fic: Deal Breaker

[bonnefois]

Title: Deal Breaker
Series: TF2
Character/pairing: Spy/Scout's mother , Scout/Miss Pauling.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 5k
Author's note:

Part of Loving Ghosts. For Sarah.



1969.

The door of his study slammed against the wall. "You son of a bitch coward!"

Ah, the moment he had been waiting for. He should've anticipated Miss Pauling's betrayal. He was well aware that she could not be trusted.

But he had expected she would betray him to the Administrator, not his very son.

Spy set aside his book and rose up. He faced his son calmly, as if he were facing the gallows.

Scout jerked on Spy's collar, dragging him down to level. "I should fucking kill you for runnin' out on my ma like that."

There was a fire in his gray eyes. He'd faced some of the most dangerous men and women alive, and left many of their carcasses to rot in the streets of Europe and America as well. He knew Scout's weaknesses and strengths intimately.

Scout was nimble and quick, but he couldn't take much of a hit. He relied more on dodging bullets than withstanding them.

Of course, it was easy to dodge bullets when every enemy that would take him down was stricken with a sudden case of being stabbed in the back. As ever, Spy was the guardian, the ghost at the window.

"Go on, hit me," Spy said. "It's only what I deserve."

Scout lifted his trembling fist. He shuddered and pulled back.

"What, are you going to be a coward? By all means, don't waste my time. Either punch me and take your revenge or let me get back to my smoking break."

"God, you aren't even shakin'. What kind of heartless creep are you? You--you're a friggin' robot. Your heart is made of steel. How could you leave her---us like that?"

Scout clutched his hands tight. The material of his suit ripped, as Spy was slammed against the wall. His case fell from his pocket and clattered on the floor. Scout made no effort to reach for it.

But he deserved this. Every harsh word, every blow. That and more.

"You even brought her into this. Were you laughin' the whole time at me when I came to you back then? Crawlin' on my knees to try and be like you?"

"Then Miss Pauling told you quite a bit, it seems," he said.

Had she betrayed him fully, blackmailed him and used this knowledge to her advantage, he would've understood. He'd expected the knife in the back, even planned it, but never for something like her falling in love. Not with a heartless girl like her. Then again, he'd taken this path over twenty years ago. And he always thought he'd been too sensible, far too detached and professional. And then he saw Colleen Dempsey across the room in a smokey bar, a widow taking tips to support her children.

Had it been the same for Miss Pauling? When given the chance between being a heartless killer and falling in love, she had taken the same route as him, it seemed. The path of a fool who would never know balance or peace.

But, he understood her choice. Just as he did when he made it those decades ago.

Scout let out a sob, and tightened his grip on Spy's shirt. His head was down, to hide the tears that surely had come.

"You...son of a bitch. My dad wasn't dead. It was you all along. You were so close and you let me spend so much damn time bein' lonely and wishin' I had a dad. You....You...fucker!"

Spy took this all with stony silence.

"You know what, you ain't better than me. In fact, you ain't even half the man I am. I am going to marry that girl, and one day we're goin' to have kids together, and I will never leave them cryin' like you did us. They won't have to run home, dodgin' rocks from the kids at school who think they're bastards. They won't have to get bloody noses to protect their ma who gets a rep as the town tramp, or watch tv shows and be jealous of that damn lucky hero who gets to have a father there. I'm goin' to wipe their tears and put band-aids on their knees and love them like you never loved us. And I am never goin' to leave her cryin' the way you left ma."

Scout let out a shaky breath.

"So thanks for nothin'. You can go back to your designer suits and fancy cars and know that you're the failure here, not me."

He released spy, and started for the door. But as reached for the handle, he turned around and began to pace. He was still far too chaotic with emotions to let the past alone.

"I should hate you, I should fuckin' hate you."

"You have that right," Spy said.

Scout let out a long breath.

"I gotta know: How could you leave ma? How could you leave us? Ma is so great, and she never moved on. There are thousands of men out there, all millions of times better than you, and she didn't marry any of them, even if it means we could've had someone there. It was always you, always friggin' you. Was there even a Jack Dempsey, or was it all a lie?"

"Jack Dempsey was no lie. Your mother loved him dearly, and he is the father of all your brothers," he said.

"So that's it...I'm the only one..."

He slammed the remains of the test on the table. "This is a damn lie, you know. I don't have a father, I got a coward who ran out on us. A coward who broke her heart over and over, this empty space she filled up with stories about somebody who never existed and never will."

Scout struggled for breath. He let out a low moan in the back of his throat. With his head bowed, Spy might have mistaken the moisture on the desk for condensation.

"I ain't cryin', shut up," Scout said. "You ain't worth a single tear. I-I ain't a friggin' crybaby, shut your damn m-mouth. You missed all my birthdays, the day I made that killer home run in little league. You never bailed me out, and even when you saw me again, I had to twist your arm to give me anythin'. Unless you have a time machine handy, you flunked out on ever bein' a dad to me."

Spy handed him his handkerchief. "You always said that when you cried. You'd ball up your fists when Michael pulled your hair again or called you a weakling. Dirt in your eyes, allergies, so many different ones. And you cried with frustration when you wanted to learn those times tables, though you said your eyes were just angry at how stupid it all was."

Scout looked up at him, incredulous, and groggy with tears. "What the....? How could you...?"

"I didn't miss all of those birthdays, even if you didn't see me there. I was always there. Watching over you, protecting you."

"Protectin' me? What a joke! You gave me a picture of myself passed out drunk with 'loser' written on my forehead for my last birthday. I guess at least you didn't give it to her," Scout said.

He chuckled. "I could not resist playing a little trick. Also, Miss Pauling inspects all of my photos. She's been known to remove quite a few of them, too. For some time."

"Miss P saw that? Fuck...."

"Remember when a baseball appeared in your room, as if it had fallen out of the sky. Signed, no?"

"What--I thought Miss P was behind that. That was you?"

"Yes. And many more... That day you looked up to the stands. You looked right at me, I thought you'd seen me past the disguise for a moment. I slipped a twenty-dollar bill down the street. You were so happy, you couldn't stop talking about how lucky you were. I knew I should stay away that it could be dangerous, but I couldn't stop. Even as I knew I was a fool, I couldn't stop. Little things. Change left for you to find, gifts hidden in your bag. Every chance I could, I'd fly back."

He became a ghost at the edge of his family's life.

"My lucky streak was you all along? Unfrickin' believable," Scout said. He shook his head, and gave him one last look, before running his hands through his hair. "I always was so lucky... Money right there, out of the air. I thought God must really love me. But all that was you, wasn't it? Sometimes durin' fights I'd just have the luckiest breaks. I thought I was just born lucky, but...Not even that was real."

"Every single time, and more. When you were in jail, I donned a uniform. You spoke to me, even. Well, maybe spoke is too gentle."

"You were that fuckin' asshole guard? Of all the places for you to show up. You been under my bed and in my closet hauntin' me?"

He gave a half smile. "I was the only monster there, I assure you. I would've chased out any other ghosts that tried to live there," he said.

A sudden dawning of realization came across Scout's face. "I'll be damned...The friggin' French ghost. That's why you reminded me of him. Why through it all I kinda liked you, even when you were an ass. I should've friggin' known."

"I didn't think you remembered. You were so young back then," Spy said. He shook his head and smiled. "And so loud, and determined to prove everyone wrong, at any cost. Ready to fight, even then."

Liam shook his head. He bit at his thumb, just as he had so many times, to hide away how long he'd sucked his thumb for comfort.

"You were wrong, Liam. I was there for so many important moments. Just out of sight, and always proud of you. And I never left your mother alone for long. I returned as much as I could. Even if I couldn't be there physically, I could watch over you. All of you. I always loved you, and I always have been proud of you. Even if I couldn't be there physically to show you that."

Liam's voice broke. "Why just that? Why'd I have to be alone? Couldn't you have thrown me a bone and told me somethin'? Let me know you were there more than that...I missed you so friggin' much. I didn't even know who you were, but there was this giant hole where you weren't. Every time Father's Day came around, it felt like a funeral over and over. Every time school wanted me to go to my dad for help for classes or somethin', I had nobody to go to. I missed you so fuckin' much and I didn't even know who you were."

"I hope you can do all that without men coming and threatening your family. I had the choice of keeping my family and finding them taken hostage, or in pieces. Once you get into this kind of business, you don't come back alive, you don't get to have families. I was a fool to try," Spy said.

Scout smirked at that. Scoffing at the memories he was too young to remember.

"If any guys come for us, it ain't me they gotta worry about. Miss P's way more brutal than I'll ever be. I remember one time, she put a guy face-first into a wood-chipper. He wasn't even dead yet, and she thought it was hilarious. Seriously, she laughed until she cried. I mean, sure I killed plenty of suckers, but that is some whole other level."

"She's a fearsome woman. I hope you know what you're getting into," Spy said.

"I was there, I know. She makes some of us, even Pyro look just like little schoolkids playin' with toy guns. I'd rather take on an angry Heavy than her. But, I ain't never had anyone like this. Somebody I was willin' to risk it all, even though there was this feelin' like I was jumpin' out without a parachute."

He pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't even know how to explain it. It was just so different, like this light in my chest. Like dramatic movie scenes brought to life. Like runnin', like flyin'."

"How surprising. You always were very skilled at talking. You've certainly practiced that skill into a fine art," Spy said.

"Yeah, and you're a jackass, as we're even. By the way, even if I don't totally hate you--even though you frickin' deserve it--I'm still pissed as fuck at you," Scout said.

"Yes, I expect so. I don't deserve forgiveness from any of you, least of all her," he said.

"She does, though. Through it all Ma didn't hate you, and she still don't. She was always tellin' us how handsome and what a hero you were. She said you died in a war. I guess you did."

"That was about Jack, her first husband."

"Nah, I think it was about you, too. The stuff she said, it wasn't about dad. She'd be all wistful like and talk about dancin' to songs but they were released after dad, er....Jack went to war."

"Perhaps, they don't call us spooks for nothing."

He took a drag of his cigarette, and rested against the wall. Scout came closer and sat down beside him.

"So, what's your deal, huh?"

"My deal?"

"I still don't know jack shit about you. Well, except that you're a jackass. I sure as fuck learned that well."

"Few do," he said.

"Does ma know about you?"

"My past? Some."

"So, fuckin' spill it already," Scout said.

There were so many tales he could spin. He'd taken on the faces of a thousand or more men in his lifetime. Then discarded those identities. Some left to the dead, others left to the fiction they were.

But, he'd done enough lying to Liam over his life. For once, he'd try and say that unfamiliar thing: the truth.

"I was an art student when Paris fell. All my dreams, my hopes, and those close to me were lost. My name is long lost among the rubble. I became a part of the resistance, and learned how to turn my art into masks, and costumes. Good enough that I could go beyond enemy lines. And then, I learned how to turn that art into murder."

He pulled off the glove to reveal his scars. Scout's face contorted in horror. Spy had seen that same reaction so many times, to surprises from comrades to movies he was watching. He'd perfected it, until he could wear Scout's expressions like a mask. He added in what he knew of Liam, the son he'd almost had to make the facade more realistic.

"Miss Pauling's hands are like that, too. She said it was an accident."

"I cannot say if hers was an accident or not. My personal guess is no. But mine was quite intentional. You see, acid does wonders for erasing fingerprints. Eventually the nerves are so desensitized until it becomes almost bearable. Of course, Respawn and Medic's efforts tends to regrow them. One day you might have to do this. Cut your foot off to escape a bear trap when being hunted in the woods. Choose between your children, or abandon your family to save them."

Scout grimaced. "You really are fuckin' clueless, you know that? I may be the handsomest, fastest and most charmin' Dempsey boy, but my brothers are way, way meaner and bigger than I will ever be. You think this mercenary group is angry? Ma went straight to the local mafia group and shoved a shotgun in his face when I got entangled with some robbin' rings couple years back. If anybody tried anythin', they would've been dead in the dock before sundown. All those mob guys knew not to tangle with a Dempsey boy, because they'd have to answer to ma."

"I know," Spy said. He smiled at the memory. "She did far more than that. She faced down Jimmy Flannery and lived. He was before your time, though."

"I heard plenty about him, sure. Everybody knows what a bad guy Flannery was. Everyone was as relieved as fuck when the fucker finally kicked it. Dead in the alley gutter, what a fuckin' way to go," Scout said.

"Don't let him be a legend. He was a coward at heart, and fell quite easily."

"You took out Flannery? Seriously?" Scout couldn't hide his incredulity, nor how he'd impressed him, even if just a little.

He took another drag of his cigarette, and neither confirmed nor denied.

"That was how we met. A rainy night. Jimmy Flannery lay dead in the gutter, and she thought I was a ghost. He'd tried to hurt her, you see."

Even now the thought of her panicked look that night made him want to clutch the handle of his knife. His adversary was long dead, and rotting in hell most likely, but he still craved revenge for the pain that man had caused Colleen.

"Then you were just a coward. You knew all along that we could hold our own, that you could protect us easily, you were just givin' yourself an excuse because it would be hard. You could just sit back and pretend like you'd atoned when you'd really just fucked up all around."

Falling in love had changed Scout. He'd grown from his puckish and unruly self to someone truly capable of caring for others, even if they were only a select few. Whereas he'd once seen nothing of himself, and only shades of her in Liam, now all he could see were reverberations of Colleen.

"You're so much like her. She never gave up on someone she loved either," Spy said. He shook his head. "At times, it's felt as if I've been watching life repeat in reverse."

And maybe, though he would never admit it, there were shades of himself. In the way Liam hopelessly loved Miss Pauling, even if he had to wait for her for months, even years. Even when it was hopeless, even when other paths would be far easier.

Just like Colleen had waited, a widow twice over. Once when she loved a man who died in Paris, and once when she loved a man who lost every name and bit of his soul in the war.

"I guess, I kind of understand her better. If I gotta wait until once a year to see Miss Pauling, then so be it. Because even if I gotta wait up all night, those few seconds are worth it. So if ma felt that way about you...then I guess I can't blame her. Because I'm a dumbass for love, too."

Scout pushed himself up. In that moment, all Spy could see were shades of Liam. The boy he'd seen grow up from a distance. The time he lost his first tooth and he'd left money under the pillow. The first home run and how he'd bragged for months.

Scout lingered at the door.

"If you're waiting for a happy end, you best look elsewhere. I'll never be the father you're looking for," Spy said.

Scout fiddled with the door handle, then pulled his hand back.

Scout let out a long sigh. He pulled off his cap, and ran his fingers through his short, light brown hair. "What I should do.... you know what I should do? A punch one straight to your head. That's what an asshole like you deserves."

Scout shook his head. "Ma would be so sad, though. Through all of this, she loves you, even though you're an absolute prick and the worst father ever. All this time I thought she just couldn't get over dad, but it was you all this damn time."

"She has two ghosts. Those stories she told about fathers wasn't a lie. He died overseas. Unlike me, he was a hero."

"I don't even friggin' get to have that. The rest of my brothers got memories of him, but I don't," Scout said.

"And I don't got memories of you, either. Many, at least. So, you were there the whole time, but I sure as hell didn't know. It don't get rid of the lonely years, that's for damn sure."

"I could lie to you, if you prefer, and tell you that it will get better," Spy said. "Lying is one of my better qualities and talents."

Scout continued on as if he hadn't spoke.

"But you know what? You ain't dead yet, so get your shit together already. I ain't doin' this for you. I'm doin' this because Ma loves you, and this will make her almost as happy as when I tell her she's goin' to get the cutest daughter-in-law in the world. Pour a drink for me. You and me, we're catchin' up. You got over twenty frickin' years to catch up on," Scout said.

"You could just be merciful and put a bullet through my brains instead of talking me to death," Spy said.

"Don't frickin' tempt me," Scout said.

But he smiled.

"You're an asshole, a hell of a prick, but you're still my dad. So man up and get those father lessons in, because you'll have to bring out your grandpa skills when Miss P and I have kids. And it's bound to happen eventually. Just look at all the brothers I got."

There were far less years to catch up on, for he'd been there. The ghost that lingered, that haunted the place with sudden presents and windfalls, with homework help and unknowing guardianship.

"You never remembered those stories I told you then, no matter how many times I repeated them," Spy said, but under his breath. Enough that Liam never heard.

"So you can fill me in again," Scout said. "But I'll start. All right, I was born in 1945."

"I was there. Well, not the exact moment, but soon after. I used to sing you these lullabies. I was the only one who could get you to shut up. Even then you had such powerful lungs. Always screaming...The more things change, the more things stay the same."

Spy smiled at the memory.

"So you were there in the beginnin'?"

"Before the men came and I was threatened, yes," Spy said.

"So, you tell me somethin' now. It's your turn," Scout said.

"There is nothing to tell. I am a man without a name, slated for hell, and I rightly deserve it."

"C'mon, that I already knew. Tell me somethin' else. You said you were an art student in Paris?"

"Yes, I am. The city of Paris was so beautiful before it fell to the Germans. The war seemed far away, then it came to our doorstep."

He took a drink and shook his head. "War can take so much from a man. But when I met her, I felt alive again. I tried to walk away...but I couldn't. I kept coming back. Even though I knew the best thing to do was to leave her life before I caused anymore heartbreak. I was too selfish, and loved her too much to stay away."

"I kinda get it. I mean, everythin' went sideways when I met Miss P. But In a good way. Before I met her, I never would've thought it'd be like this. Thought I'd be chasin' after every pretty girl until I got old. But all the pretty girls just don't compare to her."

"I should hope so. You know, you must set aside your flirtatious ways. She will not tolerate such things."

"Hey, no worries there. It's like other gals don't even exist to me anymore. I mean, sure they're there--and hot, don't get me wrong, I got eyes--but I feel so charged around Miss Pauling. She's just so--stunnin'. Other gals just can't catch up to that. Like they're last place and Miss Pauling got all the other places. The gold medal, the silver medal, the bronze one, and everythin' else. Like I know they're hot but I don't even wanna flirt with them? It's weird, but that's how it is. Guess that's love for you."

Scout brushed off his knees and stood up. "I gotta meet her soon, so I guess this is goodbye for now. But only for now. You ain't gettin' out of this fatherhood crap so easily."

"That's all?"

"What, you want a consolation prize?" Scout said. "A fuckin' ribbon?"

"I brought you into this hell. I could see no other way. Colleen, she was so worried you would die in prison. I rightly deserve any lingering grudges you have against me," Spy said.

"Hell? What are you goin' on about? This place is great! I got to meet Miss Pauling, the love of my life, and I make tons of money bein' awesome. I hit the fuckin' jackpot to get a job this great. I couldn't even imagine a place this great. I'm still gonna win the Olympics and get that boxin' title one day, but I'll keep this job as long as I can."

Of course, Scout only saw the surface of things. In many ways, he was an ideal worker. Despite his difficulty with secrets, he cared little for the deeper details. Most of his questions were only about Miss Pauling, and now that she was in his life, his focus had narrowed even more.

He seemed oblivious, even impervious to the corruption, and sheer cruelty of The Administrator.

"You have experienced death and pain, over and over," Spy said, his patience failing. "More pain than most men know in a lifetime."

"Yeah, but I always come back. As far as I see it, I probably would've seen all that anyways. Probably would've gotten myself killed doin' some stupid shit in Southie, and made ma sad. Now, I ain't goin' anytime soon."

"You're taken to battle for your very life every single day," Spy said.

Scout shrugged. "Ain't we all? If I wasn't in here, I'd be drafted and dead in 'nam right now. Instead of bein' sent home in a coffin with a flag on it, I'm makin' tons of money, and makin' sure that ma was always okay. As far as I figure, I got the better end of the deal. Don't tell Soldier I said that, though."

"And another thing, if you were makin' so much money, why were we in the projects? You didn't have enough money to spare a little bit?"

"I did," he said. He took a drag of his cigarette, and breathed out smoke. "She wanted to stay there. Too many memories, she always said. And she wanted you all to go to some college. Harvard, even."

"Harvard? Like that'd ever fuckin' happen. Sometimes, I swear ma has the weirdest dreams."

"Maybe her grandchild will," he said

"Good point. Any kid Miss P and I have is gonna be incredibly smart and the prettiest person alive. Harvard would take a look at the kid and go 'holy shit, this kid is so smart, we're just gonna give 'em a degree. They do that, right?"

"Honorary degrees are a thing, yes," he said.

"Thought so. My kids will have twenty of those free degrees a piece. Wait, just one thing. Why didn't you bring us out here?"

"And put her where the Administrator could attack her at any moment?"

"They could've sent a tank and ma still would've stared it down and made the driver get the hell away. You underestimated her, man. The Dempsey boys would never let 'em even get near her."

"When you love someone, you want them to be safe, at any costs. Logic no longer has such a hold upon you."

Scout looked far away, his face filled with memories. "I kind of get that. sIf I could take every bullet that Miss Pauling ever had fired at her, I would, you know? Even if it hurt like hell."

Spy nodded knowingly. "Then you understand."

"I understand that you're a jackass, but apparently you got a heart in there somewhere, I guess." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "I don't care what you say, I'm bringin' ma here. We can all meet up together. Guess it'd be like--some family thing? Feels weird sayin' that to you, but there it is."

"You would forgive so easily?"

"Nah, I still think you're a fuckin' prick. But I'm bringin' ma down anyways to meet Miss Pauling. You missed every fuckin' thing else, so it's time for you to catch up. So, don't let me down this time, all right?"

There was a certain vulnerability behind such bravado and bragging. In the end, he was still the same boy who got math lessons from a French ghost, who wrecked a car the very first time he tried to drive.

"I make no promises, but I'll try," Spy said.

"Guess that's the best I can get," Scout said.

He headed out without another word.

And Spy knew it would be easier to play the coward, the villain, to disappear into the smoke and remain a ghost.

But, ah, what a challenge this would be. He did not know if he was up to the task, but he would spend his remaining years finding out.

Scout had left the door ajar, and waited for him somewhere else. Spy stepped into the light.