Angst, here I come, yay! But this is really serious as well. Also, this is the perspective of the RED team, not because I prefer them (I'm all for BLU!), but because they're technically the main team.
WARNINGS: Angst, Character death, OOC, sensitive topics, possible MedicxSpy depending on how you look at it… You know. All the good stuff. If you disagree with these, press 'back' NOW.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Team Fortress 2 or its characters, it belongs to Valve. Well, you know the drill.
Should Have Known
I should have known.
The Medic sat on the edge of his bed, his head cradled in his gloved hands. He'd been here for about a week, not leaving his room for anything except to feed his pet doves.
The others don't really care. They think he's just a madman with an obsession for Schadenfreude, his only interest stemming from the suffering of others. They've always hated him to some extent; they just didn't want to admit it.
He had failed. He could have done it, but fate was a cruel demon, ripping any hope out of the man's hands. It should have been easy. It should have been possible.
I should have known
The German doctor's grey-blue eyes glanced to his right, the clock on his bedside table declaring that it was five to midnight. Medic's hands trailed through his greying hair, a pitiful sigh leaving his thin lips. He couldn't even bear to look at his own reflection, but he knew that he would have looked terrible.
The Medic stood up and walked over to his desk, pulling open a drawer and looked around. The man frowned as he realized that what he was looking for wasn't in there.
I should have known.
His thoughts dragged themselves unwillingly toward that day.
Their Spy…
Léon Mauger…
The man, the friend, he couldn't save…
I should have noticed.
Their fellow Spy had always been good at lying, so when everyone noticed that he was getting out of breath, he only smirked and said 'I'm just getting old, that's all.'
Yeah, as if being forty-two years old counts as old.
But it degraded from there, since he often excused himself from the room and his harsh coughing would resonate through the halls. But whenever someone asked what was wrong, Spy would always shake his head and say that he was fine.
Liar.
Medic remembered walking through the dark halls of the RED base and hearing an argument taking place behind a door that led to the Spy's room.
"I still think you need to see the Medic." The Engineer's Texan accent was gentle yet firm.
"I told you, there's nothing wrong!" Spy's French accent however, was laced to the brim with annoyance.
"Even I can tell that something serious is going down. But you're flat out denying it! Whatever's wrong could kill you!"
"Ha! Since when have you cared, William?"
The argument resumed, Engineer trying to keep his cool. The Medic didn't want to hear anymore, so he quickly ran off, hoping they didn't notice him. As he darted back to his room, the German started to ponder all of the symptoms that the Spy was displaying.
He put it down to a simple case of a respiratory problem.
Nothing more.
I should have known
It all came to its peak the next day, with RED and BLU fighting in their war. Medic was keeping behind their Heavy Mikhail, healing the large Russian man every so often. His stormy eyes glanced around the dust-filled area, noting what his teammates were doing; The Sniper was holed up in his usual 'nest', Scout and Pyro were attempting to take down the BLU's Heavy, Demoman was firing off bombs like there was no tomorrow, Engineer was constructing a sentry while keeping an eye out for the BLU Spy, Soldier was engaged in a melee fight with his BLU counterpart…
…and Spy was most likely off trying to get the intelligence, since that was his main specialty. The Medic heard Mikhail call out for healing, which the elder of two obliged. As he set up his Medigun, he heard the shrill and pompous voice of the Announcer ring out.
"We have taken the enemy intelligence!"
It was only a matter of time until Spy got back to base, intelligence in hand. That's how it often worked; he got the Intel and in at least two or three minutes, he would have reached the base. Today was no different.
When the Announcer declared RED's victory, the whole team cheered and the two sides split up, both going back to their respective bases. The RED team talked loudly to each other about their success, with only the Medic remaining silent, even as Mikhail chattered on.
As soon as they got in, they were greeted by Spy, who was leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face. "Gentlemen." He said, his voice showing a bit of pride.
"Thanks again, ya backstabber!" Their Scout, Bobby, declared happily, even with the insult thrown in. "I mean, you're almost always the one getting the Intel, so thanks dude!"
"No problem, Mon ami."
As the team congratulated each other (With the unsurprising exception of their Soldier, Dallas, who was congratulating himself), Spy started to cough a little. The others only noticed when it escalated in volume and intensity, the man's shoulders trembling with each one.
"Spy!" The Engineer, William (Or Bill as he insisted on being called), ran over to the Frenchman and held him, only to be pushed away. Spy covered his mouth and after a bit, not only did he stop coughing, he pulled his hand away…
His hand was stained with blood.
Everyone needed to know what it was.
What it truly was.
I should have known
The Medic scanned through Léon's results (Which was strange, since Spy hated being called by his real name) with a shocked expression. The patient in question lay in the infirmary bed, his usual red suit and mask traded for a white hospital gown. His stormy eyes were dull and his greying black hair limply fell to his shoulders. If it weren't for the dark circles under his eyes, nicotine-stained fingers or the creases in his brow, he would have looked fine.
But he wasn't.
The diagnosis was worse than they imagined.
Lung cancer.
It seemed that The Spy's smoking habits took its toll on his body, wrecking his lungs and heart. Yet he never had the decency to admit what was wrong or even have it checked. But it also seemed that he had symptoms of Emphysema and he had shown signs of fatigue. "Why didn't you come to me earlier?" Medic questioned, slamming the chart back down onto the table. "If you came as soon as you started showing symptoms, I could have treated it right away!"
Léon only looked away, his eyes focusing on the floor. "If I did, then I would have been forced to leave." He explained, a tinge of sadness in his tone. "If I did go, there wouldn't be anything for me. I have no family or friends outside of here, it's just me."
Medic could only sigh as he thought over those words.
Nothing to go home to?
You think I don't know the feeling?
I should have known
The Medic thinks as Léon's condition worsens, the once prideful spy reduced to a very sick man lying in bed. The Frenchman's breathing had gotten even worse and was forced to be on oxygen, tubes placed in his nose to supply his body.
"Friedrich."
Medic's eyes glanced to the other, finding it very odd that Spy was calling him by his real name. "What is it?" he asked, his voice only quivering for a second.
Léon sighed, his stormy blue eyes looking up at the doctor. "I wanted to say… I'm sorry for not coming sooner." He said, his voice more hoarse than it used to be. "I really made you upset, non?" He chuckled, only to be interrupted by a small cough.
"Of course you made me upset, dummkopf!" Medic snapped. "If you had come earlier… I could have easily treated you! If only…" The German stopped as a whole combination of emotions went through him, with anger, sorrow and despair emerging triumphantly.
"Then I apologize, Friedrich." Léon smiled, a genuine smile instead of the cocky smirks he wore while fighting or in general. "I have one request though."
Medic looked at his patient, curious as to what he would ask for. Definitely not a cigarette. "What do you want?"
Silence descended in the infirmary for what seemed like a lifetime. "Since my heart and lungs are destroyed to say the least, I won't be of any use to the team and I have no home outside of here. I'm just a waste of space now." The Spy explained, suddenly avoiding eye contact. "I can't even breathe on my own! This is very painful but… I wanted you to know that I want this to end."
Friedrich processed the words, his eyes widening at what Léon was trying to say. "Nein… You can't be suggesting that I…?"
The Frenchman nodded. "I want you to kill me. Quickly."
Medic felt time slow down as his blood froze in his veins and arteries, not sure what to say to convince the man otherwise.
He had the tools to do it.
He didn't want to kill him.
What should I do?
I should have known!
The Medic screams as Mikhail is trying to comfort him, as the others were looking on. He had just come in and as soon as their Sniper, Jack, had asked about how Léon was doing, the German just broke down and freaked out.
"DOCTOR!" Mikhail bellowed, making everyone in the room fall silent and keep still. "Please calm down. No good for you if you are like this."
Friedrich eventually settled down, his eyes cast downwards. "I'm sorry, Mein freund. It's just…" He choked back a desperate sob as he spoke. "…he's decided something drastic. I just can't grasp why he would want it."
Their Pyro, Dylan, raised an eyebrow. "What d'you mean Medic?" She asked, an almost melodic British accent in her words. She wasn't wearing her usual mask and fire-retardant suit, exposing her loud red hair that reached her elbows, acid green eyes and red shirt and jeans. "What'd he say?"
Silence resonated in the room.
"He's…" Medic sniffed gently, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "He has requested Euthanasia."
"What the bloody 'ell is 'e thinking!?" Kenneth, their Demoman, exploded as soon as the statement was given. "It ain't right, 'e should be glad he's alive! And yer a Doctor ain't ya? Ya should be healing him!"
"Damn maggot should be glad you kept him alive." Soldier said curtly, standing up straight. "He's a disgrace for even thinking of it!"
SLAP!
Medic panted heavily as Dallas clenched his reddening cheek, the former's eyes betraying his deep rage. "Don't you DARE say ANYTHING like that about Léon, ever again, you VERDAMMTEN SCHWEINHUND!" He roared, shocked eyes settling on him. He took a step back, his fury replaced by guilt and sorrow. "I… I don't know… what I should do…"
"I think he should go through with it."
Everyone looked over to Scout, who was now fiddling with his cap. "I mean, if my Ma or someone else I really care for was in that position, It would be more humane to… do it." He said, unusually serious about it.
"I agree." Dylan said, playing with a strand of her hair. "Even if he does survive, he's still going to have very bad quality of life, so…"
"It would be great show of mercy." William said quietly, adjusting the goggles covering his eyes.
"I wouldn't blame the Spook for his decision." Jack said, surprising everyone with his concern for his rival. "If I was like that, I would ask to die as well."
No sound went through the room, the tension thickening at a rapid pace.
"Mattie…"
Medic looked up at the Heavy, who looked very forlorn. All of the people in the room looked over to the large Russian man. "I had a pet dog named Matryoshka. Called her 'Mattie' for short. She was nice friend, like a human in the wrong body, Da?" He explained, sighing a little. "She got very sick, went blind. I didn't want her to be in pain, so… father shot her."
Medic's eyes widened a little. He never really expected Mikhail to say that. "What I'm saying… don't let Spy suffer." The Russian continued. "We'll feel better if he was in no pain."
Friedrich Looked around, his mind piecing the opinions together.
He'd have to make a decision.
Léon would die either way.
I should have known.
Medic lay on his bed, his eyes staring blankly at the white ceiling. Archimedes, his troublemaking dove, perched on the foot of the bed and was staring inquisitively at his owner. "I don't know what to do Archimedes…"
"It's what you want as well."
The German looked up, finding Jack standing in the doorway, his hat tipped back a little. The Australian walked in and stood next to the elder. "It's the Spook's choice, but you will also have to decide what should be done." He said, sitting down on the bed.
"But… He has been my friend ever since I came to this place. How can he ask me to kill him?" Medic sat up, prompting Archimedes to fly out of the way and settle on the walnut desk. "I just… don't know what the best option would be."
The Sniper sighed, looking down at the floor. "I guess I should tell you about Ellie then, huh?" he said quietly, pulling a photo from his vest pocket. Medic looked at the girl in the photo and assumed this was 'Ellie'. She had chestnut hair tied in a braid, sapphire eyes and was wearing a shirt and shorts, showing off her muscular and slim figure.
"She is quite attractive." He stated, earning a small nod from the Sniper.
"While I was travelling the Outback, I met her in Canberra and she was very friendly. She told me everything about herself… but what she talked about the most was to become an Olympic athlete, so she could travel the world…" Sniper sniffed a little. "She wasn't afraid to chase her dream."
"What happened to her?" Medic asked, letting a tiny gasp escape from him as he saw a tear stroll down the man's cheek.
"She got hit by a van and because of that, she lost all feeling in her body below the neck. Couldn't move properly and her dreams were crushed there and then." Jack looked like he was holding back a sob. "She was in so much pain… and they wouldn't do anything to help. By letting her live, they were making her die on the inside."
Silence sat in the room once more. "My point is… that Spook is your friend. Do what you think is right for him and yourself." The Sniper stood, putting the photo back in his pocket. He started to walk out of the room, stopping just before he left. "But my opinion is… Don't let him suffer like that." With that Jack left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Medic stared at where the man was, mulling over those words.
After a few seconds, he put everything together.
He made his decision.
He hoped everyone would forgive him for it.
I. Should. Have. Known.
The Medic says quietly to himself as the syringe in his hand drew out the anaesthetic, pulling it out as soon as it was filled with clear fluid.
When he told Léon that he would perform the procedure, the Spy only smiled and thanked him. So before hand, he let all of the others say their goodbyes to him. It seemed that Sniper was hit the hardest, since the two hugged and it turned out that Jack had completely apologised for his actions.
"Well… This is it." Medic stated, trying his hardest to keep his tears in. "This is your very last chance to change your mind. As soon as I administer the anaesthetic, I will have to… complete the procedure."
"Go ahead." Léon said quietly. "My mind is set. I'm not going to turn back."
Friedrich only nodded as he ran a gloved hand through his dark hair, walking slowly over to the other. "Okay then…" He reached the bedside, taking hold of the Spy's arm and pressed the needle against the flesh.
"Friedrich. Thank you for doing this." Spy smiled genuinely, his eyes giving one last glimmer. "Thank you so much."
Medic remained quiet for a second. "You're welcome my friend." He managed to say. "You are welcome…"
The needle pressed into flesh slowly.
The Medic let a tear fall as he pressed the plunger.
I'm so sorry…
"I should have known."
The Medic looked around his room, the small area cluttered with papers from his searching. He pulled open the door to his closet and looked at the bottom of it, kneeling to pick up the cardboard box that was left there.
He stood up straight and sat on his bed once more, taking the lid off and he let a tear fall as he saw the contents. Before he died, Léon gave him a few trinkets from his travels, including some photos and jewellery. But when he pushed aside some of the photos, he found what he was looking for…
Medic took out the small revolver and opened the cylinder. One bullet left. He closed it again and set the box next to him, The contents staring back at him.
This was it.
Friedrich opened the drawer in his bedside table, pulling out a notepad and pen. He stared at the instruments in his hands before he tore a page out of the pad, writing a message on it for the others to find.
He threw the pad and pen back into the drawer, clenching the small piece of paper in his left hand. "This is it…" He whispered to himself as he clenched the gun in his hand, the metal cool and heavy against his fingers…
He placed it against his right temple, his breath shuddering as panic was setting in. He knew full well that the Respawn System was deactivated when they weren't fighting, which apparently was to save energy and money (No thanks to the Administrator). Medic closed his eyes…
A single tear fell as he whispered apologies in his native tongue.
One final thought ran through his mind as he pulled the trigger…
I should have known.
Click.
BANG!
Mikhail stood up quickly as soon as he heard the gunshot, freaking out all of the others that were in the room with him. "Where's the fire big guy?" Scout asked.
"Doctor…" The Russian stated simply, before running off to the Medic's room, everyone else deciding to follow. They could feel the panic settling in as the large man reached the door to the Medic's room, who started banging against it.
"DOCTOR! Are you alright!?" He shouted, anxiety forming in his expression when no answer was given. "I… I'm coming in!"
Before anyone could stop him, Mikhail slammed his body against the door, shattering the wood into pieces. He walked into the room along with Dylan and Bill, all three becoming pale at the sight before them.
The Medic was collapsed on the now bloodstained bed, a gun in his right hand and his eyes loosely shut. It was only then that they realized just how bad he had gotten, his frame was far smaller from starvation, dark circles lurked under his eyes and his face looked more aged than his real age of forty-five years.
Mikhail was the first to react, falling to his knees as sobbing wracked his massive frame. "Why… Doctor…"
Bill could only place a hand on the man's shoulder, hoping to comfort him. Dylan took a step backward, her eyes wide with shock. "Oh God…!" She whispered before running just out of the room.
Silence grew once more, the only sound being the Heavy mourning. Jack quietly took off his hat and held it to his heart, grief showing itself in his expression. Dallas and Kenneth both silently looked away from the bloody scene, guilt flaring up in them both.
Bobby looked at the scene, suddenly noticing something in the Medic's hand. "Hey… he's holding something." He stated, pointing at the body in question. The Engineer made an 'Hmm?' noise and walked over to the body, seeing a slip of paper. He gently pried it out of his fingers and looked at it, paling at the message written on it.
"What does it say?" Kenneth asked, his voice more quiet than its usual rowdy tone.
Bill looked at everyone else, a grim expression on his face.
"It says… I should have known."
End
Wow… I am SO going to be murdered for this…
But I hope that I haven't incurred the wrath of the Internet Censor Bunnies by writing this Fan Fic. If so, I'm sorry!
Anyway, I hope that I haven't angered any of you by expressing the three main sensitive topics (Effects of smoking, Euthanasia and Suicide) through this.