[[Hey! Alex again. This fanfiction was written by both myself and Kara, yet again in tandem. We worked on it for maybe a week, and now it's 20k+ words total and finished! We hope you like reading it. :3 Rated M pretty much solely for gore.]]

Snowpoint was cold. Too cold.

That's what Soldier thought, anyways. The Midwest of the U.S.A. was much hotter than this. His beloved shovel had frost crawling up its edges. He was holding it in front of the fireplace to warm it up when the BLU Medic tapped him on the shoulder.

"Time for your checkup, Herr Soldier. Schnell, now."

Soldier stood up tall and followed the German towards his clinic.

"Why do I need a checkup?" he complained. "I assure you, I'm in my peak physical condition!"

"Ja, ja, Soldier. I know. Ve just have to make sure of zhat."

Soldier huffed.

The two rounded the corner and entered the infirmary. They entered to see Scout, who was holding his stomach.

"Oh! Hello Herr Scout. Is zhere something wrong? You don't seem well," Medic asked the sickly looking merc.

"Nnh... No, doc," Scout sputtered, leaning over even further. "Not at all. I feel like a squirrel is runnin' around inside there or somethin'." He nodded downwards at his stomach.

"Vell, zhat's not good. Anything else?"

Scout only swallowed, trying to hold down the whatever-it-was he felt scrambling up his insides as Medic stepped closer and shuffled through his medical tools.

A muffled squawk rose from Scout's chest. Medic paused.

"Archimedes?" he asked, "Is zhat vhere you went?" The little dove had been gone since yesterday. He must have gotten inside Scout when Medic was patching him up. "Vell, ve must get zhat bird out of zhere!" Medic chuckled. "Herr Scout, I request zhat you lay on zhe table. Zhis shouldn't hurt. Don't worry."

Medic flicked the switch on the gigantic Medigun that loomed over the table. A frisky neon-blue wave of light emanated over Scout while Medic shuffled for more medical supplies.

"Out," he barked at Soldier. "Your checkup is delayed."

Soldier's grin was almost brighter than the Übercharge. "Diiiiiis-missed!" He made an about-face and bounded cheerfully out of the room, the doors slamming ungracefully behind him.

Scout's stomach rolled and he fidgeted uncomfortably on the table. He was terrified.

He felt a painful thump in his chest and he saw his shirt shift on the outside.

Well, even though he was scared, at least Medic would get the dumb thing out of him.

"I don't vant to use zhe Medigun on you right avay, so I'm going to try somezing before zhat needs to happen," Medic said.

Scout gulped, but complied. He situated himself on the tabletop until he was comfortable and tried to relax. "Wh—what is it?"

"It's an experiment I vas vorking on. It's a stem-cell regeneration solution… I vas thinking zhat, vell, maybe…" A glossy looked misted over his eyes as he stared at nothing, his mind in another place. He shook his head and came back to reality. "Vell. You'll see. First, I must turn zhis on to keep you alive…" The German swung various machinery around until his Quick-Fix was aimed at Scout, and he switched it on. The blue light streamed out of the nozzle and towards Scout's heart.

Medic glowered as he went back and rummaged through his drawers, finally finding the correct tools before he sliced Scout's chest open. Scout closed his eyes as tight as possible and tried not to scream. He was shot every day, he thought. He would live through this. He held his breath and repeated it to himself over and over, rolling his head back and forth while Medic hacked away.

"Zhere," Medic grumbled, wiping the sweat off his forehead while a plump bird nestled in his free hand. "I did it."

Scout looked down and nearly retched; the only reason he didn't was because he knew it would spatter all over his organs. "Hhh," he squeaked. "Hurry, Doc. I can't do this."

"Fine." Medic placed his bird gently on the edge of his desk as he turned to find a certain needle. "I'm going to try zhe stem-cell regeneration concoction I created. Vether or not you are villing, I am using it on you. If it vorks, and heals you faster zhan my Medigun, vell..." He shrugged. "Zhe BLU team vill never lose again."

"Wait, what?" Scout froze. "So… So you don't know if it works, then?" Medic nodded.

It couldn't be that bad... could it?

The German grabbed a few test tubes and he mixed the liquids and they fizzled into a thick, pale brew. Medic carefully poured it over Scout's open wound and instantly the cells began regenerating.

"Wonderful!" Medic exclaimed, shrugging his shoulders gleefully.

"Did anything go wrong?" Scout decided not to stare at the wound. It was too disgusting.

"I think ve have succeeded," Medic smiled to himself, "You should be fine in no time at all."