God Bless America

That afternoon, there was a battle for control points. While Demo's team did win, everybody needed some time to cool down from the intensity of the battle. Demo took this as an opportunity to confront the Soldier. He needed to know what he thought of the non-Americans on the team. Non-Americans like Demo. While the Soldier did nothing yet, Demo needed to ensure there was no malice. Soldier may be goofy, but he was also a wildcard. It was what made him dangerous to his enemies. The question was if Soldier would see his own teammates as enemies now. Demo stood in front of Soldier’s bedroom door, wondering whether he should knock. Would Soldier be harsher on him, knowing he was not American? The events of this morning happened in too much of a rush to provide any basis for how Soldier would react. Well, only one way to find out. Demo was about to knock on the door. But before he could even raise his hand, the door opened. Soldier looked at Demo from underneath his helmet. “Demo! Get yourself in here before I push you in here myself!” It was not what Demo expected. By this point, he expected for Soldier to tell him to get lost. Still, he wasn’t about to turn down an invite. Once Demo strolled into the bedroom, Soldier slammed the door behind him. He looked at the Demo again, saying nothing. Demo fidgeted under the insistent stare. Sure, Soldier did tend to stare at people, though Demo never knew why. Still, it would be great if the Soldier could say anything. If Soldier wasn't going to say anything, Demo might as well talk to him about his purpose of this visit. He took a deep breath. "Hey, Solly-" Soldier held up a hand. "Say no more, Demo. I know why you're here." Demo frowned. "You ken?" He didn’t know Soldier was a mind-reader. "Yes." Soldier strode over to his desk in the corner, a sturdy wooden structure free of any dust. When he returned to his original spot, he was holding a pile of pamphlets in bright colours. "Demoman. I trust that you are here to help me spread the good word of our beautiful country, the United States of America." He held out the pile with the respect of a medal. "I'm here to what?" Of all things that could happen in this room… At least it was better than the alternative of rejection. He would take what he could get. "You will help me spread the good word about our beautiful country, the United States of America!" Soldier thrust the pile of pamphlets into Demo's arms. Out of instinct, Demo received the pamphlets. He took a minute to read the first one in the pile. Demo was horrible at English, as he often confused some words with Scottish Galeic. Still, he was certain that the front cover of the pamphlet had misspellings. For one thing, Soldier spelled America as 'Amerika'. It raised a lot of questions about what Soldier planned to do, but Demo didn’t know where to start. "Solly, can't ye slow down a bit? Ah dinnae ken what you're gettin' at." Demo should've gotten a quick drink before visiting. His headache from this morning's failed meeting had started to disappear. He felt it returning with each passing second. Soldier straightened his back. It was as if he were lining up for a military inspection. "Demoman, you are my friend. A good one, maybe even the best. I trust you to do this task for me. As a non-American, you will greatly assist me in this task. You will be handing out these very informative pamphlets to our non-American teammates!" Soldier still considered him a friend! Even if this conversation made little sense, Demo smiled. Picking up one of the pamphlets from the pile, Demo read past the front cover. The rest of the pamphlet was full of grammar mistakes and spelling errors. It was obvious Soldier authored these. He couldn't confirm if anything within this pamphlet had true information. After all, Soldier was prone to exaggeration and misunderstanding. Like the time he lectured about how Sun Tzu used his fight money to buy a pair of every animal on Earth. Before proceeding to 'beat the crap out of every single one of them'. Demo was unsure of the accuracy, but the Director still filmed it for his video series. He was also unsure if Abraham Lincoln died rocket-jumping up the stairs. At least, that was what the pamphlet said. Then again, he was shit at history in general. Who knew what the truth was anymore? Still, there was another problem. It was a greater problem than historical accuracy. For one thing, what was the purpose of this? There was no reason for Soldier to take the time to create informative pamphlets. At least, none that Demo could figure out. It was likely the recipients wouldn't read them either. All that bloody effort for nothing. Demo raised a pamphlet, about to voice his thoughts. "I cannot stand here with you all day! I must return to rocket-jumping." He clapped a hand on Demo's shoulder as he walked past. "Oh. And if Engie asks about his recording device, I definitely do not have it hidden away in a secure location!" Before Demo could question him further, Soldier bolted out of his room. With how fast Soldier ran, one would think he left something burning in the oven. But once Soldier started on an idea, it would be difficult to stop him. For now, Demo could only brace himself and hope for the best. "Hah, who am I kidding?" He strolled out of the room in search of his own bedroom, where he kept his alcohol stash. When it came to Soldier and his plans, something would always go wrong. It was the reality Demo came to accept once he joined this team. As he walked, Demo remembered the pile of pamphlets in his hands. He could throw them out. But he couldn’t do that to his friend. It was best to follow his demands. Besides, there was nothing controversial in the pamphlets. They should be safe enough to pass out. What was the worst thing that could happen? When he descended the stairs to the common room, Demo found his answer in Engie. Instead of the rubber glove covering his right hand, Engie’s Gunslinger was visible. He clenched his Gunslinger into a fist. When he noticed Demo, the usual warm tone in his voice was gone. Instead, it was tense. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Solly ran off to with my recording device, do you?” It was a general rule at the base that Engie’s contraptions and tools were off-limits. Unless they wanted a Texan-styled conversation. Nobody wanted to learn what said conversation would entail. It was best to give Engie a wide berth for the rest of the day. To maintain casualness, Demo shrugged. “Ah dinnae ken.” It was true. Soldier wasn’t specific about the location. He looked out of the window, noticing Soldier rocket-jumping in the distance. He hoped Soldier knew to avoid Engie for the rest of the day. Engie grumbled under his breath. He was about to walk past Engie to deliver the pamphlets. It was best to do this sober. Engie glanced at the pamphlets. “Whatcha got there?” “Pamphlets for the ‘non-Americans’. Ah dinnae ken what Solly’s got cooked up under that helmet.” Demo shook his head. Engie opened his mouth, about to say something, but the static of the PA speakers cut him off. "O say, can you see..." Demo was certain it was a recording of America's national anthem. “What in tarnation?” Engie stared at the speaker in the ceiling, raising his eyebrows. Demo looked up as well. He wasn’t drunk enough for this whole day. At the same time, rockets exploded out in the snowy fields. It was coming closer. It was as if the explosion was right beside the building. Glass shattered. Demo and Engie turned away from the noise. They ducked under their arms. Debris bounced off them. “Screaming Eagles!” Winter air rushed into the building. A body thumped against the wooden floors. When Demo looked up from his arms, he saw Soldier lying down on the floor amidst shattered window pieces. He held a small, black object in one hand. His other hand gripped the Liberty Launcher. His helmet still covered his eyes, but his wide grin was visible. There were no words that Demo could say. Engie had plenty of words. He tossed his hands in the air and looked down at Soldier. “Soldier! What in Sam Hill are you doing? And is that my darned device you got there in your hands?” “God bless America,” muttered Soldier. Then, he passed out. Demo could use a drink now.