Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 The Red Engineer remembers the night he realized what he had done well. One of the clearest, if not the clearest, memories he has of his college time, really, due to his constant state of sleep-deprivation and caffeine being the only reason he stayed awake during classes most days.    

 He didn't notice it back then at first. The silence on his soulmate's end of the line. He should have, He Knew His Soulmate, his Bluebonnet, Knew they could write and talk like the world would end if they didn't get their thoughts out right then.    

 He had thought that Bluebonnet was just busy due to exams or running practice. Only realized the silence had elapsed several weeks when he had gotten knees deep in a project and Dell had gotten up and damn near fell right back down because of a mix of fatigue and hunger. 

 He remembers being confused, staring at his school desk, littered with papers. His soulmate had never let him get so inside his head before, had something happened to them? Yes, he happened. He happened and he'd never get to apologize for it, he had never even seen them in person and He'd... and he would never be able to take it back, to plead to be able to see them chatter about their favorite music, and preen about how they had just broken one of their previous running records in person and it was entirely his fault  

 And he started staring up and down his arm because well, maybe there was something about the radio silence on their end, and felt his heart stop as he looked at the words scarred into his skin. He didn't comprehend what he was looking at, the words "you ain't been killed by your engineering yet, have ya?" burned into his arm and his eyes, unable to understand, yet knowing and unable to look away.  

 Dell knew that was their first way of checking if he was okay, then moving onto scribbling math problems that they knew were wrong to see if that'd get his attention, and if that didn't hook, they'd write on and around each of his fingers to catch his attention, to make sure he ate and slept and drank something. But now? To see it scarring his arm, made him realize that somewhere along the weeks past, Dell had made a horrible mistake.    

 He remembers staring at it for what felt like hours before he got up and ran for the phone, to see if maybe, someone else knew what happened. They had to, please he had to know what happened. What could have possibly made him choose to do this!? 

 Dell reached his phone, after speeding down the empty hall of his apartment. He had called what seemed like his entire friend circle before finally finding one that knew something to help him find out what events led him to reject his soulmate. 

 "Yeah, you rejected your soulmate a few weeks ago, when we went to that bar, " Shane's voice came through the phone, seemingly unaware that it felt like his words were a guillotine that Dell was being put into, "I don't remember a lot about that night, due to getting, uh, you know, but Douglas might know something, considering he was the designated babysitter. Try callin' him." 

 Dell thanked him hurriedly, politely as he could even think to be, and proceeded to call Douglas, hoping that he might have answers. Answers he wasn't entirely sure he wanted now, but he didn't have a choice, he had to know

 He remembers frantically waiting by the phone, wanting to tear something apart and put it back together, his go-to for when he was stressed or feeling homesick, but leaving the phone, he knew, would make him feel worse. Finally, after several attempts, and his hand reaching up to his head to pull what little hair he did have, the tell tale sound of the click of the phone reaches his ears, and the call goes through.  

 "Heya, how ya doin'?" Douglas's voice rang out clear as a whistle, "I was a little busy doin' work but its probabl-"  

 "What happened" Dell interrupted, too frenzied to be more polite, and realized he should be more specific, "that night, a few weeks ago at the bar, where I, where I rejected my soulmate, what happened?"    

  What made him reject the most important person in the world, the one who was his other half because it had to be something else, right?    

 There was silence over the phone, and then, "Oh, sure, I'll tell ya what I remember, because I might not have kept myself completely clean of alcohol, at least for the beginnin' of the night. Anywho, it was maybe halfway through the night? And Shane had noticed that your soulmate had written on your arm, and uh, he said somethin' like 'Dell, why do ya even keep your soulmate? It's not like they can be the best you can get. I mean you're a Conagher, and with how many degrees ya got, and are still gettin', anyone would be happy to have ya. And let's be honest, the Universe must've made some kinda mistake, sticking You with someone who can barely keep up with ya, you know?' You ignored him at first before you started nodding your head along saying yeah, that is unfair, and stuff like that. And then you two kept talking and about 30 minutes later? Maybe, anyway, you nodded, basically said 'yeah, I ain't got no use for a soulmate like that' and ya rejected em.  

 Dell had been silent through the recounting of what transpired, at first because he needed to, and later, out of horror because oh God, what had he done? What had he done? But before he could start breaking down entirely,  

 "But I mean, it's not like Shane was entirely wrong, ya know? Your soulmate, well, they weren't particularly bright, they couldn't read or write well, so in the end, Its a good thing, yeah? Now you can pick someone who can actually match and keep up with ya, instead of, you know, gettin'' stuck with somebody like that."    

 Dell didn't know what to do or say, not immediately anyway, before he snapped, yelling over the phone about why Douglas hadn't stop him and other such things, before he slammed the phone into its holding place.  

 He breathed heavily though his nose and his mouth, closing his eyes in an attempt to calm down. Dell took a few steps back, and hit the wall, sliding down the wall to the floor, ducking his head between his legs. He kept his eyes closed and kept breathing, trying to make sure he didn't start crying.    

  Oh, please, please, let this be a nightmare, Please, Let him wake up, because this? This is cruelty, it has to be a nightmare, this can't be real, it just can't  

 Dell kept his head between his legs for a while, trying to keep his breathing steady, and failing. His eyes were closed, but that didn't stop the tears from starting to fall. He moved to cover his mouth with one hand, trying to stop the sobs and hiccups coming though, and drying the tears pouring down his face with the other, but there were too many of them to dry completely.  

 He stayed in that position for a time, just crying about what he had done and what he had lost because of it. And when he had finally stopped, or rather, got to a point where his vision wasn't blurred by tears, he stood up.  

 He looked at the clock, and spent some time staring to decipher the time through the blur, and after several minutes of being unable to, decided he wasn't in the mood for anything today, so he turned back to the phone to call his teachers and tell them he was sick and unable to attend. He was working up the courage to actually make the calls when his eyes crossed the phone number above all the others.  

 His mom 

 And he was flashbacking instantly to any other moment he had miscalculated messed up a project, and she'd help him feel better and maybe she'd be able to fix this, maybe she could.  

  She wouldn't be able to and he knew it but well, he wanted his mom to tell him it would be okay anyway  

   It wouldn't, it would never be okay, not anymore, not when he had just lost his other half 

    By the time Dell registered the phone picking and his mother's familiar accent speaking through the phone, he had already started to cry again.  

  "Hello, who is- Dell? Sweet'eart, is that you? What's the matter? Did someone-"  

  Dell interrupted, in the back of his mind knowing that he shouldn't,  but was too high-strung and wringed out all at once to care.    

"Mom, I messed up, and I lost my soulmate" Dell croaked out, his voice breaking, and his own accent getting worse"I don't know what to do, I rejected 'em and I hadnt even met them. They were my other half and I tossed them away like nothin'." 

  The phone is silent, except for the slight static he couldn't get out, no matter what he tried on the damn thing, and Dell trying his best to keep the sobs and hiccups in for a second time.  

  "Oh Darlin," his Mom says, softly, "it'll be alright, you'll see"  

  "But how?" Dell asks, "how will it be alright?"  

  "It'll get easier with time, and eventually, you'll find someone else who might ease it, too."  

  "But I don't want someone else, I want my soulmate!" Dell croaks as loud as he can, his voice going out in places.  

  "I know," the phone crackles again, "I did too, at first. It gets easier with time"  

  "But...what do I do now? I never even got to see them."    

"Well, I distracted myself with people I met, that's how I met your father, actually." His mom says, softly over the phone, "and well, you could always come back home, you know? We've always got more work, both around the farm, and at Mann Co. You could look through your grandpa's old blueprints, too. You like to do that to distract yourself when you're upset." 

    "..." Dell falls silent, trying to parse through the options even though his head feels like it's stuck swimming in molasses, before deciding "Yeah, that sounds like it'll do fine. I'll, I'll  get my degree, and then I'll head back. That sounds, that sounds alright."    

His mom falling silent, probably nodding before she realizes he can't see her, before the reciever sparks out "Okay, love. I'll see you in a couple weeks. I'll make sure to prepare your favorites the day you're scheduled to return, and get out grandpa's blueprints, alright?"

     "Thanks, Mom." Dell states, rubbing at his eyes, feeling them starting to dry up and crust."I love ya, and I'll see you soon."  

  "I love you, too, Dear. Oh and Dell" his Mom speaks out.  

  "Yeah, mom?" 

  "Don't feel too bad, ya know? You aren't the first Conagher to reject a soulmate, and you won't be the last. And besides, it was probably for the best, your Soulmate... they meant well, but with being unable to read or do any science well, they wouldn't have been a good fit for the Conagher family, anyway."  

  Dell pulls his head from the reciever, trying to pull the words together to figure out what she means before it clicks. 

    All he can do then, is blankly turn and stare at the receiver as it continues to make noise, before he finally, wordlessly, clicks the receiver to the phone.  

  'She thought I did it on purpose, because... because my soulmate can't read or write well.'   

   And how dare they?   

   How Dare They!    

 How Dare They decide that his soulmate is, is useless because of that? How dare they decide that his soulmates worth boils down to how much they help his family name?    

  He starts to stomp around his apartment, his blood starting to boil over their comments on His Soulmate, before he freezes, his veins going from 101 all the way down to frostbite, because..

     They aren't his soulmate, not anymore.    

And he looks down at the scar, with its words mocking him, before looking up to his roof, taking a deep breathe and reaching to call his professors.

 Because he was sick and not avoiding the world. He just was taking a break and taking in his new reality, no matter how much he didn't have to, wishing, beyond anything else, that he could go back, and stop himself from making what had to be the worst and biggest mistake of his life  

 The weeks to his graduation passed in a blur. He mostly ignored the outside world, only going out to eat when he didn't feel like cooking, which kept getting more and more often, or get things he was running low on. He Knew His soulmate would have been yelling at him if they could see the habits he accumulated, they were surprisingly good at taking care of themself, with all he had learned of them 

 Dell had made his way home quickly after his 5th graduation, opting for his already packed truck rather then the graduation parties. 

 He reached home, and stared at the building, unsure if he really wanted to go in. The door opened, creaking all through its swinging wide out,, and his mother coming out to greet him, and making his choice for him.  

 He then spent time helping with the chores around the house, fixing up the things that his father was too busy to fix, and when the things to do around the house ran out, strayed from project to project, reading them to merely keep his head distracted in that moment, despite knowing each one by heart, whether they are his own or his grandfather's.  

 He remembers covering his arm as often as he could when the texan heat allowed it, because seeing his they are his scars his reminder his fault  the scars made his heart hurt.    

  Or maybe his half of their soul was hurting him in response to losing the other half.    

 Dell stayed in his workshop for the most part, leaving to join his parents at dinner, if they came and got him, or to look through the family study, where all of the family's most important blueprints were.  

  He was in this state for a long few months, before it all came to a head when Dell saw the blueprint.

 It wasn't a new blueprint. It was one of his grandpa's most well known, although family were the only ones who could see the blueprint itself. 

 The Gunslinger, a prosthetic arm that could do all an arm could, and more.  

  He stared, the gears in his head turning, maybe not properly if he was even considering this. He had already made the worst decision he ever could, whats another bad one?  

  Anything was better than staring at his failure.    

 He reached over and snagged the blueprint from its place on the table, already making a list of what'd he need to do it. He started pacing while he read over it, placing the blueprint at the work table as he passed by.  

 He grabbed all he would need, only hesitating as he reached for a bottle of whiskey and his spare belt. 

  The time passed by in a blur, only slowing down when he scarfed down whatever food was placed by his workspace when he noticed it. Until, finally, all he had left to do was staring at him from their places on the workbench.  

 The belt, the bottle of whiskey, the completed Gunslinger without a stump to connect it to, and the saw.    

 Dell stared down the items, wondering if it was too late to put the items away and pretend he never had the idea in the first place. He looked at them for a while, before he looked at the arm he was about to lob off, remembered the words etched into it, and reached for the whiskey to take a drink. 

 He drank the whiskey to almost empty, and working fast, grabbed his marker to replace the lines he had made to get the measurements for the arm. Once Dell had done that, he grabbed the belt, tying it tightly around the base of the marker lines. 

 Done tying the belt, he drank more whiskey, and grabbed the saw, read the scarred words one final time on his own arm, and placed the saw onto the marked line.  

  And then, with his vision going slightly blurred, Dell brought the saw up, and brought it down into the marked skin.  

  It hurts, it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts

 When Dell had woken up to white, all he could wonder is if he had died. The thought didn't scare him as much as it should have, maybe it was because Dell's soul had died months ago when he first learned of his rejection to his soulmate    

 There had been a lot of questions, mainly from doctors and his mother. Usually why he had done it. He didn't give them a complete answer, only told them that it seemed like a good idea.

 He didn't tell them that the main reason it sounded like a good idea was because he was getting tired of seeing his horrible choice stare at him, pain him, whenever he looked at his arm. 

  Didn't tell them that even if it had failed, he wouldn't have cared? Maybe he would have been happy to taint his 'genius' title  

  He spent a while in the hospital, his mother the only one to visit, before he had gotten cleared to leave. Dell had gotten home for a few days, before giving into his urge to finish what he had started.    

 He went to his workshop and looked around, trying to locate the Gunslinger. He went through several drawers and closets filled with more equipment that didn't fit anywhere else, before finding it leaning beside the saw he had used. 

 He picked the Gunslinger up, and placed it on the bench. He took a glance at what was left of his arm, before looking and taking the base of the Gunslinger off of the main arm.  

  Dell unwrapped the bandages and sanitized the area as best as he could, moving the mirror he had attached to his workbench into position for the procedure. Adjusting his position to look better into the mirror, takes a deep breath and begins attaching the base, hissing at the pain that made it through the painkillers he had been given by the hospital, while the Gunslinger seemed to glare at him the whole time.  

  He finished attaching the base, feeling each nerve connected to each wire, every one burning and freezing all at once.  

  And finally, after the pain had dulled down, he brought the main arm to the base and finished attaching the Gunslinger.  

  Dell leaned back into his seat, finally done and stared at it, the metal gleaming in the light of the room. Opening and closing a fist to make sure all of the bits inside worked properly, checking to see if the pressure it applied was safe, or at least controllable, before giving a very light chuckle, because even with the reasons being what they were, he still had done something incredibly difficult that only his Grandfather had managed to make and make it work correctly.  

  He would still rather have his soulmate than have his family name, because only one of those things were completely his  

  Dell is startled out of his thoughts about college, and soulmates he'd never meet, by the crackling sound of the Administrator over the speaker, telling him that their team had won.  

  He looks up through the window high above, seeing the sun going down into the horizon, and laughs, happy the day is over. It had been one of the hotter days of the year, so he was happy to hear the battle was over and that he could go back to the conditioning in both the base and then his workshop.

    Dell goes to pick up his sentry, making a mental list on what could be done to improve it, and what he would need to accomplish it. When he finished grabbing the sentry, he heads for RED base, trying to remember who's on what duty tonight.  

  As he heads through the bases creaking door, walking down the burnt carpet hallway, one of Pyro's surprisingly few accidents misclicking the trigger on his flame thrower, mentally checking off lists, both his own and the whole teams, walks into the kitchen up to check the chore list that Heavy, and surprisingly, Scout, had come up with.      

 'Hmm, I'm on cooking duty while Scout's helping with dishes.' Dell muses to himself, his head tilted slightly up to read it, 'Hope the others don't mind something simpler than usual,'

 He looks around the kitchen area, trying to see what all they have, and what can make a meal that can feed all nine of them. He heads for the fridge first, being aware that it would take force to open due to Soldier slamming it shut one too many times. He finds pieces of a meal, but not enough for a whole one, at least for nine total mercs, several of which could eat their weight and more in food.    

 Dell looks away from the fridge, closing it while he turns and walks over to the cracked cabinets. He crouches slightly to see into the cabinets easier, and takes more notes and compares what he sees in the cabinets with what he saw in the fridge, pushing cans and other things out of the way to look.

 He's still searching through the cabinets, humming a jingle when he hears that Scout had joined him in the kitchen.  

  "Ok, now where's that, oh, there it is. And today is... ah, Man! I was gonna go and listen to that new album, that sucks," Scout recounts to himself, "guess I'll have ta listen later. Ooh, wait, it's Hardhat turn ta cook, maybe he'll-" 

  "I hope you weren't thinkin' of asking me to do what's your chore, Scooter." Dell pointedly says, looking away from the cabinets, and over at Scout, "I'll help, but thats it, I ain't doing it alone."   

"ACK, christ, Hardhat, you ain't supposed to be that quiet, too damn similiar to that bastard Spy. But uh, yeah, sure," Scout pulls at his dogtags around his neck, "would never dream of it. Oh, wait, you won't mind if I play the music down here then, would ja? Because whenever Soldier has ta join me in the kitchen, he's always like 'maggot that ain't proper music, that's not the American way' and stuff and that's kinda stupid, ya know? Because the music is being played by American Radio so it's gotta be American, right?Maybe, anyways, the others don't like listenin' to it either, but you wouldn't mind, right?"

  Dell, listening with half a ear, hears the question, and goes through what he heard, before shaking his head, "nah, I wouldn't mind, Scooter. Lord knows your music is sometimes better than what the others play. There's only so many times i can listen to the same album a day before getting annoyed, though, so it better not be your usual, because you played that just a few hours ago." 

    "Nah, it ain't, it's some new album I got sent, because I bought so many albums from their catalog that I won some kinda contest," Scout leans against the kitchen counter, his hands moving and pointing at nothing, while Dell continues to look through the cabinets, "and I didn't even know I had gotten into the contest, don't remember signing up for it, but when I looked, it was right there in my mail history. Weird, right? Also, what cha making? I hope it ain't soup, we just got that a few days ago when Snipes cooked."    

 Dell shakes his head, smiling at the rambles of a man who couldn't seem to find a topic he didn't have an opinion on, just never seeming to stop talking about anything, and everything, especially about his accomplishments. he thinks of Bluebonnet and the way they wrote, almost never stopping writing and filling his arm with a thousand words with a thousand pictures to match.

"Actually, I found this dried pasta, and some cans of some kinda sauce, so probably just gonna make that and maybe use some seasonings in the sauce to make it taste better." Dell places the pasta and sauce cans on the counter beside the stove, and reaches under the counter to grab out a set of pots.

  Scout looks over at him from his place near the counter, tossing up a baseball that he got from somewhere unbeknownst to the texan, tilting his head slightly before stating, "Really? Usually, ya make some kinda barbecue or somethin."    

 "I suppose, I do normally, now that I think about, but why are you worrying about it, Scooter?" Dell continues preparing the food, putting the pasta in a pot of water, and the sauce in the other pot to heat up, before turning to look over at the runner, "You'd think that you'd be happy about it, less dishes to worry about. Besides, Scooter, I also got things I need to do in my Workshop, sentries to fix up and Medic needs my help with a new medigun upgrade. I dont want to spend all of my time making dinner, barbecue takes a while to make, or at least to make it right."    

 Scout turns away from staring at the calander clock to the texan, making a face at his words, and opens his mouth, about to make a comment, probably along the lines of how he 'wasn't worrying about it, or you for that matter, and he was just about to leave anyways' before a voice chimes through the kitchen doorway.    

 "Laborer, 'ow long until ze food is done?" Spy himself almost touching the doorframe to mimic leaning on it, with a cigarette lit between his fingers. The cigarette's smoke curling and then disappearing from view.    

 "Ah, Spook. It'll be done in about," Dell looks at the boiling pots of pasta water and sauce, calculating how long each take to make, before looking back to Spy, "maybe twenty minutes at most. It might not be the most, ah, varied, but it's somethin' until we head back into town to restock this weekend."    

 "Oui, thank you. Also, ze Medic is asking for you, so you should probably 'urry before 'e loses 'is patience, and someone loses a few organs for it." Spy looks across the room, waves his cigarette in some form of goodbye, and leaves the doorframe, cigarette smoke marking his path before both it, and its smoker disappear from view.  

 Dell looks over from where Spy was to see Scout glaring at where the smoker used to be, the baseball clenched in his fist.  

 "You good, Scoot?" Dell asks, despite knowing that for some reason, Scout just could not stand being in the same room, the same being said for Spy.  

  Scout grit his teeth, before rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I'm good. Just don't like that damn bastard, ya know, and the way he always looks at me, lookin down at me and stuff."     Dell rubs the back of his head, and looks across the room, eyes landing at where he had put in a album player into the wall, mainly for Scout, Medic, and surprisingly, Sniper, although everyone could use it, and gets an idea.

  "You could always bring that new album ya got while I get everything set up for when dinners done, I'm mighty curious about what they mightve sent ya." Dell nods his head towards the player, and Scout's eyes light up, immediately taken out of the weird anger both he and Spy got when in the same vicinity of eachother, "it'll probably be good to get it ready early, yeah?"  

  Scout nods rapidly, bouncing on his feet, "Yeah, that sounds real good, I'm pretty, uh, interested? Yeah, interested myself. And then we can-" Scout continues to talk while he pushes off the counter with one hand, the baseball in his hand going back to being tossed lightly in the air instead of death gripped.    

 Dell watches Scout talk all the way to the door, before he hits the outside threshold of the doorframe in the hall, and turn back to him.  

  "-and I'll be back real fast, and we can continue our conversation, uh, is that, yeah, thats it, anyway," Scout does a salute with one finger, using the hand with the baseball, and leaves the doorframe, his footsteps heard almost completely clearly all the way down the hall into the kitchen from Dell's place by the stove overlooking the food. 

  Dell huffs a laugh, smiling and shaking his head, before turning away from the door and back to the food.    

 That man, his soulmate would probably have his hands full, keeping him out of whatever trouble he finds for himself.

Chapter Text

 The sun is blistering in the sky, the heat causing waves to appear above the sand in the horizon, and Dell can only believe that this is an exceptionally cruel case of karma coming to bite him where it hurts the most.   

 He doesn't know exactly where it went wrong.

 Maybe it started when he rejected his soulmate a decade ago.  

 Maybe it started when a quick footed batter started spending more time in his workshop, filling it with more talking and music and life than it ever had with just him.  

  Maybe it started when Dell began looking forward to those visits, thinking, maybe it wouldn't be so bad, because it wasn't like he'd ever be able to meet his soulmate, wasn't like he'd actually do anything about the little crush he obtained on the other due to the visits, besides stare from afar.  

  But now? Staring up from his position in the sand, one hand reaching up to try to stop the bleeding from his punched nose, at the Bostonian glaring down at him, mouth pulled into a snarl, all of his thoughts abandon him, leaving only the feeling of guilt sinking deeply in his chest, it's claws pulling his heart down with it, and it's fangs sinking deep into it. 

  All he could think was "today was going almost wonderfully, too"

 The day had started like it usually does when you live in a place like Tuefort. With Dell listening in his workshop from tinkering all night, far from where the other mercs slept, to Soldier shouting about how everyone has to get up and at em, before being abruptly cut off. Dell still guesses that it is either Spy, Heavy, or Medic cutting him off, but hasn't remembered to go and watch Soldiers morning routine to see who exactly.

 Setting down his tools, and stretching, stood up and headed to the workshop door, intending to go and join the others for breakfast before heading out for the match, as Scout and Pyro had taken to calling the battles between the two sides.

 When Dell reached the door, he heard a person skidding behind it, before it had dropped into a most likely momentum filled movement before the sound stopped entirely. Opening the door and tilting his head up, he looked up to the eyes of Scout looking first above his head, before they went down and attempted to meet his eyes behind his goggles.

 "Oh, hey Hardhat, was just about to knock and tell ya that, uh, the match is probably not gonna happen, because Snipes thinks that the Blu's will call for a temporary cease fire. Snipes was saying that it's because like, half of their base has been destroyed by something big and explosive. He says he heard it from his camper when it happened and had gone to check the noise out and saw the left side of their base just smoking up a storm. But we haven't gotten the news of it actually happenin', so we still gotta head for the gear room, until we either hear that we don't head out or don't hear. And breakfast is being cooked by Helmethead so, that's probably not somethin' you gon' wanna eat if you're not either Cyclops or Helmethead himself."

 Dell, grimacing at the news of Soldier cooking one of his "American Meals", where it was all either undercooked or it was all burnt to a charred crisp, turned his head back to his bench, and the fridge he kept beside it knowing that it was not stocked because he kept forgetting to write to stock up on the items he usually had inside of it when he made the lists for town visits before sighing. Realizing that he would most likely have to go inside and be subjugated to Soldier shouting at him to eat the meals, he returns his head to facing Scout, who, upon a second look, was holding something?

 "So, yeah. I had myself somethin' to eat when I had looked at the chore list for my own stuff, and saw Helmethead was cooking, but I made a bit too much and I just thought I'd bring it back over to ya, so here."

 "Why, thanks, that saves me from having to go and get my own while avoiding Soldier's.. eccentric cooking." Dell reached his hand out as Scout moved to hand over the package. Once taken, he steps back to let Scout inside, heading to the corner he had cleared for when Scout visited.

 Hearing steps behind him, along with a click, telling him that Scout had followed him inside, with the batter running up beside and ahead of him. Turning to walk backwards in front of Dell, he started up a conversation about how he, Sniper and Pyro had done a heist to dye at least half of Spys suits.

 When they reach the corner, Scout sits first on one side seated with himself sprawled across the entire left half, hands having begun to move and motion around as he talked. Dell then sits on the other seat, opening the lid on the package once he had sat with the food inside releasing a puff of steam. He looks inside at the food given, before grabbing the given fork, and beginning to eat, listening to Scout speak, only talking himself when Scout asked him questions expecting an answer.

 Once he had finished, Both he and Scout left the workshop to head for the gear locker room. When they got there, only Pyro and Heavy were still in the room, although Pyro was just finishing tying their boots up and Heavy was leaving through the doorway. They both turned to look at the pair, Heavy nodding at them before leaving to the waiting area and Pyro waving excitedly at the two.

 Scout grinned upon seeing them, running  up excitedly, while Dell returned the wave at them, before turning to walk to his own locker, filled with his current equipment. He grabbed his shotgun and pistol, attaching the pistol to his hip, and slinging the shotgun across his back, before grabbing the wrench from its hanging place on the hook on the door of the locker.

 Turning back to the two youngest members of the team, he watched them for a moment, seeing the way Scout lifted his arms in motions describing the way he had done or seen whatever it was, while Pyro excitedly moved with their own hand movements, before chuckling and making his way to them.

 Once he had gotten close enough that the pair had noticed him, he begins to speak.

 "While I'm mighty sure that the two of ya are having a great conversation, we might wanna get out there in case there isn't a cease fire, and we have to fight them blu's." Dell makes a hand motion to the door, before starting his own way to the door.

 He hears the pair making an agreement and Scout saying they can continue the conversation out there, and then shoes making noise on the pavemented floor of the locker room, which prompts him to fully go through the door outside.

 When he hits the floor, he looks around, before finding where Medic and Demo had decided to start a conversation and walking to join with them.

 Once with them, he joined the pair with their conversation, the two acknowledge him before they continue, with the three exchanging opinions on things they would change about their respective science.

 When the news comes in, saying that there would be a temporary cease fire, Scout had run over to him, telling him that he was right, and that there would be a ceasefire, with Sniper interjecting that he was the one to say that, the two then getting into a light argument about who was really right.

 Everyone heads back into the locker room, putting away gear, some like Sniper and Spy having nothing to put into a locker just continuing to the door that connected the lockers to the base living room, most having to spend at least a few minutes putting things away, while Heavy and Pyro having the most to put away were having to leave last.

 When everyone was finished, Dell remained in the living area for about a minute with Sniper cleaning his gun in the corner and Demo and Soldier starting a game of chess. After that minute had passed, he looked back at the list of chores, seeing that it was his turn, went to go ask Pyro if he wanted to help start a fire for barbecue.

 The day went by faster than Dell had thought it would, with everyone gathered outside near a campfire that Pyro had been begrudgingly allowed to keep aflame, with Sniper keeping a eye to make sure that he didn't start making it go into a complete bonfire.

 Dell watched the barbecue smoke from its place above the campfire before turning back towards Demo and Medic, who had steered the topic from creating a bomb that could heal with the medi-gun vapors exploding from it, to soulmates, and how they had decided to leave them.

 "Aheh, my own soulmate was a woman, she was quite sweet, at first, before she had decided that my own, unique, brand of medical science was too much, and she left a message saying to never contact her on my arm, and I've not seen her since" Medic recounted, tone quite happy, "I have Heavy now, he does not have a soulmate, but he says he is happy with me, and I am with him, he helps me with experiments and I give him back up on the battlefield. It is very nice to have someone who listens so intently to my own speaking without understanding much of it."

 Demo, who had waited until Medic had finished, and looked over expectantly before beginning to speak, "Aye, my own was a looker, he was. Loved to speak about how he would leave someday. We never liked eachother much, even before we meet in person. Meetin jus' extended the dislike between us, until he left one day, only mark on my arm being a dash. Ain't thought about him in a while, though. Solly's the only one I need, he's wonderful, especially when we go across the battlefield, blowing up all that cross our paths, before heading to a new bar.

  Once Demo had stopped looking into the air lovestuckenly, both he and Medic turned to him, expectantly.

  Dell flounders for a moment, confused, "Now, what are ya looking at me for? I ain't ever said anythin' bad about my soulmate."

  Demo shrugs, "But ye don't speak good on 'em, either."

  Medic nods, pointing at Demo before moving to point back at Dell "Bestimmt, yes, that. You never speak of them in any way, even when the others are all speaking of their own lovers or soulmates."

  Dell, reaching up to grab his helmet to pull it down, before aborting the motion, opting to just hold his hands together, "Well, there's a reason for that, you know. I just don't like talkin' about soulmates, that's all."

  He hoped that that would appease them, and change their direction.

  He has hoped he wouldn't have to explain what he did, never in a million years.

  Both men appeared undeterred, continuing to ask to tell them about his soulmate, if he didnt have one, or something else.

  Finally, after almost thirty minutes of the men pushing and prodding with Dell only giving either small refusals or outright silence, Dell snapped at the pair, "I ain't got one no more, happy? I messed up and rejected 'em and I don't have a soulmate no more."

  They both recoiled, a mix of both him snapping at the two, and what he had said, before Demo started apologizing for pushing, and Medic waiting for the scot to finish, before asking

  "Well, what was the thing you rejected them about? You do not seem the type."

  Demo whirled on Medic, probably about to start telling him that it was rude to make him continue talking, but Dell spoke before he could,

  "Demo, it's fine, he's just askin' what anyone would, and to answer your question, Doc, I couldn't tell ya. I was drunk when I did it, I only realized a couple a' weeks later when I noticed the silence had gone on for quite a while."

  Demo had turned to him, mouth open in slight shock, while Medic tilted his head in consideration, before nodding and asking another one,

  "Well, what was left on your arm, then?"

  Dell messing with his helmet he had taken off his head, considered lying before opting against it, nodding as he answered.

  "I had the words 'you ain't been killed by your engineering yet, have ya' I hated looking at em so I decided to chop off my arm and get the Gunslinger instead.'

  Dell, standing up and walking around the log at this point, hat in hand, stares up at the sky for a moment, before turning back to the pair seated on the log across from where he sat just a few moments ago. He continued to talk while looking away.

  'I'll always regret it, even if I wasn't sober, it was still my decision to -" he's cut off then, by a fist flying into his nose.

  He falls to the ground, hat skidding across the sand, before reaching a hand up to hold his nose and looking up at the one who had punched him.

  Scout stood there, fist clenched with a look he had never seen before staring down at him, breathing heavily.

  Dell saw that Demo and Medic were in shock, three eyes wide open and mouths agape slightly.

  "You"

  The word was said in such a hateful way, that Dell almost didn't believe it to be Scout, not before noticing that Spy was still over with Heavy, disguise watch in clear view.

  Dell looks back up, confused, "Scooter, why did ya-"

  "Dell Conagher, you fucking bastard! The sentence started out even before it changed into yelling.
 
  Dell wasn't sure what it was that had made Scout so angry with him, or how he knew his name until he started to unwrap the bandages on his arm, that went from the wraps on his hand all the way above the elbow, and saw what exactly was there.

  The words that had been scarred into his own skin once upon a time starred back at him, the only difference?

  They weren't attached to his own arm.

  Scout continues to spit anger and fire down at him.

  "You BASTARD! You lying cheap motherfu-" Scout is glaring down at him, with the most hateful look on his face, yelling at him all the while, waving his fist around, blood flying through the air as it went.

  Heavy intervenes then, picking up Scout by the backside collar of his shirt, who is still yelling but with his head turned towards Heavy now, screaming to 'put him down so he can show him just how much he has to tell 'em.'    

 Demo then moves into Dell's view in between the two, telling Heavy to take Scout somewhere else, to which Heavy nods, and starts to walk towards the door which headed back into their base.    

 Dell isn't sure what possesses him at that moment, but as he watches Scout get carried towards the sets of door, screeching as he goes, the word that had been floating at the corners of his mind comes front and center and leaves his mouth.

     "Bluebonnet"

 Scout stops hitting and yelling at heavy to put him down, and turns as much he can from his position being held in the air towards him, his face frozen in shock, looking for all the world like he'd been shot. The look quickly disappears, replaced by outrage, face filled with snarling lips and glaring eyes, starting his fight to get out of Heavy's arms once more, and screaming at him, his Boston accent coming in clear.    

 "Don't you dare fuckin' call me that! You ain't got the right, not any damn more, ya hear me!" Scout pulls at Heavy's fingers, trying to pry them from his shirt, his face never looking away from Dell's, not even for a second    

 "You decided to reject me 'fore you ever met me, you fuckin' lying asshole! You better start runnin' cause the second I'm free, I'm gonna kick your ass so hard!"    

 Heavy, having paused on his way to the door upon hearing Dell speak, quickly continues on his path towards the set of steel doors. Demo, once Heavy and Scout were out and away far enough that Scout's yelling had faded, relaxed his position. Turning to Dell, offered him a hand getting up from the sand.   

 Dell took the outstretched hand, still in shock at the events happening. It felt almost like he was watching through a television. He could hear Medic firing up the medigun, feeling the burning frost that the guns vapor carried fading the slight bruises he got from the fall before it carried up into his nose, making a cracking sound before it healed, and the feeling dissipating as Medic shuts the gun off.   

 Demo looks at him, looks towards the set of doors that Scout had been carted through, before looking back at him, and asking "you alright, lad? He punched ye pretty hard there. Don't think I've seen him that mad since that time the BLU Sniper kept shooting him each time he came out of respawn."    

 Dell can only stare at the door, at the place were his soulmate ex-soulmate you can't pretend you didn't do it, not anymore, not when the proof stared down at you, with the sun's light casting a halo around its head and and the questions being asked nothing more than static.    

 He stares at the door for a moment, then two, before turning to Demo and Medic, thanking them, adjusting his goggles from over his eyes, glad that they can't see the tears welling in his eyes. He thought he was done with tears, running out of them so many years ago, in that first year of being without a soulmate, with everyone jumping at the bit to try to take his metaphorical hand.    

 They'd never gotten it, with him never wanting to betray his soulmates trust further, although really, how much more could he have done?    

 He had already broken the one and only true thing they had asked of him. That if they ever got to the point of annoying him, that he'd tell them, so that they could find a solution if they could. He never thought they could annoy him, because even with their bad writing skills and the way they couldn't do math properly, he loved them too much, even before meeting them in person 

 Dell heads for his workshop, and unlocks the door with the key attached at the end of Gunslingers pointer finger. When he enters, he starts heading for his workbench to see if maybe he could think up a solution there working on other projects.    

 He starts with his sentries, taking them apart with efficiency only brought with practice, his mind elsewhere, before a thought hits him when he was putting his sentries back together.    

 Dell kept that thought in the forefront of his mind, refusing to let it go and fade into the rest of his mind, muscle memory helping him put the sentries back together faster. When he finished, he hurried for his bedroom, that mostly doubled as an office.  

  He opened the door, wincing slightly when it made a creaking sound, telling him it had been much longer than he thought since he last used both it, and consequently, the room itself. He shook his head, pulling his goggles up to his eyes, before turning his attention to the desk, sitting across from his bed on the left side of the room, with the window letting the sunlight in onto it.     

 Dell flicked the rooms light switch, with it only turning on the desks lamp, he must have changed it to do that to make more power inside the workshop, and did a fast walk over to his desk, crouching on the right side of it, and opening the middle drawer. He pushed several things to the side, bits of metal and pieces of inventions that got pushed to the side for his more job related ones, before finding the objects that he was looking for.   

 He reached in, pulled one out, and held it, making sure it was the correct item, before placing it on the desk. Dell stares at it for a time, it's coloring fading into almost pale bluey purple white from years of use, and the Bluebonnet flower and name stitching he had done himself almost a decade prior coming slightly apart, when his mother had refused to do it, telling him that it would be better for him to do the stitching himself, saying his soulmate would appreciate it more.    

 He turns, bends into the drawer once more, and grabs the second book he was looking for, amongst the ones written for some of the other mercs, a maroon colored notebook with much clearer and better stitching of a bundle of roses, filled to the brim with things he wouldn't dare talk to aloud.

 Dell takes a breathe, his nerves firing off every which way, before reaching out and picking the light blue notebook back up, dusting it off lightly with his hand. He holds it up to the light, tilting it this way and that, looking for any remaining dust before stopping, pleased for the time being with the dusting job, turned open the first page and started to read.

Chapter Text

 The first time Dell had talked to his soulmate, he was 25 and getting his third set of degrees.    

 He had been in a project, watching the gears move, trying to see if there was a problem, when the student beside him pointed at his arm.    

"Hey, that don't look like your handwriting."   

 Dell had looked over at the student before turning to look at his arm. He twisted it around trying to find what the other had meant, before they poked a finger at the underside of the upper arm.   

 He moved his arm to see where they had poked at, and looked around the equations, until, There!   

  On his arm, clear as a cloudless sky, were the words written in messy handwriting that took him a second to read 'are we sure this isn't a prank? All I'm seeing is math, and math aint fun or a soulmate'    

 All he could think of, in that moment, was 'well then, that's new.' And then 'He needs a pen, now!'    

 He looks around his college workbench, trying to locate something to write with under all the metal scraps, and half-done blueprints before a pen shows up under his nose, held up by the student beside him.    

 He thanks them, before uncapping the pen and writing 'Sorry! I didn't realize that you had wrote on my arm, I got pretty neck deep into a project.' 

 The reply came faster than he thought it would, 'what kinda project? Gotta be something cool, right?'    

 'Do you want to know? It's probably not gonna be easy to keep up with if you don't know engineering.'    

 'What do you take me for? I'll be fine, hit me with it, wouldn't have asked otherwise'

   'Okay, if you're certain. So basically-'  

 Dell then spent the whole class session writing to the other person, telling them about projects he was working on, things he wanted to work on, but didn't have time, and the person, who clearly didn't understand what he was saying, by the way they kept asking clarifying questions about it, anytime he asked if they wanted him to stop and talk about something else, they kept telling him to continue, saying they had all the time in the world, and that they owed him for making them wait, you know?    

 He only realized the whole class session had passed when he had jumped from when the bell signaling that the period was over chimed.  Slightly thankful that it was his last period, he headed for his car, telling them that he wouldn't be able to write, but he'd like to hear more about them.    

 Dell drove his truck back to his apartment, learning about his soulmate the whole time. He learned that they were still in high school, and that they were surprisingly on track to graduate with how badly they did during the actual classes. He learned that they loved running, to the point they could run from one block to the next in less than twenty seconds. He learned that they were apart of their schools baseball team, and that they were set to join the nationals.    

 When he arrived home, he put his tool bag on the coat hanger, before heading to the  couch. He laid across it for a moment, before deciding to sit up and move the table closer to write easier.    

 The text his soulmate had written on him, telling him that his favorite food was some meal his mom always made, and asking if he had any favorite meals made him smile, happier than he'd thought he'd be.   

  He hadn't realized how much he actually wanted a soulmate until he had one, seeing them start writing about their family and all the brothers that kept making fun of them, and all kinds of other things. He hadnt realized he could miss something he didn't have until he had it, and the feeling went away.    

 They talked for several hours, his soulmate and him talking about everything and nothing the whole time.    

 He looked down to where they were writing about some form of prank they had pulled on one of their brother, and wrote down that he should probably go eat something, and so should they. That they could talk more after they ate.    

 Soulmate agreed, saying that they had to go downstairs anyway. Their mom needed help with cooking and they were one of the only one of their brothers who could cook halfway decent, at least with instructions.    

 Dell says goodbye, and that they'd talk later. His arm doesn't get any more words but it does get a smiley face on it, so he's pretty sure they saw the message.    

 With that, he stretches his back, cracking it all the way down, his arms raising with the motion. When he finishes stretching, his arms falling to his sides, he lifts the one that had the inked smile, and returned it with a grin. Turning his attention away from soulmark's and writing, Dell stands and walks to the door, then heads into the kitchen to make something out of what he has left over.    

 A few months later, when his soulmate is writing out several funny stories, some about how they evaded the school cops because they 'only gave the principal guys car a paint job, he should be thanking me, it was free, and that paint sure wasn't' and other about brothers getting into trouble with their mother, Dell was laughing into his right hand, reading the other arm through tears.    

 As his laughter got more controllable, he rubbed his eyes with a hand, before going to write without a second thought behind it.  

  'Bluebonnet, you gotta give me time to breathe, I can't stop laughing at the moment with all your stories.'    

 When he looks back down at his arm after catching his breath a little more, he is surprised to not see a response from his soulmate, before a single familiar word appeared in just as familiar writing.  

 'Bluebonnet?'  

 Dell freezes upon reading it, realizing what he had accidentally called them. He reaches with the pen to write a reason behind it, before stopping, unsure of what he was even going to write.    

 Thankfully, his soulmate seemed to take it in stride, continuing to write only asking what it was or meant, telling him that 'it better mean something cool'    

 He chuckled, relieved, glad that he hadn't messed up with the name he had taken to calling the other when speaking to friends or family.   

 He reaches with his pen to ink his skin, telling them his reasoning, explaining that it was both his state flower, and that he remembered them talking about owning a small garden, despite their brothers making fun of them for enjoying it, starting it for flower references, and continuing to do it for fun, and because it made their mother smile when she saw them in the morning.    

 The silence for a few moments passed, him seeing a dot show up, before it dropped down into a line, silence for a moment and them responding seconds later about how it was embarrassing that he paid so much attention to them, how did he even remember that with all his classwork?    

 Months kept passing with Dell learning bits and pieces about Bluebonnet, wishing he could keep those pieces somewhere he could look through, without having to delve so deeply into his memories, or risk losing them forever.    

 When he brought that up in passing during one of his mothers phone call, she mentioned how she used to keep a notebook filled with information about her soulmate, originally, then his father.   

 The idea stayed with him, him deciding to wait for a little extra money, before an impulse hit when he went to the grocery. The intention with the trip had been food, and some refills on school supplies and on his way out, he had passed by a notebook, nothing to note about it besides the color being the same as, well, bluebonnets.    

 Dell had taken one look at it, looked at his left arm, which was being slowly filled with colored ink which Bluebonnet had gotten from someone as a gift, before grabbing the notebook and turning to head back into the line to pay for it.    

 After a year had passed, and Dell was 26, he had gotten a perplexing message on his arm, and he stared for a good while, before reaching to the pen he kept in his pocket.    

 Bluebonnet had written down the name of one of the colleges in Texas, and he couldn't figure out why.   

 'Bluebonnet, mind telling me why you wrote down the name of a college in the area?'    

  'So it is in your area? Yes! That narrows it down a lot.'    

 Dell stared a moment more, trying to figure what the plan was.    

  'Narrows down what? Because all I can tell is that you've picked a wierd hobby today, blue.'   

 He waits for a few minutes, getting into a more comfortable position while he waits for them to finish. Finally, the message appears.   

  "Ok, so you've mentioned that bluebonnet are your state flower, and they are theTexas state flower, so you're from Texas, right? And you've mentioned being at a pretty prestigious college in your state, because you didn't want to be too far from home. The college means all I had to do was look through college records in Texas to see if I could figure out who you are, because it'd have to be somewhere, you know?' You're families pretty famous, too, so I've been looking through newspaper to see if any engine-neering families had people in college.'    

 Dell reads through the message once, then twice, then a third time just to see if he had read it right. After the third time, a booming laugh escapes him, realizing what Bluebonnet was trying to do, and wondering why he hadn't thought about that. Maybe it was because to him, the family name didn't mean much, at least not the same way it meant to other people.    

 He rereads the message once more, before taking his pen to his skin.   

 'Blue, have I ever told you just how damn smart you are? Because that is exceptionally clever and I don't know how people can call you stupid, not when you figure stuff like this.'    

 The ink fades from view, but Dell only waits a moment before another message appears, this time filled with 'of course their smart' before it disappears and nothing appears through the link. Dell worries for a moment, before seeing his soulmate's message appear, asking if it was okay to do so.    

  'Darling, why wouldn't it be? Keep giving guesses, and I'll give as much an answer I can, alright?'    

 The response to him saying that is clearly an excited message, seeing the more messy than usual handwriting show up, before Bluebonnet starts giving off names, first of colleges, and then of people in the college. The only time Dell interrupts is to ask him how he even has the information, to which he was told that they just went into a library and asked. The rest of the time is him saying no, before finally, the message he had been waiting for comes in.    

  'Dell Conagher'   

 He gives a shout, excited that his soulmate had figured out who he was, before remembering that he should probably respond.    

  'Yes, yes! That's me!'    

  'Really?'    

  'Yes!!'   

  'Awesome! you look different than I thought you did, though.'    

 Dell stops dead in his excitement, filling with a dread, because he had forgotten that technically, they would be able to see what he looked like. All short, with less hair than anyone else his age, and sure that any picture taken was always bad in quality. 

 Dread that vanished immediately with their message of excitement that they were taller than him, saying that older apparently didn't mean taller. He relaxed then, happy that Bluebonnet didn't seem to care all too much about the way he looked.    

 He picks up his pen once more, to defend his short man honor from mean soulmates, and sank back down into his seat.    

 After a point, two years had passed since they had begun talking, messages coming in whenever they both had freetime, although with Dell's exams, and Bluebonnets practices, it wasn't often or much. The messages that they did share, however, were cherished by Dell whenever an exam or presentation ended, and when Dell was 27 and had finished his last exam, telling his Bluebonnet that he'd be done with college for at least a few years with his final exam being two hours prior.    

 Two weeks later, when the results for the exams were given, Dell's friend group coming together to show results, Shane asked the group if they should go to the bar to celebrate.    

 Of course, relieved that exams were done, and believing he deserved a few beers at least in celebration, Dell agreed.