[Spy clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He taps his fingertips gently against his teammate's cheek before setting his hand back down on Scout's shoulder.]

You're 'urt. I was-- responsible. For some t'ings. [A pause.] I am not completely 'eartless, you know.

[Spy raises his head back towards the door. The shuffle of feet has subsided for now, but he suspects that it will return sooner than later.]

I doubt it, but it won't 'urt to close t'e door. And to be quiet. If you can manage t'at.

[He leans over to close the door, careful not to disturb his teammate. When the door clicks shut, it blocks out whatever maintenance machines had been making background noise, instilling a feeling of quiet in the cramped space of the closet.

It occurs to him now that he's not even sure where Scout's body is situated in relation to his. Spy's back is propped up against a shelf, one of his knees against a wall, and the other close enough to Scout that he can feel his body heat.]