attention that first time. So sunny and carefree. Like nothing she had ever known.
She carefully removed it and placed it with other papers against her clipboard and held it tight to her chest.
It had her name on it, wasn't it technically hers?
Her pulse raced as she passed by other staff. She didn't remember their names anymore. So many of them would leave, never to return. Even at her age, she had already learned to not bother to look for them.
Only the mercenaries remained.
The piece of paper was put along with the stolen and borrowed photos of a life she did not have, of a boy who was not her friend, but how she wanted to be.
*
The door ahead closed.
"Helen, it's been so long! I brought you a freshly caught steak dinner, and that escaped traitor you wanted! And, he's just a bit roughed up. I figured you'd want to have some fun with him, too!"
Miss Pauling jerked her head up from the clipboard.
Helen? Her mind went back to the birth certificate.
And she remembered: she looks so much like you.
Saxton, that was his name. He ruffled her hair and left it messy whenever he saw her. He had a thick mustache and wore only small shorts. He was always fighting animals for some reason.
Was...the Administrator smiling?
No, it had to be a trick of the light.
Even if she had company, Miss Pauling still had to do her tasks. She had to do what the Administrator told her to.
The big man leaned against the wall, and laughed. "That's what you get for betraying the company, now isn't it? Thought you could outrun me in Australia of all places. My own home, where I know and have punched all the wildlife."
The door closed behind her. A sharp scream rose up so loud that it was above the sound of a buzz saw.
"What did you think you would accomplish? Was it worth it for the thirty pieces of silver?" The Administrator said.
The Administrator oversaw this one personally. Engineer was at the controls, far enough to avoid the blood. The harsh sound of a saw--and screams--filled the room. It only made the big man laugh.
Something warm hit her. Blood dripped off Miss Pauling's glasses. Eventually, she had grown used to these sounds. She didn't cry anymore. She did her tasks, just as she was told.
"Clean up, clean up," she said under her breath. She started with the small parts. A hand with a dull wedding ring shoved deep into a black trash bag.
She kept stealing glances at The Administrator, but she never turned her way. She was too busy with the man, or what was left of him. And the big man didn't look her way either.
"Administrator..."
The Administrator glanced down at her. "You needed something?"
She searched the Administrator's face for some kind of answer. Their hair was the same color, though her eyes were a deep brown.
She couldn't bring herself to say the word mother across her lips. No matter how much she looked, the words didn't fit the Administrator. Maybe she'd even be reprimanded if she said such a thing. Like the time she'd spilled water on the documents she was supposed to copy.
"No," she said.
"Good. Don't interrupt me while I'm doing important work. I wouldn't want these saws to accidentally hurt you."
This was the closest thing to kindness the Administrator ever showed. Her task done, Miss Pauling dragged the garbage bag behind her. It already had a horrible stench that she was getting used to.
From the corner, something moved. Blood dripped from a gloved hand. "Go on, take the garbage bag. I'll help you carry it. I've already done what I need to do."
The Administrator gave him a hard look, but he did not flinch. Strange, few people could stare down the Administrator without apologizing or begging for their lives. But Spy did.
The door closed behind her. It was nothing but cold metal all the way down. The sound of the trash bag filled the hall, and the beeping--always the beeping.
"I'll take it from here."
She looked up. If she focused, there was just a faint blur where Spy was. He wasn't completely invisible when he moved.
"I have to do my job," she said.
"Merde, you're but a girl. You deserve a moment's rest, and far more. Allow me to at least do this for you."
She glanced up, to where his face would be, had he been visible.
"Have you been taking lots of pictures?"
"Pictures?"
"Pictures of happy families," she said softly.
"Later, ma petite," he said.
Miss Pauling stared down. Blood had gotten on her hands and now they were unpleasantly sticky. The stench was stronger, now. But they would only get worse as she had to do more.
"All right," she said.
He muttered something under his breath and bent down. He pulled a handkerchief from some hidden pocket in his suit and reached out. She took a step back.
"Don't worry, I'm just cleaning you up."
He wiped away the blood on her cheeks, and pulled off her glasses just long enough to clean them. From what she had seen in magazines she had to bring out, in stolen pictures, many happy families had this.
She didn't.
"There. Now you can see without tripping. Though you still might. Some children run all about, until they get skinned knees."
Does Liam do that as well?
"Go on...back to your room. Go take a nap. You deserve it. And be careful not to skin your knees," he said.
She looked back into the hallway, but there was nothing but the sound of fans and beeping machines. The rooms muffled the screams, and Spy had disappeared somewhere.
He hadn't even said goodbye. But, Miss Pauling was used to disappearances. As she headed back to her little room on the base, free of any toys, stuffed animals or pictures of her mother, she hoped that one day Spy and Engineer wouldn't be like all the others who simply never came back, and she had to help bury later on.
*
That night, a few new photos were dropped close to her room. She lifted them up and took in each smile, each happy face.
"Do you skin your knees a lot, Liam?" she said to the pictures.
tons and tons, she imagined him saying back to her.
And she knew these things were true:
She had the fragments of a birth certificate. Her name was Sophie Anne Pauling. Her mother's name was Helen. the Administrator's name was Helen. She'd heard Mr. Saxton Hale call her that. She did everything the Administrator told her to. She would always do everything the Administrator told her to.
She was getting good at killing and cleaning up bodies. That would make the Administrator happy, or something like it.
And that was life.There wasn't any room for anything else. No catching butteflies, or running about, no hopscotch or baseball in an empty lot. No teddy bears to chase away the nightmares and the screams, or a mother to kiss every boo boo.
This wasn' true, but she held tight, like a blanket to keep the cold out: her closest friend was a boy named Liam Dempsey from Boston. She went to visit him daily. They played tag--she'd read a magazine once and fixated on the game of tag as it was described. (She felt like she was reading about another time or land when she read about happy children.)
And every day he said I'm so glad we're best friends, Sophie Anne Pauling, we're gonna be best friends forever. Pinkie swear. You're just the most fun girl I ever did meet.
She would hold out her hand, and pretend he held tight to hers, because the ghost of a fantasy was the closest she had to a friend.
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Young!Miss Pauling, Engineer
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2,152
Author's note: Part of Loving Ghosts.
for Sarah. TW: canon typical blood and gore. TW: Child abuse?
1954.
The Administrator was surrounded in a spider's web of gold glowing wires. She sat in a chair, all the screens turned to static around her. The wires were stuck to her very body. Engineer stroked his soft beard. He looked up at the slight sound of her little mary-janes against the floor. Snap buckle shoes, slightly scuffed, slightly stained red through the mess she'd walked in. Her socks were edged with lace, and still wet.
Like red velvet, she thought. Spy had given her a bit of red velvet cake and she thought of how good it tasted quite often.
Engineer smiled. "Well, little Miss Pauling. Didn't expect to see you here."
His overalls were stained with oil and other fluids that were awful red. His gloved hands were about some tools she didn't know the name of.
She nodded at him. "I have to give my report," she said.
"My job is done," she said, this time to the Administrator.
Engineer lifted up his goggles onto his bald forehead. His eyes were gray, and surprisingly kind.
"Ain't that sweet. She looks just like you," Engineer said.
The Administrator looked up from the machines.
"I didn't hire you to talk. Get back to the task at hand," she said.
Engineer cleared his throat, and glanced down at the keyboards. He put the goggles back down, the smile long gone. "Of course, ma'am."
He reached into his toolbox and again began to tweak the many machines. There were always machines here, even in the cliff sides, or hidden underneath buildings.
"You brought proof you did your job?"
She lifted up the slightly damp Polaroid. She'd learned to keep her hands steady, and no longer flinch at the sight of the blood, and the stench of death.
"Good."
Miss Pauling licked her dry lips and waited for the sign.
"You are dismissed."
With that, she closed the door behind her. She looked back, but Engineer had his head down and didn't look up again.
*
Miss Pauling's earliest memory was of the base. To be precise, the horrific sound of shrapnel hitting the base as it was rocked with explosions. It would take years to realize it was a malfunction that caused an explosion. She had other, intense memories: the way the blooms would suddenly open up during the rainstorms that came up, and disappear as easily, and the brilliant sunsets across the red rocks.
None of her early memories were of a mother comforting her when she felt ill, or scared. Instead, she had to learn to ignore things the Administrator thought were trival.
Like taking breaks, playing, feeling sore or tired.
All things the Administrator looked down upon.
"My task, my task," she said under her breath, like a soft song, a lullaby. She had to put back the proof in the big metal things. She'd learned how to get the keys from the desk and open them, though tugging them took a lot more strength. Sometimes she had to go get help from Heavy.
The room was full of the metal things. She forgot the names of them, and it was like a kingdom of files. Files that would get shreadded soon enough.
Today, the door on the bottom came out easily.
She blew dust out of the way, and put the polaroid among the other files. In the back, she saw something slightly crinkled, old with age.
Reading files was bad. But, if it was put in the wrong place, she might be able to find where it was supposed to be. She pulled it out, and squinted past the flickering lights. A birth certificate. The doctor signed was Ludwig, though she couldn't see the last name. Several black bars had been placed over it. She knew all too well. Instead of crayons and coloring books, she had markers and data to censor.
Name: Sophie Anne Pauling.
Mother: Helen Pauling.
Father: [redacted] Hale.
It was just fragments of something, of nothing. She kept looking over it, a clue, a hint that she'd never even thought about.
Of course other children her age all had mothers, or so it seemed. She only knew of them from other people, from videos and books and pictures she'd seen in Spy's things.
"What do you think?" she asked the photo of a boy she'd never met. He never responded, but she felt a little less lonely. What would he say if he were here?
He'd say that she should look into it. He'd say that she deserved to know more, that they'd go on an adventure together to figure out this. And he'd smile the same smile that had captured her attention that first time. So sunny and carefree. Like nothing she had ever known.
She carefully removed it and placed it with other papers against her clipboard and held it tight to her chest.
It had her name on it, wasn't it technically hers?
Her pulse raced as she passed by other staff. She didn't remember their names anymore. So many of them would leave, never to return. Even at her age, she had already learned to not bother to look for them.
Only the mercenaries remained.
The piece of paper was put along with the stolen and borrowed photos of a life she did not have, of a boy who was not her friend, but how she wanted to be.
*
The door ahead closed.
"Helen, it's been so long! I brought you a freshly caught steak dinner, and that escaped traitor you wanted! And, he's just a bit roughed up. I figured you'd want to have some fun with him, too!"
Miss Pauling jerked her head up from the clipboard.
Helen? Her mind went back to the birth certificate.
And she remembered: she looks so much like you.
Saxton, that was his name. He ruffled her hair and left it messy whenever he saw her. He had a thick mustache and wore only small shorts. He was always fighting animals for some reason.
Was...the Administrator smiling?
No, it had to be a trick of the light.
Even if she had company, Miss Pauling still had to do her tasks. She had to do what the Administrator told her to.
The big man leaned against the wall, and laughed. "That's what you get for betraying the company, now isn't it? Thought you could outrun me in Australia of all places. My own home, where I know and have punched all the wildlife."
The door closed behind her. A sharp scream rose up so loud that it was above the sound of a buzz saw.
"What did you think you would accomplish? Was it worth it for the thirty pieces of silver?" The Administrator said.
The Administrator oversaw this one personally. Engineer was at the controls, far enough to avoid the blood. The harsh sound of a saw--and screams--filled the room. It only made the big man laugh.
Something warm hit her. Blood dripped off Miss Pauling's glasses. Eventually, she had grown used to these sounds. She didn't cry anymore. She did her tasks, just as she was told.
"Clean up, clean up," she said under her breath. She started with the small parts. A hand with a dull wedding ring shoved deep into a black trash bag.
She kept stealing glances at The Administrator, but she never turned her way. She was too busy with the man, or what was left of him. And the big man didn't look her way either.
"Administrator..."
The Administrator glanced down at her. "You needed something?"
She searched the Administrator's face for some kind of answer. Their hair was the same color, though her eyes were a deep brown.
She couldn't bring herself to say the word mother across her lips. No matter how much she looked, the words didn't fit the Administrator. Maybe she'd even be reprimanded if she said such a thing. Like the time she'd spilled water on the documents she was supposed to copy.
"No," she said.
"Good. Don't interrupt me while I'm doing important work. I wouldn't want these saws to accidentally hurt you."
This was the closest thing to kindness the Administrator ever showed. Her task done, Miss Pauling dragged the garbage bag behind her. It already had a horrible stench that she was getting used to.
From the corner, something moved. Blood dripped from a gloved hand. "Go on, take the garbage bag. I'll help you carry it. I've already done what I need to do."
The Administrator gave him a hard look, but he did not flinch. Strange, few people could stare down the Administrator without apologizing or begging for their lives. But Spy did.
The door closed behind her. It was nothing but cold metal all the way down. The sound of the trash bag filled the hall, and the beeping--always the beeping.
"I'll take it from here."
She looked up. If she focused, there was just a faint blur where Spy was. He wasn't completely invisible when he moved.
"I have to do my job," she said.
"Merde, you're but a girl. You deserve a moment's rest, and far more. Allow me to at least do this for you."
She glanced up, to where his face would be, had he been visible.
"Have you been taking lots of pictures?"
"Pictures?"
"Pictures of happy families," she said softly.
"Later, ma petite," he said.
Miss Pauling stared down. Blood had gotten on her hands and now they were unpleasantly sticky. The stench was stronger, now. But they would only get worse as she had to do more.
"All right," she said.
He muttered something under his breath and bent down. He pulled a handkerchief from some hidden pocket in his suit and reached out. She took a step back.
"Don't worry, I'm just cleaning you up."
He wiped away the blood on her cheeks, and pulled off her glasses just long enough to clean them. From what she had seen in magazines she had to bring out, in stolen pictures, many happy families had this.
She didn't.
"There. Now you can see without tripping. Though you still might. Some children run all about, until they get skinned knees."
Does Liam do that as well?
"Go on...back to your room. Go take a nap. You deserve it. And be careful not to skin your knees," he said.
She looked back into the hallway, but there was nothing but the sound of fans and beeping machines. The rooms muffled the screams, and Spy had disappeared somewhere.
He hadn't even said goodbye. But, Miss Pauling was used to disappearances. As she headed back to her little room on the base, free of any toys, stuffed animals or pictures of her mother, she hoped that one day Spy and Engineer wouldn't be like all the others who simply never came back, and she had to help bury later on.
*
That night, a few new photos were dropped close to her room. She lifted them up and took in each smile, each happy face.
"Do you skin your knees a lot, Liam?" she said to the pictures.
tons and tons, she imagined him saying back to her.
And she knew these things were true:
She had the fragments of a birth certificate. Her name was Sophie Anne Pauling. Her mother's name was Helen. the Administrator's name was Helen. She'd heard Mr. Saxton Hale call her that. She did everything the Administrator told her to. She would always do everything the Administrator told her to.
She was getting good at killing and cleaning up bodies. That would make the Administrator happy, or something like it.
And that was life.There wasn't any room for anything else. No catching butteflies, or running about, no hopscotch or baseball in an empty lot. No teddy bears to chase away the nightmares and the screams, or a mother to kiss every boo boo.
This wasn' true, but she held tight, like a blanket to keep the cold out: her closest friend was a boy named Liam Dempsey from Boston. She went to visit him daily. They played tag--she'd read a magazine once and fixated on the game of tag as it was described. (She felt like she was reading about another time or land when she read about happy children.)
And every day he said I'm so glad we're best friends, Sophie Anne Pauling, we're gonna be best friends forever. Pinkie swear. You're just the most fun girl I ever did meet.
She would hold out her hand, and pretend he held tight to hers, because the ghost of a fantasy was the closest she had to a friend.