Authors note: Alright. This was just something I was thinking of for fun. It was sitting around on my laptop, so I thought, eh . . . why not? I was going to make it a one shot. I will most likely keep it a one shot, if it does not get popular. I think that I put some time into it for sure. It is my first TF2 story, so YAY! I never thought my first TF2 story would be about scout, and I most certainly never thought it would be about the medic. I am happy with how it came out though. I think that this will be quite an interesting scandal in the RED team. Let's find out who did it. It's like the team fortress version of CLUE! Who'd done it! It will be rated T for now, so no sex. Sorry! I don't know if I'll make the RED medic and the BLU scout have a relationship or not. It's hard to say. Anyway. Have a nice read, and if you want to know who'd done it, give me a ollar and I will write on. Read and review please! Thank you!
The RED medic stared out at the mess. It was so silent. Not a voice. The snow fell onto the battlefield silently. The flakes were fat and bountiful. It was like God was powdering sugar onto the battlefield of coldfront. The whole area was like hell on Earth. How could the beautiful snow fall gracefully on such a horrid place. The snow that fell was pure and clean when it was coming down, but if you lowered your eyes a bit lower, when it was on the ground it was a mixture of pink, red, and white.
There were bodies scattered about. He felt almost nauseated everytime he stared at it. The only sounds that were heard were the sounds of his feet as they walked through the snow crunching it down, and leaving his footprints in it. Much of whatever didn't crunch down, was basically already walked in. Most of the bodies were those of the enemy team. He took notice of every body he came across. One of them was a heavy that had a bullet in his head in many places. Another was a sniper that must have been taken out quickly, because his rifle was still held up to his eye as he laid there on the ground motionless, leaking blood into the snow, melting it with what was left of their body heat. Another one was a scout who was laying there with his squirrely face in utter surprise. The doctor could only guess what he had seen to cause such shock. The RED medic had yet to find a body that was from a RED. It was probably because they had a superior number, and overwhelmed their enemies.
He had trouble walked through the snow, as it crunch underneath him. Pretty soon, it was just plain slickened sleet. He really didn't want to fall, because he knew falling face first into somebody's blood would be disgusting. Even worse would be falling on top of a corpse. As he was looking for any RED survivors, he came across a young BLU team member. It was not a he but a she! It was a young girl! Probably in her early twenties. He could tell right away, that this young lady was a scout. She had that sort of uniform, and that sort of of body shape that would fit a scout. Lithe limbs, and skinny body, just like a scout would have. Her face was what stuck out for him. He could hardly stand how innocent she looked. Her hair was the color of jet black like it could not be any darker. Her eyes were closed, but her eye lids were wide, and large, so he guessed that her eyes were very large, and expressive. Her skin was the color of light copper. She was obviously a native American. He looked at the dog tags around her neck, and sure enough, it said [Race:Cherokee Native American.] Her face was not twisted nor in shock. She just looked peacefull the way bodies were supposed to look. He thought she was like a little angel.
She was leaned up against a tree as if she was relaxing under it on a summer day. She had blood on her face, and in her hair, which was pretty hard to tell if you weren't close enough. Her clothes were literally soaked in blood. With as much as there was, the medic must have guessed that it must have been both hers, and somebody else's. He looked down to see her right hand was rested on the back of a BLU medic's chest. He was chest down, his head rested on his left cheek. He followed his BLU counterpart's gloved hand to see it was resting in her waist. Her own hand resting on his. The hands were both blood soaked. He removed both of the corpse's bloody hands, and saw that the young lady had recieved about three bullet holes to the side of her waist. He assumed that the BLU doctor was holding his hand there to stop the bleeding. He clutched her dog tags, and glanced at them reading her info. Perhaps it was because she was the only female he had seen on the battlefield thus far. Or perhaps it was the way she was postioned ever so peacefully. Whatever the reason was, he read them quickly.
Her name was apparently Grace Miller. The name Grace sort of fit pretty well for a scout. The medic would have guessed she was a bit gracefull when she was alive. She had that sort of essence. She had the long lanky limbs, that usual scouts had. He looked at her social secrurity number, and remembered it for future references. Who knew? Maybe someday he would meet her family, and he would be able to say he saw her. She had her religeon etched on the tag. This was something the younger fighters were doing often. So, Roman Catholic huh? He respected the fact that she had faith. Most of the people that entered war were often effected on when it came to their religeon. It either got stronger with the time they were in it, or they often just dropped it in all. This girl apparently did not drop it. He put the dog tags in his pocket. For whatever reason, he had to remember this girl. She was just too far imprinted into his mind.
When he looked back at her waist, something he had not expected happened right before his eyes. Blood came oozing out of her waist at an alarming rate! Shockingly this proved that the young lady had in fact been alive. She might have been holding onto life, but only barely. He held his hand over his mouth in shock. Staring into the young girls eyes, he saw her open them shakily as if to open her eyes proved difficult, lift her head slowly, and stare up at him in a lazy manner, then her head fell limp once again, her eyes failing to properly open. It was truely enough to make you tremble. It was like a zombie hand momentarily stared you in the face. Feeling like a million lives laid in his hands, he had to make a decidion. Either he was going to let this woman lay here, and bleed to death all alone, or he was going to make a crazy stupid decision on his teams part, with a noble, morally correct decision on his medical part, and save her. He was to decide on her living or dying. Knowing that his team would most likely report him, he knew exactly what to do.
Sighing heavily he crouched down to the young lady. "Ich bedauere dies alles!" He muttered under his breath. He tore off a piece of the BLU medic's coat, and tied it firmly around the young girl's wound. The female BLU gave out an unconsious grunt, when he pulled on it, to tighten it. He molded his arms around her body as he picked her up bridal style, cushioning her head against his chest. She was loosing blood slowly and painfully, so if this was truely her second chance, he had to be swift, and unnoticed. He made his way through the battlefield of coldfront, making sure to stay clear of the corpses, so he didn't trip causing him to drop her. He made his way slowly to his base, looking down at her, he saw that she was going pale. "Wenn Sie leben, schuldest du mir gro e Zeit!" He said, angry at her for driving him to do the crazy act. Why was he doing this anyway? It was a complete puzzlement on his part. He had no clue why he wanted to do this. Perhaps it was because she looked so pathetic, laying there on the battlefield, all vulnerable, and helpless. Or perhaps it was because she was a holy girl. Maybe it was because he felt sick in the head to kill such a strong faithed person. Perhaps it was because he valued the essence of human life. He knew in reality he should be killing this young lady. God knew how many people she had killed on the battlefield. He knew she probably had left people the way she was left here. The medic had probably even treated a teammate for injuries that she had caused herself. Still, though that may be the case, he was being eccentric for now, and not so predictable, so he would ponder that later.
He managed to sneak her past his team without much trouble. As he made his way through the gateway, he looked in the main room, and saw that his teammates were shooting pool. That spelt much less trouble for him. The clattering of the billiard balls rang throughout the hallways, as the soldier chuckled to the others. For a split second he started pondering who it was in that very room that was enough of a crazy lunatic to actually shoot this young lady. He doubted that she was young enough to be one of their daughters, but it was real close. He of course was nowhere near old enough to be her father, Perhaps older brother at eldest, but for one of them it was almost close enough. Perhaps spy or the engineer, but that thought would have to wait. He carried her quickly into his medical ward. He only knew of her ONE gun shot wound. If she was loosing blood as swiftly as she was, there was bound to be more. Quickly he laid her down on the examination table, and slammed both doors shut. He grabbed a giant saw and stabbed the two doors right between them. Now not only were they locked, but also jammed from the inside. Finally he grabbed two pieces of tissue paper, and taped them over the door's windows. He would worry about thinking of an excuse later, but for now he had to work fast.
Turning on the surgical light overhead, he got everything ready. The sedatives, the scalpels, the gloves, the I.V., and the blood transfusions. An oxygenation reader was clipped onto her finger, and he got an oxygen mask over her face. He got O-negative for a universal donor. There was no time to check for her blood type, and he was running out of time. All of a sudden he remembered her tags. He yanked them out of his pocket, and checked them. They had to have her blood type somewhere. At last he found it on the first one. A. B. negative. He rushed over to the blood supply and snatched one right out, and hooked it up. He got the wiring all set up. With a few squeezes of tubes, and a flick of a needle, he got her hooked up to as many tubes as he could. She had all the tubes in her within minutes. Now he was ready to start. He took a sharp pair of scizors, and tore open her robin's egg shirt to get a good look at what he was working with.
Her skin tone looked horrible. It was turning a grayish color from the cold. Not so much as to cause any frost bite, but not very healthy either. He had to raise her body temperature and fast. Good thing the room was well heated. He made sure the room would warm her up as best it could. The reading on the thermostat in the room read eighty degrees fahrenheit. At least she wouldn't get any colder. That was a safe tempurature for her. He stared at her body as it was blood soaked, and spotted with bullet holes. It must have been a buckshot or something of the sort. Nothing like this was meant to kill a human being, at least not humanely. Somebody brought an unauthorized gun to 2 fort, and used it on this young lady. His anger was bubbling over, but he would have to calm down, if he was to heal this young girl. He turned on the x ray, and x rayed her quickly. It was the fastest way to know where each of the bullets were in her. The hard part of it would be pulling them all out. He had looked at the x ray, and the little white dots were everywhere. He counted fourteen in all, and they were all scattered about her body. The medic knew that if he was to prevent scarring, and have her heal properly he would need to use his medigun.
Pulling the bullets out was the first part to be done. The tweezers were sterilized, and sunk deeply into the wounds. A few of them were in really deep. Especially the ones in the middle of her body. Thankfully none of them were angeled. If they were angeled then he would have to remove them by surgically cutting them out. The smell of her blood invaded his nostrils, and he had to admit, it only made him work faster. Thankfully she was still breathing. He saw the little fog covering the masks inside as she took a warm breath. He watched as the thermometer readings, went up to her noromal temperature. One by one they were coming out and he put them in the little dish. He wanted to keep them with him, as to find out who had done this to her. The pulling out was horrible. Every time one came out, there was another that needed to be plucked. The time it took was longer than he thought. He would only imagine the terror and pain this girl would go through had she woken up now. Thankfully the sedatives were doing their job and kept her asleep.
In no time, all the bullets were out, and she was much better. Still she had lost alot of blood, and was still loosing a bit from the wounds, so he finally finished her up, with the hanging medigun. Pulling it down, from the cieling's hold on it, it was aimed at the non moving body and turned on in no time. Her holed in her chest and stomach, and everywhere in between were closing up and healing. Finally she was healed. Still he needed to keep giving her blood through transfusions. All the german doctor could do now was wait, and see if she would pull through. He wiped her torso clean of the blood with a sponge. When he took the sponge across her body he had moved onto her face, and saoked the blood off of her face carefully. When he was done, she looked much better. He quickly grabbed the blu garment, and threw it away in a biohazard trash can. He then grabbed a hospital gown, and covered her with it. He wouldn't let the girl look indescent in his area. He might have been the enemy, but he was a gentleman, and would give her respect.
As he was looking at her waiting for her to wake up, he lightly stroked the Cherokee girls black raven hair. She was the enemy. Part of the team he was told to kill. He was to kill as soon as look at her, yet he didn't. He could do it in a hundred ways. he could slit her throat right now, or poison her, byt lethal inject, but he didn't. He respected her, and gave her a second chance for life. The first thought was how painfull it must have been to be shot with buckshot. The pain of a dozen sharp little balls being shot through your torso with such agony, and not expect it coming He did something that was unexpected, then. He spoke to the girl. "Grace, you are ze luckiest girl in ze world. If you can hear me. I vill tell you now, zhat I care about you, and I vill find out who did zhis if it's zhe ast zhing I do."