TF2: Defect 5

"Victory..."

Heavy glanced over his shoulder, and let his shoulders sag as he realised Medic was no longer behind him. "Doktor!"

He glanced around, heart sinking. They'd been pushed back violently to the second capture point. Acting on Medic's advice, Engineer had managed to set up another level three sentry behind the entry point, with Heavy and Medic taking up a station on the opposite end. The BLUs were slaughtered, although it looked like Medic had also been graced with a trip through respawn.

"Doktor!" Running towards their own respawn room, Heavy noticed the Blutsauger and Vitasaw placed carefully in Medic's locker, and groaned. Medic was already inside the base somewhere.

Sniper grimaced, and set his own weapons away quietly. "Doc's in the rec room, Heavy." He murmured. "If that's who you're looking for."

Heavy loaded Sasha into his own locker. "Thank you." He strode back through the base, and found Medic sat on the couch, curled up.

Heavy sat down next to him, his fingers twisting together. "I...am sorry."

Medic shook his head, gazing at the television set. "You did your job." He sighed. "I just...I vish..."

"Docteur...I hate to interrupt..." Spy gasped, and slumped to the floor.

Medic dived over the back of the couch. "Scheisse, vhat happened?" He asked. "Help me get him onto zhe table..." Unbuttoning his sleeves to roll them up, Medic glanced up. "Scout, zhere's a large, vhite medikit in mein infirmary, go get it. Pyro, can you retrieve my medigun?" Both of them shot off, eager to help.

Spy groaned as Heavy scooped him up, placing him on the table. "Spy?"

"Their blasted Scout shot at me...he got lucky." Spy grated out. "Zhe bullet's still in my arm."

"Hey Doc, this the right one?" Scout asked breathlessly. Medic nodded, and flicked the latches on his kit, pulling on a pair of thin gloves.

"Spy, I'm going to use a local anaesthetic to numb you up before I do anything." He retrieved a needle and a vial, his hands steady as he carefully filled the needle.

"Relax..." Medic murmured, before the needle sank into Spy's arm. "You're doing well...Heavy, help me remove his jacket and vest."

"N-non..."

"Would you razher I cut your suit to get to zhe vound?"

Spy bit on his lip as he was gently manuvered upright, and his clothes were removed. He was set back down, and Medic gently pressed a finger against his skin. "Numb?"

"I believe so..." Spy grated out.

"Sehr Gut. Tell me if you feel anyzhing." Medic carefully selected his scalpel, and sliced with deft fingers at the skin surrounding the bullet wound, pausing as he felt the tip brush against metal. "Found it..."

"Doc, you need a hand?"

Medic shook his head, and carefully selected a pair of needle-nosed forceps.

"I can see zhe bullet, I hope I can get it out in one pull." He rested his left hand on Spy's chest, and seperated the forceps, before slipping them into the small hole.

"Scheisse..." He gently pulled, and Spy grimaced. "Heavy, hold him down..."

"Oh, zhat's never a good sign." Spy muttered. Pyro reappeared, and Medic nodded at him "Get it over with."

Medic opened the forceps wider, and dug them down into the wound, catching the bullet. He pulled steadily while Heavy held Spy still, both locked in a momentary tug of war.

The bullet came loose, and Medic dropped the forceps, turning to accept his medigun from Pyro before aiming it squarely at Spy, who groaned in relief as his flesh knitted back together.

"Merci, Docteur." He sighed, before sliding off of the table, and scooping up the rogue bullet. "I don't zhink I like his new gun."

Medic carefully set his medigun down, and gathered his dirty equipment up, fetching a towel to mop up Spy's blood. "At least you're all right." He packed the medikit back up, and moved to scoop his medigun up, startled when Sniper reached down to pick it up.

"Go on. I'll bring this, you go ahead." He followed the Medic along to the infirmary, and Medic turned around, unable to escape the sudden hug.

"S-Sniper!"

"Thanks. Our old Doc preferred to let respawn pick us up..." He was shaking. "Me and the Spook...we..."

A loud sob escaped the man behind him, and Medic realised. They didn't like the crushing blackness of respawn, the horrible uncertainty of whether their death would be prolonged or granted an instantaneous respawn. He knew that fear.

He reached up to pat at Sniper's hands. "I'll do my best to make sure you don't need to respawn. You, Spy...everyone." He smiled, and turned around as Sniper let him go. "I promise."

Sniper sniffed, and took off his glasses, his eyes red. He pressed the back of his hand against his eyes, chuckling slightly. "Guess you think I'm a sap, right? I..." He looked up at the ceiling, and exhaled. "It still hurts, every damn time that I lose him. Even if it's not for long...I really don't know what I'd do without my lover."

Medic smiled. "It's nice to know you care about Spy." He glanced over at the doorway, and smiled at Heavy, and Sniper nodded, turning away.

Medic watched him leave before reopening his medikit, sighing at the blood. "Doktor, you vant help cleaning?"

Medic nodded wordlessly, before taking the stainless steel instruments out, dumping them into the sink. "Can you..." He paused as Heavy reached past him to fill a kettle of water. "Um..."

"Doktor, are you all right?"

Medic cleared his throat. "Fine...I'm fine." He prayed silently that his cheeks weren't bright red, and turned around, startled when he realised he was practically nose to nose with Heavy, who grinned.

"Doktor, you are warm." He reached out, and Medic flinched slightly as a giant hand was pressed against his forehead. "Perhaps you are ill?"

"I..." He swallowed thickly. "Heavy..."

Heavy burst into laughter, reaching down to hug Medic. "I only tease, Doktor. I know...you worked hard to help Spy." He let go, and went to retrieve the whistling kettle, as Medic tried to compose himself. "You do not normally operate on dining table, no?"

Medic turned to stare at the bloody instruments. "Nein...I don't." He reached out to turn on the tap, holding his hand under the water until it turned warm. "Zhe old Doctor..."

A groan came from Heavy. "He enjoyed...surgery. Experimenting. Not just on enemy. On us." Heavy poured the boiled water into a tray, watching as Medic cleaned each instrument before placing it in the tray. "I did not mind at first. But I do not like being used for experiments all the time."

Medic's hands stopped moving. "You-?"

"Da." Heavy rested a hand on Medic's shoulder. "What was life like with BLU?"

"...I..." Medic sagged. "Zheir Soldier leads. No one questions him. And vhatever he vants...he gets." He clenched his fists. "Even if vhat he vants is a person."

Heavy glanced down. "Doktor, open your hand."

"Vhat?"

The water was tinged red. Medic's hand opened, and he released the scalpel he had been clenching. "Scheisse." He bit down on his lip, and Heavy pulled him away from the sink, forcing him to sit at the desk. "It's okay, it's just a small scratch..."

Medic protested as Heavy retrieved some gauze, patting it into place over the cut, before wrapping a small length of bandage around it to keep the gauze in place, gently patting the back of his hand.

"Oh Scheisse...Vhat must you think of me...?" Medic pressed a hand against his forehead, his elbow resting on the desk. He sat in silence, the only noise his laboured breathing as he fought not to sob aloud.

Heavy let a hand brush over Medic's cheek, and smiled as the man raised his tear streaked face, gazing down at Heavy's mouth. "I am thinking...I wish I knew German to tell you will be all right." His smile widened as Medic laughed pathetically. "That I would do anything to help you."

Heavy straightened, and cheered mentally when Medic's eyes met his own. "Go rest, Doktor. I finish cleaning." He helped him down from the desk, and treated him to another hug. He waited patiently until Medic had vanished, before sighing, and heading back to the sink.