Chapter Text
A dusty whirring, a sharp click, and the tape cassette ejected itself from the slot of the built-in cassette tape player in the dashboard of the camper van. It stayed there, without an attempt to be pressed back inside. The vehicle instead filled with the sound of silence, accompanied by a backtrack of consistent tapping of rain and the rhythmic squeak of windshield wipers.
Sniper peered out from under the dutifully working wipers and was barely able to make out the outside landscape, much less any visual of the sign for his exit. He couldn’t help the grim smile that crawled across his sunbaked mug of a face - the flat line fitting right at home amongst the less than pleasant weather that surrounded the vehicle.
An unforgiving storm had pelted him ever since he’d left the Red home base just over 3 hours ago. As his van roved over a road that was considerably less flattened dirt and more of a rough and rocky terrain, Sniper shook his head and slipped his fingertips under his glasses to rub tiredly at his eyes. “Ah, piss,” he muttered.
****
The front tires hit something big and Sniper’s grip tightened on the wheel, vision quickly sharpening as he concentrated on not overcorrecting. The last thing he needed in this downpour was to drive Winnie and him over a cliff. A gasp, then a sharp curse rang out to his right, and Sniper felt a nasty icy sting run throughout his veins. Shit , he’d forgotten about the kid. In the back of the van, the muffled sound of something hitting the floor told him he’d have a fun surprise to look through later.
He settled the campervan back onto the road slowly, carefully. It was a miracle on earth that the hellscape he was traveling through hadn’t taken out a tire and sent them careening off into the desert. He decided that he didn’t want to push her, or his luck too far. No use taking too many risks on such soggy, waterlogged terrain - keeping it safe was the way to go.
“ Damn , Snipes! What the hell ? Ya just get your frickin’ driver’s license or are ya trying to kill us or sum’n?!” At the impact, the Scout had jumped nearly out of his skin, his back now perched up against the door where he’d scrambled backwards out of his seat when the van had violently lurched. His eyes were wide open, the remnants of deep sleep having been blinked away and he’d lost his hat somewhere in the process, looking for all the world like a frightened animal backed into a corner.
Sniper fought the urge to roll his own eyes at the outburst and just narrowly missed ending up on the losing side of that particular battle. “S’not my fault. It’s pouring out there,” he mumbled, uncurling the now white knuckled grip his fingers had settled into and stretching them out to tap on the steering wheel a few times.
Scout’s shoulders lowered, his body sagging in relaxation as he leaned forward to look up through the windshield. “Oh. Huh, yeah, I guess it is.”
Sniper nodded. “You can go back to sleepin’ if you’d like, mate. S’no bother to me,” he remarked, wincing internally at how loud his voice sounded in the hush that had settled in the van. He hadn’t really expected Scout to stop talking for longer than a few minutes, much less fall asleep so quickly into the trip. They'd left before the sun was up, and dully, in the back of his mind, he grasped at the one sided conversation where Scout had mentioned that he got carsick. That explained that. A look at his wrist watch showed at least 6 more hours before they reached their destination. He briefly considered the possibility of Scout napping for the rest of the journey before nipping that idea in the bud - Sniper could see that the roo was wide awake.
Scout grinned toothily, a crooked thing that sat just right on that face, Sniper mused. “Nah, man. Engie made me promise to keep you company. Y’know, keeping the driver awake and entertained is a big responsibility and all that jazz. Gotta make sure you don’t, uh fall asleep at the wheel and kill us both. Don't want a repeat of just now. I gotta make sure I get back home in one piece for Miss P. M'pretty sure I'm irreplaceable. These legs are worth a fortune - priceless, really."
Sniper heard rustling and once he plucked up the courage to cast another sideways glance he saw Scout was ducking down to reach under the seat and rummage through his backpack. He'd barely formed the question in his mind when he received his answer - Scout pulled out a small drawstring bag from which he drew a handful of cassette tapes. “You like music, right?” He prattled on without giving the Sniper the chance to reply, “Ah, of course you do. Everyone loves music! It's what brings us all together if y'ask me. Ma told me that when I was real young and it stuck ever since. She's never wrong, you can count on that.”
He shuffled through the tapes one by one until he settled on one with a short, triumphant laugh. “Aw yeah. Hope you like this one, cuz we’re gonna listen to the whole frickin’ thing I swear.”
Even if Sniper’d had an argument ready, it would have died in his already drying throat before it made it out his mouth. His already rusty social skills were no match up against the Red team’s resident chatterbox - he knew that. Instead, he hummed. A quick upturn at the corners of his mouth being his only reply to his teammate.
Scout pressed the tape into the cassette player.
...
Mama said there'll be days like this
There'll be days like this, mama said
(Mama said, mama said)
Mama said there'll be days like this
There'll be days like this, my mama said
(Mama said, mama said)
Sheets of rain pattered at the sides of the van, frosting the edges of the windows with its chill. Scout settled back into his seat with an open notebook in his lap, hands smoothing down the paper as he sang along to the song. Sniper huffed, a quiet laugh disguised as a sigh as he continued driving through the wet. And the music played.
****
