Road Side Assistance

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Sniper/Scout
Warnings: TF2 weirdness, Undead stuff
Summary: Jake and Jeff are stuck on the side of the road when something comes visiting…
Notes: Happy Halloween, folks!

“Kinda romantic, huh?” said Jeff. “You and me alone in the middle of nowhere, nothin’ but peace an’ tranquility. It’s great!”

Jake the Sniper just stared at Jeff as the skinny youth bound his badly broken ankle. They were in the back of Jake’s old camper van, and outside a violent autumn storm was raging, rain pounding against the windows as the wind caused the vehicle to rock slightly. Jake’s glasses were smashed and hung off his face at a strange angle, blood leaking from a cut beneath his left eye.

“You got a strange idea of romance, mate.”

“Any time that I’m alone with you, it’s romantic,” said Jeff. He paused and listened as there was a loud thump on the side of the van. “What the hell was that?”

“With our luck, it’s flesh-eating zombies.”

“Did you see what attacked you?” Jeff asked as he set Jake’s broken ankle as well as he was able.

“Nah. But it was big, whatever it was.”

“Sure it wasn’t a zombie?”

“It didn’t smell like a zombie.”

“How do you know what a zombie smells like?” Jeff asked, indignant.

“I don’t. But I can assume based on the fact that they’re undead.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” said Jeff. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Jake, as Jeff carefully removed his broken glasses, then settled beside him on the small bed. Jake kissed him gently, smiling as Jeff snuggled close, petting his hair. “We were supposed to be at the beach by now.”

They were nowhere near the beach. They were stopped on a stretch of highway leading to nowhere, with nothing in sight, parked behind a rocky outcropping. They had stopped to fix a flat, only to discover the spare was in need of repair. They had managed to contact the base, and Dell the Engie was coming with replacement tires, but until he arrived, Jeff and Jake were stranded. Then Jake had gone outside to look around, and been attacked by some sort of enormous animal, most likely a bear. One swat of its mighty paw had been enough to throw him several feet, breaking his ankle and possibly a few ribs.

“Musta been a bear,” said Jeff.

“Maybe,” said Jake.

He held Jeff a little more tightly as something banged on the side of the camper once more. He kissed Jeff’s forehead, feeling the younger man tremble. Jeff was a city kid; in his old neighbourhood, he was unstoppable and fearless. He understood the city, and knew its dangers. But put him in the back of a small truck in the middle of a blackened expanse of highway during a storm… and suddenly Jeff was a terrified nineteen year old kid. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered as there came yet another loud banging on the side of the truck. Jake nuzzled him, kissing his nose.

“It’s just debris blown up by the wind hitting the camper,” he said softly.

“You sure?”

Jake was not sure at all, especially since something had attacked him, but scaring Jeff out of his mind was not going to help matters any.

“Yeah I’m sure. It’s all right. There’s nothin’ out…”

The entire camper rocked as the latest bang sounded against the door. Jeff made a strange muffled sound and Jake held him tightly. He had no idea what was out there, but it was scaring the shit out of his scout, and that made Jake want to chop it a superfluous new behind. Slowly, Jake managed to extract himself from Jeff’s grasp and peered out through a small side window. Not surprisingly, he saw nothing. It was as black as death outside.

“Hand me the flashlight,” said Jake.

Jeff did, staring at his lover with large eyes. “What is it?”

Jake shone the light out through the window, sweeping it from side to side. Wet ground, scraggly plants, large rocks…and a dead girl missing part of her head and a left arm standing by the rock face. Jake just blinked, staring, uncertain that what he saw was real. Then she mindlessly flung a stone at the camper.

“If I tell you, you will not believe me,” said Jake.

“It’s a freakin’ zombie, isn’t it?”

Jake just stared at the girl. She was thin and leggy, wearing something like a baseball uniform. Where had he seen….?

“It’s a female scout zombie,” he said.

“You’re shittin’ me.”

Jake moved aside so Jeff could look. The younger man gasped and made a strange sort of terrified squeak. The undead scout mindlessly threw another stone as Jeff bolted into Jake’s arms.

“What the hell else is out there?” he whispered.

“I didn’t see anything besides her,” said Jake.

“Well she sure as hell didn’t rock the camper!”

No, that was true. Scouts were fast. They were not especially strong. To be able to rock a camper, it would take a lot more than one zombie scout throwing rocks. It would take…

The camper rocked forcibly as something pounded against it, and a low, gravelly voice moaned. Jake flicked on the flashlight, and saw a zombified Heavy, ribs broken out, guts hanging down, an eye dangling from the socket. As he watched, it raised a fist and slowly pounded against the side of the camper. Jake looked from the Heavy to the Scout and back again.

“The Heavy is in red, the Scout’s blue,” said Jake. He glanced at Jeff. “Wait… didn’t we pass something a few miles back? An abandoned BLU base?”

“I ain’t goin’ to look!” said Jeff.

Jake leaned forward to kiss him. “I’m not asking you to go anywhere. I’m just wondering where all these walking dead came from.”

“Who cares! I wanna go home!”

Jake drew him close. “We’re going home. But you’ll have to drive, okay?”

“I’m not going out there!”

“You don’t have to go out there,” said Jake. “What we’re gonna do is…”

There came three slow, heavy knocks at the door. Jeff and Jake froze, Jeff shaking visibly. Finally Jake cleared his throat.

“Who is it?”

“Is Dead Heavy. Ve are vanting to speak vith you.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “We’re not giving you our brains, mate, I don’t care how nicely you ask!”

There was some whispering outside the door.

“What did he say?”

“He says ve cannot have his brain.”

“Well did you tell him we don’t want his freaking brain?”

Dead Heavy addressed Jake. “Ve do not vant your brain.”

“Well what do you want?” asked Jake. “And you’re scaring my Scout.”

“Big deal!” said Dead Scout. “A lousy RED Scout. Probably still wets the bed.”

“Ve need help,” said Dead Heavy.

Jake sighed and turned on the overhead light, then carefully got off the bed and limped to the door, opening it. Dead Heavy and Dead Scout stared at him, backed by Dead Soldier and Dead Demoman.

“All right,” said Jake. “What’s the problem?”

“Ve cannot sleep!” said Dead Heavy.

“Well insomnia in the undead is not really something I’ve studied, mate.”

“Aw we were sleeping just fine!” said Dead Scout. “I had a perfectly nice hayloft to rot in! Quiet, peaceful, soft…”

“Ja!” Dead Medic popped into the frame, with Dead Archimedes on his shoulder. “I vas sleeping in mine own bed! Vas killed by a sniper! Never knew vhat hit me!”

The zombie pointed to a large round hole in his forehead.

“Nice shot,” said Jake. “So… if you were all sleeping peacefully, what woke you up?”

“Hippies,” the collection of dead warriors intoned.

“Hippies?” inquired Jake. “You mean like… long hair, bright colours, make love not war…?”

“Dey ist everyvhere!” said Dead Medic, waving his hands. “Mit all der singing und chanting und bongo-beating und pot-smoking… how ist ve supposed to sleep?!”

“At least if we were brain-eating zombies we could do something!” said Dead Scout.

“Yeah, we could have dinner!” said Dead Soldier.

“Well you were shaking my camper pretty good,” said Jake. “You’re still warriors, even if you’re dead. Go kick their asses!”

“We can’t kill unarmed civilians!” said Dead Soldier.

“So don’t kill them!” said Jake. “Scare the hell out of them!”

“How?” asked Dead Heavy.

Jake stared at the collection of undead, at their rotting flesh, white eyes, missing limbs, hanging guts…

“Have you fellows seen yourselves lately?” asked Jake.

“Vhat?” asked Dead Heavy, portions of his jaw hanging. “You think maybe ve can scare them?”

“I think that if you go out to your base and start acting like brain-eating zombies, they will take their bongos and their pot plants and their chanting and run like hell,” said Jake. “Just throw a few things around, leap screaming out of a few doorways, get your little birdie friend there to leap out of a cooking pot or two and they’ll get the message. No civilians harmed in the process.”

“That’s a great idea!” said Dead Scout. “Hey we can get our freaking base back and go back to sleep! Thanks!”

“No problem at all, mate,” said Jake. “Now be careful walking back. There’s a bear around. You need a flashlight?”

“No,” said Dead Heavy. “Ve have Dead Pyro. Good for light and bears. You need help vith flat?”

“Nah it’s fine, got my Engie on the way, he’ll look after it. You lot take care.”

The herd of shambling undead moved off, and Jake closed the door and locked it before limping back to his bed, sitting down and easing his broken ankle up onto a crate. For a long moment, he and Jeff said nothing. Finally, Jeff spoke.

“What the hell just happened?”