AUTHORS NOTE: So this is a little oneshot I did for Medic in my free block. I hope it's not too horrid. Yes, this will be sad, so please contain your feels until the end.
Thank you for reading!
-Aerista
Silence. All there was in there was silence. But then there was a bright white light, small, but still clearly visible in the darkness. He walks forward, all the pain slowly falling off of him. He was alone in the dark, no way of telling where he was, or where he was going. But wherever he was, it was getting smaller, cramped, and more confined. Something bumped him from behind, but when he turned, there was just darkness. Even when he put a hand out, there was space for what seemed like miles back. He turned back around and kept moving forward towards the light. Then the light started moving away again. He sped up, and then the light kept dimming. Soon he left himself no choice but to run after the little glimpse of hope, but before he could react, it was gone. Faded away along with hope out of wherever he was.
He sat on the floor, or what he hoped was a floor and kept looking where the light was, hoping maybe the longer he looked, the more of a chance it would come back. But he gave himself false hope. He knew it wouldn't return and he would stay lost. Salt tears filled his eyes and streamed down his chiseled face. He wasn't crying, but the tears forced themselves out anyway. He was alone. For the first time in a very long time, he was alone.
But then, something gave him hope. Hope that he wouldn't be stuck alone forever. A small, feathery tap on his shoulder. He turned quickly, seeing a small boy. The child had stunning blue eyes and brown messy hair, covered by a grey newsboy hat. His tiny, frail body was clothed with a tan sweater vest and stained blue jeans. The tiny face was so scared, so afraid looking, that it made his father cry a little. "Daddy," whimpered the child. "Daddy where are you? When are you coming home daddy? I love you daddy." Medic stumbled a little at the sight of his boy, his son he lost in a bomb raid. "H…Hugo? Bist du das?" But the boy did not respond. He kept repeating himself. "Daddy….daddy…where did you go daddy…?"
The Medic reached out for his son, a solemn look spreading across his face. When the hand touched the body, it passed right through it. His voice dropped into a whisper. "No…No. No. No. NO NO NO NO NEIN NEIN NEIN!" Streams of tears flowed down his chiseled face. "Don't leave me again, mein sohn. Bitte..." He reached for his son again, but once his hand touched the ghostly entity again, it was gone. Collapsing to the floor, he held himself in the eternal darkness, listening to himself slowly and slowly get quieter. Soon everything was dark. And everything was silent.
A pounding sensation woke the Medic from his nightmare. On the floor of the chilled respawn room, his fellow Heavy stood, watching over his shaking doctor. "Doktor? You okay?" the worried, large man questioned. The Medic, realizing where he was, got to his feet. "Ja, I am fine. I vill be out in a moment…" he said, sitting on a bench inside the respawn. Giving his teammate a weary look, he nodded, heading back out into the battlefield. Once he knew he was along, the doctor took off his rubber gloves, and pulled out a sheet of paper out from his bulky coat. Unfolding it, he read it over again, like he has done so many times since he received it two days ago.
Herr Fritz,
Wir bedauern, Ihnen mitzuteilen, dass, während Sie im Dienst waren, dein Sohn, Hugo, von einer Bombardierung Berlins durch die Royal Air Force am Februar 15 bis 16. Februar getötet wurde. Wir entschuldigen uns für Ihren Verlust zu entschuldigen. Es wird ein Service für die in der Bombardierung nach Ihrer Rückkehr verloren gehalten werden.
Mit freundlichen Grüßen,
NSDAP
Herr Fritz,
We are sorry to inform you that while you were on duty, your son, Hugo, was killed by a bombing of Berlin by the Royal Air Force on Feb. 15 through Feb. 16. We apologize for your loss. There will be a service held for those lost in the bombing upon your return.
Sincerely,
NSDAP
He crumpled up the paper after reading it over and over again, throwing it against the wall on the other side of the room. "It's not fair…" he mumbled to himself. Outside, screams for him were coming from all around, including some he heard from the other team, which didn't matter to him. Clearing his mind, he stood back up, equipping his medigun, going off to find some of his teammates in need of help. But in the end, it didn't matter. They would come back with respawn. Not his son. He couldn't save him. And he was never coming back.
Just a little thing at the end here. Thanks for reading. And to explain the letter, he only got it two days ago because the Administrator doesn't like the mercs to keep in contact with the outside world, therefore he only got the letter now because Spy was able to get a hold of it.
Thanks for reading!
