'Anything in which medic is the mama bear of the group' for Anonymous.
Medic healed Heavy and Heavy protected Medic. That was just how it worked.
Apart from times like this when there were three rounds of shotgun pellets lodged in Heavy's gut, his right leg was broken and there was an angry BLU Pyro baring down on both of them.
Now it Medic was the one protecting Heavy, standing in front of him, coattails flapping in the icy wind. His lips were pulled back into a snarl and his eyes narrowed beneath blood-spattered glasses.
In this moment, he wasn't just a healer. A doctor. A medic.
He was dangerous.
Glinting needles arced from his syringe gun, their trajectory perfectly calculated to bring them raining down on the enemy Pyro.
It wasn't enough to stop the BLU though. With their thick, asbestos lined suit, the needles barely reached the flesh. All it did was make the Pyro angrier.
Just as Medic planned.
He glanced back at Heavy for a moment, his gaze determined. Protective.
Heavy knew him well enough to know that the look meant, do you trust me? And Heavy did. He trusted his Medic to the moon, to the sun, to all the stars and back again.
The scorching heat of the approaching flamethrower filled the air as the enraged Pyro charged straight at them.
Medic braced himself. At the very last second he span away from the flames. Before the BLU could turn to follow him, or aim their weapon down to burn the injured Heavy, Medic thrust his bone saw through the Pyro's side.
Their suit did nothing to protect them from Medic's stab. He was fuelled by the wild, primordial rage of someone who will do anything to protect what they care about most in the world.
The flamethrower fell from the Pyro's limp hands, and they followed down after it. Medic wrenched out his saw, covered in blood and gore, his coattails singed.
For a moment, Heavy glimpsed that desperate, feral snarl on Medic's face.
Then it was gone. It slipped away as if it'd never been there, while Medic adjusted his glasses and put away his bone saw.
'Now hold still while I heal you,' he scolded. The only emotion in his voice and on his face was that of mild annoyance. Even though Heavy hadn't moved at all, he didn't argue. And he didn't bring up what had just happened.
They'd all learnt not to. Medic would willingly throw himself into a burning look-out post to rescue Sniper, or drag Demoman away to safety from the middle of a rocket fight, or fight the enemy Soldier head-on to protect an injured Scout, but he hated anybody going on about it. He'd shrug and say he was just doing his job at best, and threatened them with unnecessary surgery at worst.
So Heavy never said anything, but it made him smile to think of what a mama bear Medic could really be.
