(okay, this isn't romantic. I was inspired to write something kind of creepy, and I shall do so if I wish to. Now, fanfic...START!)

A young boy was walking around after a battle won, and came upon a box.

"What's in there?" His Bostonian accent was prominent in his speaking as he bent down to examine the box.

The box seemed fancy enough to be owned by one of his teammates, a Frenchman with expensive tastes. When he opened it, it was empty.

"Well, might as well take it..." He picked it up and walked back to the base with a hop in his step, per usual.

Once he got back to the base, one of his teammates came up to him.

"Where did you steal the box from?" The Frenchman aforementioned had a voice dripping with suspicion as he took a look at the box.

"I didn't steal it! I found it after we won, Laurent." Laurent glared at the young boy.

"Do not call me that, James. You know I only go by my class name." James rolled his eyes.

"Me too, you freaking crouton." Laurent huffed and walked away. James walked into the common room, where everybody usually is.

"Hey guys, do any of you know whose this is?" The team doctor came up and examined the box.

"It seems like something Herr Spy might own...But I'm guessing you already asked him?" James nodded at the slightly insane German doctor, who shrugged at his response.

"Then, it seems like it belongs to you, if anyone does not claim it in the next five seconds."

They waited.

Nobody said anything.

"Then, all I will say is take good care of it. It seems old." James nodded and ran up to his room to put it somewhere safe.

"Do you really think he's gonna take good care of it? I mean, he's a kid..." The drunk Scotsman had a point. James was only 21, and way too energetic from all the soda he drank.

"Well, he found it, right? If he breaks it, it's his fault, and it doesn't really matter." Everyone nodded in agreement at this piece of wisdom from the short Texan engineer.

"Oh, who cares what happens to the box? It's time to eat! We won today, men, and we deserve some good food!" The six men in the room cheered at the militaristic Midwestern American's statement, and they all raced to the mess hall.

After dinner, everyone was tired and drunk. They all stumbled to their respective rooms, except for the Scottish demolitions expert, who passed out on the couch.

"Ah jeez, I gotta drag you to your room again?" James griped and whined as he dragged Tavish's unconscious form to his room. Once he was done, he went to bed himself, with the box resting on his bedside table.

The next morning, James wasn't as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he usually was. He still talked a lot, but not as much. He still moved around a lot, but not as much.

"Scout? You feeling alright?" The tall Australian put a comforting hand on James' shoulder.

"I feel fine, Snipes. Jeez, I'm not a baby!" The Sniper huffed and smacked him before returning to his food.

"You twitchy hooligan..."

That day, in battle, Scout wasn't performing his best. He wasn't as fast, and he was low on the scoreboard. Afterwards, the hot-blooded American grabbed James by the collar.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT IN BATTLE TODAY, SON?!" James shrugged.

"I dunno." The Soldier dropped the poor boy and grumbled, stalking off.

"Hey, don't worry about Jane. He's still happy we won, he was just expectin' you a little higher in the ratings." James nodded.

"Thanks, Dell."

"Of course, son." Dell walked off to start cooking dinner with the Medic.

Things got worse as time went on. James got less and less motivated each day, almost as if he was emptying of energy.

One day, the Medic decided that enough was enough.

"I'm taking the box tonight."

"Henrik, you wouldn't do that! Would you?" Laurent cast a questioning gaze at Henrik.

"He's performing worse every day, and I believe the box is somehow behind it. Ich werde diese Scheiße nicht mehr nehmen! I'm taking the verdammte box!" The German marched upstairs and threw open the door to Scout's room.

"Hey, Doc. What's up?"

"What's up? Oh, I'll tell you what's up! That box is deteriorating your mental state and ability! I'm confiscating it for medical reasons!" Henrik quickly took the box off the end table.

"What's in here, anyway?" He opened the box, and a great gust of air suddenly flew through the room. Scout quickly got angry.

"Yo! What's your major malfunction?! It's mine! I found it!" Henrik simply ignored this, turning away and walking out.

"Fascinating..." He started running tests on the box, to see if it had any magical properties that could somehow survive Halloween.

"What are you doing, Doctor?" Henrik looked up at the great Russian bear that stood before him.

"Oh, nothing, just running some tests. Why, are you bored?" Mikhail chuckled and shook his head.

"нет, is just...You look tired, Doctor. You should get rest, Да?" Henrik smiled.

"Ja, I suppose it is getting late. This time is probably the only time that I will come to bed the same time you do, though, mein starker russischer Bär." Medic stood up, taking the box with him. Mikhail looked at him questioningly.

"Why do you take box?" Medic smiled at his lover's endearing broken English.

"I want to keep it close for some reason. It's absolutely fascinating, and I might run some more tests early in the morning. I don't want to make any noise looking for it in the dark." Mikhail nods and kisses Medic's forehead.

"Я люблю тебя, Ludwig."

"Ich liebe dich auch, Misha."

They both went to bed shortly after, not really caring that the box lay so close to them.

The next morning, Ludwig didn't wake up how he usually did. No kiss good morning for Misha, just straight to work. Mikhail was slightly perturbed by this, and felt a bit sad.

He wouldn't dare disturb his Doctor, however, and went to clean his beloved mini-gun, Sascha, as normal.

"Doktor, I wish to know why you fought so much today. I died many times, and Soldier is on my back about score." Ludwig simply shook his head dismissively and went back into his lab to study the box.

"Oh, this is bad..."

"What's up, lardass? You and the Medic caught in a snit?" Misha glared at James, before sighing heavily.

"нет, we do not argue. He is just ignoring me in favor of stupid box..." James chuckled.

"Looks like he might not be so into you, tough guy. Maybe you offended him in some way? He's like a broad, emotional and confusing." Misha nodded.

"Спасибо, little man. Maybe we just need to talk." James nodded and walked away. Mikhail took a deep breath and walked into the lab, prepared to argue with Ludwig. Instead, well...

"Komme sie bitte, Herr Heavy. I need to run some experiments on you!" Misha sighed.

"Doktor, Heavy just wants to talk..."

"Shush! On the medical table, und prepare for your examination! I made a new device that might help you in battle!"

The doctor operated on Mikhail, leaving him a new man with a bigger heart(quite literally) and a robotic attachment. The madman somehow could make Mikhail invincible for eight seconds with this device.

"Can we talk now, Doktor? No more jokes, just discussing matters between us." Ludwig shook his head dismissively and continued working with the box. Mikhail growled.

"Doktor, please. This is last time I will ask nicely." Medic groaned and turned away from the box.

"Vas ist los, Heavy? Can't you see I'm working?!" Heavy exclaimed in annoyance.

"Exactly! You need to stop working on box!" Medic groaned and started tapping his foot in annoyance.

"And? The box doesn't matter. Now go to bed. You wouldn't understand what I'm doing." Mikhail felt his new augmented mega-baboon heart crack. Henrik always took the time to explain things when Mikhail didn't understand. What happened to his Doctor?

"Fine...Я люблю тебя..." Misha walked to their room after a few moments without reply. He felt hurt, less so than when he saw his Doctor dying on the field today, but his heart still ached.

The next morning, Henrik wasn't in bed next to Misha. When the Russian went to investigate, the German had passed out on his desk, with the box next to his head. Misha picked up the poor doctor and laid him in bed, going to the kitchen to get breakfast for himself.

He still cared for his dear Henrik Ludwig, but after last night? A surgery, then being forced into bed by Ludwig's apathy, without even an 'I love you'? He could get his own breakfast.

"DOKTOR!" Misha called. Ludwig kept on jumping around with his Blutsauger and Ubersaw, not caring whether he died again. Mikhail roared loudly, standing in front of his beloved and taking the bullets for him. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

"SCHWIENHUNDE! I CAN TAKE THE BULLETS!" Misha did not care. He just swept up his crazy Doctor and carried him to a safe place with a Medpack. Medic took the health pack, while Heavy ate his sandwich.

"Get back out there, dummkopf! The team needs you!" Heavy growled in response. Medic didn't waver.

"And I need my Doktor. Healing makes me stronger, and we need to hit charge to kill tiny baby men. Why do you deny us win?"

"I want to slay them myself! I want to see the life drain from their eyes when I stab them clean through! I want to hear their cries for help while I gun them down with needles! You cannot deny me this, du dummer, schwacher Teddybär!" Heavy dropped his Medic and walked away, not caring anymore.

"Pyro! With me!" He called, and the mysterious firebug went with him to kill tiny baby men.

His heart ached. He took out his anger with bullets, but he still wondered what he had done wrong. Was he not good enough? Was his Doctor getting tired of him? All these questions floated around in his head at dinner.

"You alright, Heavy? Something happen?" Heavy sighed down at the Texan, considering not telling the team mother the one thing that would impact their wins forever.

"C'mon, I won't tell anyone."

"Fine. Medic and Heavy argue over strategy. He make me stronger recently, but it require his help. He won't give me help needed, so I cannot kill tiny babies on other team. He called me names. I do not know what I did wrong, and...He scares me these days..." Dell patted Misha on the shoulder.

"I'm sure it'll be okay, big guy. Maybe one of his experiments on himself actually worked, and he's visiting Aunt Flow." Misha cast him a confused look.

"Aunt...Flow?" Dell sighed.

"A period, alright? Menstruating." Misha nodded, confused. Why would his dear Henrik Ludwig make those adjustments, unless...

"Medic wants to bear child?" Engie started sputtering, his face heating up in embarrassment. Heavy sighed and walked away.

"Is Doctor on period?" Henrik tensed up.

"NO! I AM NOT ON MY PERIOD! And h-how did you know about my experiments?" Mikhail sighed deeply.

"Engineer told me of what you were working on. Now, why are you so cranky?"

"I am not cranky! I just want to battle for myself sometimes!"

"Да, but not three days in row, Doctor. You are back at my side after one life, usually. Why do you hold out?"

"BECAUSE I DO NOT NEED YOU! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR ONE SECOND! JESUS CHRIST, I AM NOT A BABY!"

Misha was severely hurt by this. He flinched, then turned and left. He was just trying to show he cared...was he being too clingy?

Henrik gathered himself, then turned to apologize, only to find that Misha wasn't there. He was shocked for a moment, before turning cold.

"Bah, wer braucht ihn. Ich kann es alleine schaffen! Ich werde es ihm zeigen, ich werde ihn nicht einmal im Kampf heilen! Mal sehen, wie er damit umgeht!" He forced a smile onto his face, not really wanting to go through with his plan. But something compelled him to, and he didn't know what...

"DOKTOR!"

"DOC, C'MON MAN!"

"MEEEEEEEDIIIIIIIC!"

"MEEEEEEH-DIC!"

"DOCTOR!"

"MEDIC!"

"MRRDRR!"

"MEDIC!"

The insane doctor heeded none of their calls, least of all the Heavy. His Kuschelbär could wait until after battle, when he could patch him up properly. The others, he had no sympathy for. He kept running around and dying repeatedly, not caring, for there was Respawn.

"I swear to god, it's something to do with that darn box!" Dell paced as he explained why it would have to do with the box and his theories on how to stop it to the Pyro, but they were lost in dreamland.

"And I- Pyro, are you even listening? You always listen..."

"R'm srrRr, I hrrRsm drr'm srr wrr rr're so rrhrm thrm rm's thrr brrx ernd nrrm jrrsm srrm frm thrr Mrrdrr's hrrvrrn," The gasmask-insistent firestarter mumbled. (translation; I'm sorry, I honestly don't see why you're so sure that it's the box and not just some fit the Medic's having.) Engie sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Remember when Scout was off a bit?"

"Uh-huh."

"He had the box on him at that time, right?"

Pyro nodded, not really getting it in the Engie's eyes. Pyro was just playing around, though. They knew exactly what was going on.

"And when Medic took the box, it stopped, right?"

"OOOOOOOOH! NRM R grm rm!" The pyromaniac clapped happily at their understanding while Engie shook his head and chuckled. (translation; OOOOOOOH! NOW I get it!)

"So, I'm thinking, maybe if we took the box from Medic, it'd go back to normal with him." Pyro nodded.

"Mrbr wr srrd jrrst brrn thrr brrx." (Translation; maybe we should just burn the box.)

"Heh, well, we need to get it first!" Pyro nodded. They both exited the workshop and made their way to the Med Bay.

Frustrated German could be heard through the closed door. Dell cautiously opened the door to see the good doctor working on the box.

"Hey, Doc? Think this is a good time for our monthly brainstorm?" Henrik looked up.

"Bah, I do not have the time for some stupid thinking! I need to figure out this box!"

"That's what I want to brainstorm about, Doc. Figured you could use a hand, since you've done nothing but coop yourself up in here. Hell, Doc, you aren't even eating! I can see your bones!"

The insane doctor looked down and saw how skinny he was. He wasn't eating much to begin with, either...

"Ach, fine. But I do not want to eat. I'm not hungry." Engie came in, and Pyro followed quietly.

"Oh, Pyro. I forgot about our appointment. Sit down on the table and we'll get it over with quickly." Pyro nods and sits down, swinging their legs.

"Okay, take off the mask, bitte, and we can get to work."

Now that Henrik was fully distracted, Dell quietly ran over to the box. He opened the lid carefully. For a second, he could see a glowing cartoon-ish heart, but then it disappeared in a rush of wind.

"Okay, stay still. I don't want to hu-" The scissors Henrik was holding were dropped to the floor. He became fuller, and tears welled in his eyes.

"Oh gott, the things I said- HEAVY!" Henrik raced out to look for and apologize to his precious Kuschelbär, the one who he hurt unintentionally.

Dell puzzled at this, but just shrugged.

"Uhm...do you know when he might come back, Ingeniero? I still need my haircut..." Dell shrugged and left for his workshop.

"I need to get this to safety, then I'll come right back and give you your haircut, okay? I don't think he's coming back tonight. Or tomorrow, either. He'll probably be too sore to walk..." Pyro giggled.

"Hurry back, okay? My hair is getting uncomfortable under the mask." Dell nodded and raced off, dropping the box in an unused corner of his workshop, keeping his promise to hurry back.

It's been some time since Dell took the box from Henrik. Everything's back to normal now. Nobody argues more than usual, they're winning again, and a nice long ceasefire week was coming up due to damaged equipment.

Scout and Demo planned a party to celebrate. Both teams were invited, but the Engineers declined.

A ceasefire week was good time to put their heads together and think up new weapons, both able to be bought from the workshop and basic ones available to everyone. Although on opposing teams, they were still friends, and admired each other's intelligence. Blu Soldier and Red Demo were dancing with each other at the party, still friends as well.

There were many cross-faction relationships, some platonic, and others, something more. One particularly intriguing scandal was the relationship of the two Scouts, the only people on the teams that were related to each other. They were from Boston, but they might as well have been raised in Alabama, the way they were acting with each other.

The Engineers discussed this, along with some new plans for weapons, and implementation of old ones.

"Cut off your hand yet?" The Blu Engie nearly spat out his beer.

"Cut off my hand?! I'm not as crazy as you, Dell. I'm not cutting off my hand to be able to use that mini-sentry you designed. I'm not one to rush into battle." Dell nodded.

"True, Jeb. I never see you out there, not once, unless it's a control point map, and even then, that's rare." Jebediah chuckled.

"I wasn't raised around steers, hoss. I was raised around colts, considerably calmer. I guess that contributes to my easy-going ways?" Dell shrugged.

"That'd be a better question to ask the Medic. I don't know a thing about emotional or philosophical problems."

"True. We solve practical problems, now don't we?" They shared a laugh. It was a running joke with them, practical problems. They both put it down on their application papers, and they both introduced themselves with the idea.

"Okay, now let's get down to business.(to defeat...THE HUNNNNS) Scout found this box, and..." Jeb shushed him.

"That can wait till later. Now, I got some Medigun blueprints for the Medics. It has..." Dell sighed and cozied up. Once Jebediah got talking, it was hard to make him stop.

Some time later, they had pieced together all sorts of prototypes for the whole team, including some they would send to the Administrator herself for official consideration. Once they finished all of that, they were tired. So tired, in fact, that Jeb fell asleep on the desk, snoring loudly.

"You always fall asleep first, don'cha..." Dell picked him up and dragged him over to the Blu Heavy, who carried him back to their base.

"Hey Engie..." Dell turned around to come face-to-chest the Blu Soldier.

"Hey, honeybee. What's up? Other than you, of course." He smiled up at the considerably taller man.

"It's been some time since we've been able to see each other on any sort of ceasefire..." Dell nodded.

"You want to take out some frustrations, John?" John nodded. Dell chuckled.

"Well, I'd be much obliged." John promptly picked up Dell.

"Get ready, sweetheart." Dell laughed nervously.

"First, could we go back to the workshop? I got something I need to grab so I can study it in the morning." John obliged, carrying him to the workshop that Jeb had just fallen asleep in.

"The box?"

"Yup." John picked it up and examined it.

"What's so special about the box?"

"It messes around with people's emotions, psyches, and response to bodily needs. I need to find out why it's doing that so I can stop it." John shrugged and carried the box with him, setting it down on the desk a bit away from them.

John wasn't so focused on it, but Dell wanted to find out what was going on with every inch of his being. The box latched onto him, just like it had latched onto Henrik and James. There was something unnatural about that box, and it kept Dell up that night, even though he was especially tired after spending that time with John.

In the morning, Dell carefully made his way out of John's arms, having had a lot of practice, and went to the box. He opened it again but found nothing inside. He puzzled at this, pulling his clothes on quickly and going back to the ceasefire workshop. He pulled the box close and concentrated fully on it, working until the devil's hour in the morning.

Pyro found Dell slumped over the box, sleeping soundly. They mumbled to themselves under the gas mask and picked Dell up, carrying him to his room.

Then they took the box and burned it. They knew that something was definitely wrong with it, and he wouldn't let the candyland he saw instead of the real world be tainted by the deep shadow surrounding the box. It was pretty, but you can't always trust looks.

Pyro swept the ashes off the cliff, seeing the shadow dissipate into the colourful sky he saw. Then he saw that same light he always saw when the box was opened, only this time, the sound coming from it was like Dell's guitar.

James' sounded like some beats being tapped out on bongos.

Henrik's sounded like a violin.

They knew that music let the soul free, but they didn't know that the music itself was in the soul. What kind of evil possessed the box that it wanted to take away what made the people around the poor Pyro special? Pyro couldn't understand this, but they knew that it wouldn't mess with them for a while.

They turned from the cliff and skipped off happily, bringing their Rainblower with them. Anything could be solved with bubbles, and it made the babies they played with laugh! They loved bubbles.

They couldn't see the truth, the evil thing they did, but they knew when a true evil was around. They always protected their teammates from those evils, even when the team didn't realize it. Pyro was always sneaking around the base, keeping away the shadows and the dark spikes that threatened the team on a spiritual level.

The box had a heavy shadow around it since the start, and they had been trying to get to it ever since Scout found it. The rest of the team didn't understand, though, and they always kept him away from Scout's room, and they knew Spy would scold them again if they snuck into the Med Bay at night again. They didn't like getting scolded by him, he was mean...

But it all worked out in the end, didn't it? Everybody was safe, and nobody was the wiser to what happened to the empty box.