Chapter Text
– Friday –
The Badlands, New Mexico. 1968. It was just another dry heat, scorching breeze, bloodthirsty and ready to turn someone’s brains-into-paste kind of day.
Once again, another battle was taking place between the RED and BLU team.
Heavy was hiding out behind an old worn shed, clutching his side as he heaved. He coughed and spat blood into the dirt. He wasn’t really thinking about those things though. Even in the middle of a battle, his mind had a tendency to wander.
How long had he been fighting in this war? 3 months? 4? It hadn’t been long, especially compared to the rest of his team, some of whom had been there for a year or more; but it already felt like an eternity to him. All this bloodshed over some dirt, land, and money; was it really even worth it? Heavy felt like the only one who really thought about those sorts of things when it came to the job. The other mercenaries probably didn’t even understand what they were fighting for. Or they did, and just didn’t care thanks to the money they were given in exchange for their lives. Money was tempting, and so were the benefits that came with working under Reliable Excavation & Demolition (or RED for short), so who could really blame them for taking that chance? Even if it meant risking their lives for nothing?
But Heavy had other things to fight for, especially now. And he wasn’t just fighting for his life. Everytime he stepped out onto the battlefield, spent late nights prepping weapons for the next fight, died and respawned to protect a teammate from a stray rocket, or had to deal with the other mercenaries poking fun at him for his broken English; it was all for his family and the hopes that he’d make just enough that month to send them some money to get by. He cared for his mother and three sisters more than anything else in the world, and he was proud of that fact.
His mind snapped back to reality, as he shakily stood up to find himself cornered. He knew it as soon as he turned around to see a BLU Pyro coming in behind him. He sighed wearily, knowing he had no ammunition or backup nearby, and was much too tired and weakened to try punching his way out of the situation. He was practically half dead in the dirt at that point. So, he succumbed to the inevitable.
He woke up and found himself back in the cold respawn room.
Unfortunately, respawn didn’t make dying any less painful. He doubted he’d ever get used to the strange sensation of being brought back from death. Just as he stood up again, having fallen onto the hard tile, he heard the overhead speakers announce;
“Alert! Our last control point is being captured!”
“Mission ends in 10 seconds!”
He closed his eyes, knowing that they had lost. He was the only one left defending the control point that hadn’t been blown to pieces, and he was definitely not on it anymore.
Heavy braced himself for what would be the rest of a very rough day. Losing was unacceptable, but hearing the groaning and whining of his teammates (which he would most certainly have to listen to that night) would be unbearable. And annoying.
“I can’t believe we just freakin’ lost! AGAIN!” Heavy turned to see a very frustrated Scout appear next to him, no doubt having died trying to secure the control point before it was too late. While Heavy was not fond of his younger teammate he couldn’t help but sympathize with his frustration.
“I mean, where da’ heck was our Medic at? I was freakin’ dyin’ over there, and where was he? NOWHERE that’s where! God, this is so freakin’ stupid…” Scout’s voice quieted to frustrated swears and mumbles as he sat on the ground, arms crossed and scowling.
“Little man. We will try harder tomorrow. We will win.”
“Oh yeah big guy? What makes ya’ think that’ll happen? Our damn Medic ain’t doin’ nothin’, and we all’r dyin’, an’ it’s the fifth time this week! There ain’t gonna be no tomorrow for us if we ain’t winnin’!”
Heavy knew there wasn’t much point in trying to cheer the younger merc up, so they sat in silence while their teammates joined them in the respawn, all equally irritated at the terrible match they had that day. Their Medic came in last.
He did not like the Medic they had. It had only been a week since he had been recruited and it was clear he wasn’t meant for battle. He always managed to run and hide during the worst of every match since the day he had arrived. No doubt he would be fired soon, with enough complaints, and they would have to yet again find another Medic to fill his position. It disappointed Heavy the most, since he relied on the Medic to make the big push for every battle they had and secure the win. He knew this strategy well, but every Medic they’ve had for the past 4 months apparently did not, even after being informed. They were all keen on the ‘running and hiding like a coward’ strategy.
As the RED team trudged back to base, night began to fall quietly on the desert. It was especially hot that day, and Heavy was grateful for the cool breezes the evening usually brought. He missed his cold Siberian home, with his family, more than anything.
The desert was such a strong contrast to the tundra and every day that passed the more homesick he found himself being. It didn’t help that he was surrounded by surprisingly idiotic mercenaries, whom he did his best not to lower his guard around.
Heavy’s business was his own, and thankfully none of the mercs had tried his patience by trying to ask foolish personal questions, and he was more than happy to return the favor by asking none himself.
As the team finally entered the common area of the base, Demo settled himself into an old worn down sofa with scrumpy in hand, already drinking and looking like he was 2 seconds away from taking a long hard nap.
Scout and Pyro went straight to the foosball table Scout had “found” in the town of Teufort, probably having stolen it. Despite how different him and Pyro were, they held a strange bond over tabletop games.
Engineer went straight to the little kitchen they had to begin preparing for dinner. He seemed like the only one with some good cooking knowledge, and the only one trusted with the stove and oven. He was also really the only one Heavy enjoyed talking to, even if it were brief moments of hi, hellos, and how are you’s.
Spy, of course, was nowhere to be found. Snooping and hiding were his two main attributes, and he definitely wanted to hide after a day like that.
Sniper decided to head straight to his own camper van, away from the noise. Specifically the noise being caused by Soldier, who was having a great time ordering Demo to drop and give him 20 despite not realizing that Demo was out cold.
Despite all the hustle and bustle, Heavy did have a strange slight fondness for the common area. 4 months in, he became used to the welcoming aura the place had to offer. In some ways he could even imagine himself back at home, remembering the cozy feeling of sitting with others and chatting about whatever came to mind. It wouldn’t ever be the same, but he felt like he could get used to being here.
The Medic hadn’t arrived yet.
“Hey partner, could ya’ come help me in the kitchen?” Heavy looked up, realizing that the Engineer was calling out to him.
“Yes. I will help.”
Getting up slowly from his seat, Heavy made his way over to the kitchen. Anything to distract himself from the horrible battle the team just went through.
“I just needed some help with the preparation, if ya’ don’t mind Heavy.”
“Da. Of course.”
The two men quietly set to work, having already established this routine. Heavy was grateful for the quiet, Engineer no doubt knowing that Heavy needed it. Before too long, dinner was ready.
Bringing out his old cowbell, Engineer rang it and called, “Dinner’s ready boys! Come an’ get it!”
Sudden noise broke out as the mercs made a mad dash to the kitchen, and Heavy found himself amused by the bickering that broke out that was spearheaded by Scout, who came in first, as always. The kitchen lit up with noise as Soldier began shouting orders at the others in an attempt to keep the line moving. Engineer had to keep Pyro from getting too close to the oven, a lesson learned from past incidents. Once everyone had managed to get food, they slowly made their way back to the lively common area.
“An’ then- an’ then, he told me, ‘Ach, where’s me bloody hand at?’ As if he had lost his wallet ar’ somethin’! Bloodiest funnae’ thing ah’ had seen all day!” Demo said, breaking out into booming, teary-eyed laughter at his own strange story having forgotten he had told the exact same one the day before. Scout and Soldier joined in, laughing hard as they clutched the table to keep from falling out of their seats.
“What’d he say next Demo?” Scout asks with tears in his eyes.
“I got no bloody clue! Cause next thing ah’ knew, me own hand got chopped off!”
More uproarious laughter ensued despite Demo still having both hands. Heavy shook his head, not understanding the Scot’s odd sense of humor. The story didn’t seem nearly as humorous to him as it was to the others. Engineer merely chuckled at the conversation as he ate, with Pyro watching the group avidly. Heavy looked around as the group continued their talk, noticing the Medic still hadn’t arrived. He decided to see what the man was up to.
After he finished his meal, he made his way to the infirmary. While Heavy wasn’t one to check on his teammates, knowing full well they could take care of themselves, he couldn’t help but be a bit curious.
*Knock knock knock*
“.. who is it?”
“Is me, Medic. Heavy Weapons guy?”
“Oh great. Actually, could you come in and help me out?”
Heavy pushes the door open to see the Medic clearly packing up. He was a short and very lean man, nervously running his hand through his blond hair. He was in a hurry, as most of his things were already in boxes and moving equipment.
“Leaving?”
“Er.. yes, I am. Administrator’s orders. She was… less than pleased with me regarding my performance, and just now told me my replacement is ready to come in, so I was just…” He indicated to the boxes all around him, ”I just needed some help getting these into the transport truck…”
“Da. Will help little man with moving.”
“Thank you, Heavy.”
And so they got to work.
– 2 hours pass –
“I suppose that was the last of it.” Medic says, setting the last of the boxes down in the large truck and wiping his brow with his hand.
“Da. Now you go, yes?”
“Yes. Hopefully onto a less… violent job.” Heavy nods in reply. This doctor before him was not fit for mercenary life, no matter how alluring the money was, and leaving was for the best. Heavy sincerely hoped that their next Medic would be more reliable.
“Oh! Heavy! There you are.” A familiar voice caught his attention, and he turned to see a young woman dressed in formal purple clothing exiting the truck and jogging up to him, clipboard in hand.
“Hello, Miss Pauling. All is well?”
“Could be better, Heavy. I’m just glad me and the Administrator were able to find a new replacement so fast, it’s just been so hectic lately, with all the recent losses…” She took a deep breath. “But it’s fine. I’ve worked it out, and first thing tomorrow the new Medic should be here. I just wanted to let you know in advance.”
Heavy nodded solemnly. He was notified of every new Medic, so he could work out the battle plan with them first thing. Heavy had an important part to play with the whole process and at this point it was practically routine to him.
“That should be it... Oh! One more thing Heavy.” Miss Pauling flipped through the papers on her clipboard. “There is something you need to know about the new Medic. He’s a bit different from the last few ones, as you’ll find out soon. He made some… special requests, and I was wondering if maybe you could help him out tomorrow? With moving his “things?”” She said in a very mysterious tone.
He arched an eyebrow at her wondering what she meant, and as he was about to ask he noticed the truck with the now retired Medic leaving the base, interrupting him before the question could escape him. Not picking up on his confusion, Miss Pauling muttered to herself as she flipped through more papers, walking off and ending the conversation.
He thinks to himself that maybe it would be better not to ask.
– Saturday –
Waking up was always a bit of a challenge, and today was no exception. Groaning, Heavy gathered himself and climbed out of bed to prepare for the day. Hopefully this time he would be up before his teammates, specifically Scout, so he wouldn’t have to deal with any unwanted conversations. As he made his way down the small flight of stairs leading from his room to the main area, he suddenly remembered that the new Medic would be arriving that day, and according to what Miss Pauling had told him, it would be fairly early. Changing course, he made his way to the infirmary to see if he had missed the new arrival, and to his luck it appeared that he hadn’t arrived yet. Continuing up the stairs, he opened the doors and entered the large, cold room.
“What should I do in spare time…” Heavy pondered to himself. He noticed the messes left behind by the previous Medic, who had left in a hurry. The man didn’t have much time to clean up; he seemed pretty desperate to get out of there. But who could blame him, really? This isn’t a place for any normal man.
However, something told Heavy that he would not be meeting a normal man. As he cleaned the infirmary, he knew this deep down. Miss Pauling did make it a point that this new Medic was stranger than most, with the way she told Heavy about his special requests; whatever those were. It wasn’t out of character for her to withhold information, but something about it made Heavy wonder who this new mysterious arrival was, and what he would be like.
Little did he know, his questions would soon be answered.
“...ja, ja I know Miss Pauling, I am avare of ze rules… Und no, I von’t cut open anyone for organs! As long as you gife me enough cadavers und replacements…”
He perked up at this new voice. It was definitely a European accent, possibly German. Was this the new Medic?
“Medic, please, just follow the rules and you’ll be granted whatever you want, I’ve already told you, but you need to work with and help your teammates, not cut them open!” Another, more familiar voice was arguing with the other. It was clear that she had been telling him all this more than once by the exasperated tone in her voice.
“Ach, you are no fun Miss Pauling. I vill need to cut some of zhem open, it is necessary for mein work! If you vant zhem to be stronger zhen you must respect mein practices und vhat I am capable of!”
The doors to the infirmary opened, showing a very tired looking and unsettled Miss Pauling. Following after was the new Medic, a taller man with graying hair, small, circular wire frames sitting on his angled face. He had already donned the white doctor’s coat and red cross emblem.
“Oh Heavy! Wonderful, you two can get acquainted…” She set down a box filled with some deadly looking tools on the ground, stood up and had an air of very much wanting to leave. Picking up on her exasperation, he decided to help her out, “I take over Miss Pauling.” Heavy said. Gratefully, Miss Pauling gave him a weak smile and left with a sigh.
As the Medic watched her leave, he turned quickly to see Heavy standing there, who was a bit surprised by Miss Pauling’s sudden departure. “She did not wish to speak more?” Heavy inquired.
“Nein. I suppose cadaver talk is not for everyone!” A deadly smile crossed the doctor’s face. “And you are?”
Heavy started to help unpack what few boxes were brought in. “I am Heavy Weapons Specialist. Can just call Heavy.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Herr Heavy. Not everyday I meet anozer fellow European, ja?” He extended one of his gloved hands out, offering a handshake, which Heavy took.
“Da. Is true, nice to have someone different.” Heavy stated simply. He continued with the boxes. “Festhalten, Heavy. More zhings outside that I need help carrying!” Medic turned swiftly, and waved Heavy over. He then proceeded to speak quickly under his breath in an excited manner, too fast and quiet for Heavy to pick up. Among the mounds of boxes, was a very large bird cage.
“What is this doktor?”
A huge, warm smile breaks across Medic’s face, replacing the rather menacing cold one from earlier. “Zhey are mein doves! I vanted to get zhem inside before anyzhing, but zhat Miss Pauling vanted to show me to ze infirmary first. Zhey hafe been in zat cage for far too long, poor lieblinge…” The doctor then picks up and gingerly carries the cage back to the infirmary with him with Heavy in tow, carrying several large boxes.
Upon entering the infirmary, Medic opened the cage and a cascade of birds flew from it, more than Heavy had anticipated. “Ah, you all must hafe been so cramped in zhere…” Medic said gently to his birds, who crowded around him, landing on his shoulders and head. He seemed much nicer now than he did earlier especially when contrasted with the very bizarre conversation Heavy had overheard. As birds begin to settle across the infirmary, he set down the boxes and tools he had been carrying with him on a nearby counter.
“You seem very strong, Heavy. ” Medic says out of the blue.
Heavy nods appreciatively, wondering where this conversation is going to go.
“An excellent specimen really…perhaps I could run some experiments, ja?”
“What kind of tests doktor? I am unsure.” Heavy was used to the occasional check-up, but he guessed that this sort of test wasn’t going to be as conventional.
“Ach, just some regulär ones. Nozing to worry about.” The doctor said with a wave of his hand. As he rummaged through some of the boxes, he retrieved a very menacing bonesaw from one of them.
Heavy wasn’t often afraid, but this odd man made him feel a bit uneasy. It almost sounded like a threat, although it was hard to tell with his strange and constantly shifting demeanor. Medic set down what he had in his hands and turned to him, “Vell? Zhey really are simple tests! I need to do zhis with ze rest of ze team, und I really must be getting started. So much to do, so little time!” He didn’t appear very put-off by this fact, though. In fact, it seemed like a challenge to him.
“Coo!” A small white dove flew down from the rafters of the infirmary and landed gently on Heavy’s shoulder, looking at him with keen eyes. “Archimedes! Zhere you are!” The doctor strode over to retrieve the small bird, which flew to him and landed on his own shoulder. “He doesn’t often go to strangers…” He added curiously.
A moment of silence, then Heavy asked, “How did you get birds?”
Medic looked at him for a moment with slight surprise at the question which quickly turned into enthusiasm, “Vell, I suppose I can tell you. But it is a long story!” Hearing this, Heavy brought up a nearby chair to listen to the strange doctor tell his tale.
“You see, it vas many years ago. I vas still a doctor zhen,” Still? “But I had alvays had a softer spot for mein feathered friends. I vas attending a rather schick wedding, very fancy ja? I vas ze groom’s doctor, and he decided to invite me. I noticed zhey had a catering wagen, wiz ze birds inside prepared for ze wife und groom. However, I nefer trust zhese zhings. Zhey never treat ze birds right, I hafe seen it. So, I hotwired ze wagen, birds in tow, and waz chased for 20 miles at least!” He then broke out into giddy laughter, recounting the day with glee. Heavy couldn’t help but join in, laughing along.
Wiping tears from his eyes, Medic turned to Archimedes who still sat on his shoulder. He gave the bird a small scratch under the beak and sighed, “Ja, zhey hafe been ze light of mein life. Ve hafe all been through much togezer, especially mein Archimedes here.” The dove cooed in response.
“You have odd life doktor. Make for good stories.”
“I hafe many more vhere zhat came from I promise you!”
Translations:
Russian:
Da - Yes
German:
Ja - Yes
Mein - Mine
Wagen - Van
Lieblinge - Darlings
Schick - Elegant, posh
Und - And
Herr - Mr