Title: Only Time Will Tell
Rating: T – M for profanity, violence, gore, innuendo, references, and basic shenanigans.
Characters/Pairings: Medic-centric, Heavy insight, some slashy undertones (may increase to actual tones later, I'll let you know), and what could be considered an OC.
Disclaimer: Team Fortress 2 belongs to Valve and is not mine. If it was, I would totally have a Level 1 Sentry model in my room somewhere by now. (or a pocket medic in my toy collection.)
Notes: An idea that had been on my mind for a while now. It started with a younger Medic, then sketches, then a quick Photoshop – then this. (Also, those of you who have gotten past the "Characters/Pairings" part and have not already moved their cursors to the Back button, congratulations! Have a sandvich while you read!)
A few things: RED Medic's "Meet the Medic" voice (which is slightly deeper, smoother, and morbidly casual than his regular in-game voice) is how I imagine him speaking. Also, I would have another tab open with Google Translate while you read this.
Reviews, criticism, comments, sharing, and feedback are always appreciated as well. Thanks! :)
Chapter 1
Mein Gesicht?
Battle was always, in any stationed base, refreshing and slightly concerning every time the other team would get drafted to another area, because it meant another division of said company's team would be occupying their previous station. So when the representatives at Builder's League United of 2Fort were sent off somewhere else to fight, only to be replaced by a new set, naturally there was general unrest and uneasy discussion between the mercenaries of the Reliable Demolition and Excavation also currently stationed within that area.
Unfortunately, the last set of representatives have been nothing short of easy to dispose of and were not worth much attention (they had no Medics and four Snipers, FOUR OF THEM), so it came as huge surprise once the RED Spy had uncloaked back with his teammates a mere five minutes before the mission would begin, panting and explaining abruptly that there had been a drafting of a new team. (How they did not notice it beforehand was beyond him, though it may have had something to do with a party two days ago involving plenty of alcohol and the poorly made mistake that was Pin-the-Tail-on-Pyro. Yesterday was Sunday too, which was ceasefire and Detox Day.) This did not fly well with any of his fellow teammates – particularly Soldier, who did not hesitate on berating Spy with so many colourful, ultra-nationalist insults that his voice started to crack and he began to cough. (It was a glimpse of hope for everyone, since that would mean Soldier would be closer to being unable to speak; unfortunately, it would have to be looked at more gratefully once the round would end and there was still the very boisterous and ignorant Scout to deal with.)
As soon as another minute was wasted in chaotic panic (which had ceased after a very hung-over Demoman, who did not use Detox Day to his advantage, had threatened viciously to drop grenades once the mission began as mutinous penalty), Engineer had pulled out a map, and Soldier was pointing at spots on it furiously as he barked out a raspy Plan B, while everyone gathered around it and watched intently (while craning their ears when his voice would crack at parts). With that earlier lost minute earned back and everyone dividing to station themselves in their new positions, the Spy had paused, as though debating on something life-changing, before he tapped the passing Medic on the shoulder. "Oh, yes, docteur," the Spy said, looking nonchalant. "Their Medic was just drafted 'ere last month, and 'is reviews 'ave been none too flattering."
Medic had given a nod, though his expression clearly told the Spy that he didn't think much of it. "Zank you, Herr Spy, but vhy must I concern myself about ze ozher doctor zhat you have to mention it to me?" he had responded rather confidently, aiming his Medigun at Heavy as he loaded the Ubercharge.
The smirk that curved the Spy's lips upward during that moment had made Medic turn uneasy. "Seul l'avenir nous le dira," Spy had simply murmured, before he faded away from his vision.
It wasn't until Heavy and Medic had pushed through the bridge against a pesky and persistent BLU Puro that Medic would figure out the gist of what Spy had said. The Medic groaned audibly and kicked aside the gas-masked corpse's head into the water, flicking blood off his Bonesaw with a scowl. He glanced disapprovingly at the scorched tails of his coat momentarily. "Zhis is getting just mildly irritating," Medic muttered, before turning back around to see what Heavy was staring at.
As though luck was not done torturing them enough, there before them was the BLU Team's Heavy standing on a wooden ledge, a bloodthirsty grin on his face and his Minigun aimed right at the duo. "'Mildly', Doktor?" RED Heavy deadpanned, raising Sascha as well as he prepared to fight head-on with his counterpart.
The tension was broken as gunshots were fired from behind them, and the BLU Heavy screamed, tumbling off the ledge and falling on the ground with a shaking thud. Medic and Heavy turned their heads to see their RED Scout skid to a halt near them. "YEAH! That's what happens when you two don't start freakin' payin' attention to your surroundings!" the Scout boasted to his two teammates, spinning this Force-A-Nature around his fingers. "Gotta stay on your game!"
The victory was short-lived as a syringe suddenly found its way into Scout's neck, and he toppled over with a shriek. Ignoring the irony, Medic and Heavy quickly spun back around just in time to see a BLU Medic wearing a Blighted Beak over his face leap off the roof, Syringe Gun in one hand and Bonesaw in the other. Heavy was about to fire his gun, but not before two to three syringes embedded themselves into each of his hands, causing him to drop Sascha and recoil back in pain.
Before the BLU Medic could stab the Bonesaw through the vulnerable Heavy, a cry of "Horrido!" rang clear through the air, and the RED Medic practically soared over his weakened teammate as he tackled the BLU Medic to the bridge. Bonesaw clashed with Bonesaw as each of them wrestled to get at each others' necks, pressing the sharp blades forward. "Give up while you still have ze chance," RED Medic hissed with a malevolent smile at his enemy counterpart, pinning him down. He gave a cackle. "Live life a little longer...vell, it von't last very long anyway vonce I dice up zhis frail body of yours, Krankenschwester!"
This managed to rouse the other Medic's anger pretty well. "Verpiss dich, sie SCHWANZLUTSCHER!" the BLU Medic snarled, and managed to twist his hand just enough to shoot a syringe into the RED Medic's side.
This did not prove as effective as he thought it would, though, as the RED Medic barely winced. He began pushing harder against the other Medic's Bonesaw while he laughed like a madman. "Perhaps ve should start by sawing off zhat filzhy mouth of yours," he retorted with a sneer, and with that delivered a hefty punch towards the other Medic's head, throwing the Blighted Beak off it.
It was then that the RED Medic gave a sudden gasp, his eyes popping open. All instances of malice disappeared as he stared at the face below him – a much younger Medic, his brown hair dark and his face clean of wrinkles or stubble, but his eyes as icy blue as his own.
This face – why was it so familiar? He'd seen this face many times before.
Impossible, no, how could this be possible if at all? It was...
"Mein gesicht...?" the RED Medic whispered.
The BLU Medic's eyes widened in that instant as well, and horror spread across the younger man's features. He kicked off his older RED rival, immediately crawling away from him, just as the RED Heavy yanked out the last syringe, glaring fiercely towards the BLU Medic with an exclamation of rage. "I am going to KILL OTHER DOKTOR!" he bellowed, reaching for his Minigun. "Nobody makes me drop Sascha, NOBODY!"
The BLU Medic bared his teeth back at the Heavy menacingly, but not before a hand suddenly reached up to grab his arm. The younger Medic turned around to see his team's Heavy, breath ragged and eyelids fluttering from his crippling injury. "Doktor, help me, please," the BLU Heavy begged. He seethed. "I crush leetle men for you..."
The hand was shaken off in a rather unwelcoming manner as the BLU Medic reclaimed his Bonesaw and Syringe Gun, bolting back up on his feet. "Vhat makes you zhink I need your help, schweinehund?" the Medic growled without another glance at the BLU Heavy. He spat out blood as he fired a few more syringes towards their RED counterparts, before he sprinted away as bullets scattered where he was, finishing off his teammate.
RED Heavy paused to glance down at the large BLU body, smirking at the man's unfortunate death. "Oh, look! Baby BLU man's shirt turning red with blood," the equally as large Russian man boomed. "What does team say back at base? Oh, better red than dead!" The Heavy laughed heartily and continued running forward, before he realized the warmth of the Medigun had ceased. He turned back around to see the Medic lost in thought as he looked down at the BLU Heavy's corpse. "Doktor, is not time to collect body parts," Heavy said, jogging back towards the German. "We get them later – "
"Ze BLU Medic," Medic interjected, his face still painted with shock and disbelief as he looked away from the enemy Heavy's corpse. "Heavy, ze BLU Medic..."
"Is as Spy said," Heavy said, placing his hand on the Medic's shoulder. He gave a disapproving grunt. "Is not good doktor, is stupid! Leave also stupid man here to die like baby he really is. But we must go, we cannot slow down!"
He was startled when the gloved hands of Medic suddenly reached to grab his hand, and at that moment, Heavy became more nervous than he should have been as he looked back at the doctor. He had never seen Medic so off-point, so shaken and erratic. Something was greatly troubling this man of science and composure. It wasn't usual; it wasn't right. "Doktor, what is wrong?" Heavy demanded. His eyes narrowed. "Did bad doktor do something?"
"Heavy," Medic breathed. "He...he vas me."
"...what?"
"Me. He vas me."
This only caused Heavy to become riddled further into confusion. The other team's equivalents often bore many resemblances to their own team's members – surely Medic knew this. Why would he be stating the obvious now – God, especially now when they had to keep pushing forward against the BLU Team? "Doktor – " Heavy started again, becoming tested by this man's lack of focus.
The grasp on his hand suddenly tightened uncomfortably. "Heavy, he looked exactly like me," Medic uttered, staring at him with disturbing seriousness. "Exactly vhen I vas young – "
He was not able to say anymore before their bodies both exploded as the BLU Soldier ran past his rocket's smoke and their red-spewing giblets, wailing about America's continued glory in the role of war.