"Doktor, what is wrong? Heavy sees you are different lately."

Heavy was correct. The Medic's skin had been deathly white, his hairline receding, eyes constantly bloodshot. He wasn't sleeping, either. Every night, the other eight mercs heard him, frantically pacing the corridors, his heavy breathing echoing through the building.

"Heavy, I am...I am fine, I just need..." He trailed off, putting his hands on top of his head. "I just need zhis time to be alone for a while, okay?"

Heavy frowned, but complied regardless. "Okay, doktor. I know that job is hard. Doktor is always busy. Team always pressing E button to call you to them. I understand." Hanging his head, Heavy lumbered out of the room. The second he shut the door, he heard metal clanging and nervous muttering.

Heavy knew it would be best not to go back into the room right now, and marched into the common room, where he found the rest of his team.

"Team, I think doktor is going insane."

The Demoman was the first to let out a raucous laugh. "Medic, GOIN' insane, mate? 'ave ya even met the bloody loon!?"

Heavy retained his stony demeanor. "No, he is...worse. He is not right. Something is wrong with doktor."

The emotionless eyes of a gas mask looked to Heavy. "Mrh hrdhm mph mnrhm?" The mask cocked slightly to the right, disturbingly similar to a curious animal. "Mrphrnr, mrnr mph, mh?"

Heavy flinched a those eyes met him. Heavy had always felt that the world would be a better place had Pyro never existed. "Uh...no. Not like that."

The Pyro stood, causing Heavy to step back a few paces. It cocked its head again, a muffled laugh coming through the mask's filter. "Mrh hrdrhr, mph mph."

Heavy collected himself, looking around at everyone save the Pyro. "Team, something. is. wrong. You can stay here, and hide from problem, like tiny baby men that you are, but Heavy is not waiting." He felt the gas mask's gaze pierce him once more.

"Y'all wanna know what I think?" When the Engineer spoke, it didn't matter how soft-spoken and quiet the man was; everyone listened. "I think we should stay outta the doc's business. He's got the most important job on the field and we don' wanna make anything harder for the poor man than we already have. I think we oughta let 'im deal with...whatever this is, an' I'm sure it'll blow over in a week."

Before anyone could reply, a loud crash rang out from the Medic's operating theatre, his unmistakable crazed laughter booming throughout the otherwise silent RED base. For several seconds, the eight mercs looked at each other, mouths agape, before the Scout regained his composure and hopped off his couch.

"Maybe we should check dis out, guys." Everyone readied their weapons as Scout walked down the hall to the operating theatre, a horrid stench coming from within. "I reeeeally don' like da look a' dis..."

As slowly as he could, Scout pushed the door open, the rest of the team right behind him. Blood was common in the Medic's operating room, yes, but this was something else. A massive pool in the very center of the room, more blood leading all the way out to the window as though someone had been dragged out. Nearly everything was tipped over and broken, water was covering at least an inch of the floor, and both the Medigun and its owner were gone.

"DOKTOR, NO!"