The sun was beating down hard on the parched desert below, the awful heat of it all grilling skin and killing life. It wasn't the only one.
The suited mercenary had been running around all day. Spy checking, keeping close, straying off, pushing, he was trying to always be in several places at once. His muffled huffs of fatigue went unnoticed due to how quiet they were, but Medic was always watching him closely.
Medic, if you had not already known, was charged with the overall health of the team, on, and off the battlefield. Pyro was one of the special cases on the team.
Demoman had to, of course, go through certain exercises to keep his blood/alcohol level down enough to live, Spy often told to use his patches.
Engineer had bad shoulders, and Heavy, had muscle soreness all over, and they required pain medication and therapy.
Scout needed to be given enough vitamins to avoid being broken in half, Sniper given medicine to counteract the effect of Jarate pills.
Also, Soldier's need for sedatives and Medic's blood pressure. Because really, why wouldn't he have it?
But Pyro, was a very special case indeed. All details kept hidden from the others, gladly. But he was well educated on how to deal with Pyro.
Medic had been far too busy with the others to handle Pyro throughout the day, so most of the time the fire hazard had to stagger towards measly amount of health and whatever the others were courteous enough to leave him. If they gave it any thought, of course. By far, he was socially the runt.
Medic had enough time to collect a breath or two on the sidelines during lunch break, or how the Heavy took it," When one has time for sandvich." Medic wiped his brow. One of the hottest days of the year, and he was wearing a lab coat still! He didn't even want to imagine what Spy was going through, but that snake was probably collecting kills in the pond below Two Fort.
He tried scanning the battlefield from behind a wall in the base. Nothing out of the ordinary, the same explosions and brimstone. But where was Pyro? He decided to ask.
"That guy is around the corner and between walls before I even got time to give two steps, I don't know where he ******* is. I'm not a babysitter." Scout shrewdly cussed out.
"That crispy fella? Naw, I haven't seen him much today. 'bout two glimpses and flash, sure. He sure is an elusive son of a gun, huh?" Engineer replied pensively.
"Non, I haven't seen that monstrosity for a few hours now. Strange." Spy spoke suspiciously.
"Negative!" Soldier yelled.
"Nah!" Demoman barked.
"Nyet." Said Heavy.
Medic was already giving himself some aching feet for trying to find Pyro. Where could that human match be?
He knew he hadn't asked one other person. He walked to the battlements, and behind a safe wall, stood to ask.
"Sniper, have you seen the fire hazard?" Medic asked, tired of no answers.
"Who." Sniper replied softly, not keeping his eye off the scope's lens.
"Er, Pyro. Have you seen Pyro? I've been looking all over for him, and for God's sake, nobody knows. Not even Spy." He hastily said.
"Shh. Yeah. I saw him go into the enemy base. And he hasn't come out for a while now, No respawn… Go away." Sniper whispered quickly, shooing Medic away from his focus.
Medic was racking his brains. No respawn? And for hours? What was he doing in there? He couldn't go in there by himself, and the others were already done with their shift, the bell ringing loudly across the battlefield. As they all packed up their things and got their coats and jackets on for the desert night, Medic still had no idea where Pyro was.
"Heavy!" Medic flagged the large man down as he loaded his large gun into the truck. "I need your help. Pyro hasn't come back yet. Sniper said he never got back from the Blu base this morning." He explained to the enormous Russian.
"… It is not safe. Better to call Miss Pauling and have her handle it." He continued to rest the gun softly on the bed of the pickup.
"Heavy, I don't think it's a good idea to wait that long. He could be… trapped, or, tortured. Miss Pauling won't be happy with us if we don't even try to sort it out ourselves." Medic tried to reason with Heavy.
After much consideration and two minutes of thought, Heavy nodded. "But we must be silent. And move quickly." Funny thought coming from a heavy weapons guy, but medic was pleased. He could always trust this man.
They crept across the bridge and swiftly into the entryway of the Blu base.
They kept their footsteps light as they traveled through the main corridor and dirt floor.
"Heavy… What do you think of Pyro?" Medic asked, quietly as he could.
"You ask this now?" Heavy said annoyed.
"He's not very well-liked," Medic stated, "But I have no idea why-"
"He is dangerous." Heavy said to shut Medic up.
"What? Well, yes, but we're dangerous too-"
"No. He kills without pay. He does not care. They are using mental patient for awful job. He's exploited for being dangerous, no matter what. That's what they hire him for. Killing machine." Heavy listed off.
"Yes but… He's fairly sweet?" Medic offered.
"Crazy people can be good. But their minds tell their bodies to do terrible things." Heavy finished. They stayed silent.
They made their way to the open-air courtyard in the center of the base. The stopped at the threshold as they saw the light from the respawn room's door open close, the last Blu getting out through the battlements.
Medic sighed, but Heavy's arm went up. He pointed.
The haystack under the stairs… It had been smaller before, and it was now moving up and down softly.
Heavy tiptoed over, Medic close behind, to ruffle through.
Surely enough, they found him. Shivering under the stress of the night cold, blood and bullet wounds all over his body. He was struggling just to keep his chest inflated.
"Pyro! What in the world were you thinking! I've been looking for you all day! Do you have any idea what Miss Pauling would-" He was interrupted by Heavy's hand of silence.
"Pyro. Do not fall asleep." He slowly shifted his arms under Pyro's body to lift them up, cradling them softly. "You can't respawn this late. Do not fall asleep." Heavy said.
They walked back to the truck, and Heavy kept talking to keep Pyro awake.
"There is big cake for you, and ice cream. We bought movie you wanted, and new paint for your pictures." He kept listing off things Pyro adored to keep him breathing and excited. Medic was silent, unaware of how well Heavy was equipped to handle this.
Heavy hadn't forgotten when he had to help some people keep afloat, even if it was long ago.
Pyro didn't forget when he had been cared for, and truly appreciated.
And Medic certainly hadn't forgotten when he saw people suffer. They hardly had anything in common, all three of them.
But they knew. They knew what pain was.
When they got back in the truck, the base was lit up with warm lights and noise.
When they came through the door, everyone looked up.
Sniper sat at the table, feet up on a chair and sipping his nighttime tea, Engineer playing solitaire with his helmet on the metal surface.
Scout and Demoman sat and watched an episode of "Dateline: Tom Jones", Soldier at the punching bag in the corner.
Spy was at the sink, washing out a few dishes.
"Hey Pyro!" They all greeted brightly. The fiery mercenary hummed a little greeting and gave weak wave to give back, but then was rushed to the medical bay as quickly as they could, his arm falling limp.
Heavy sat outside the Medic's office, the doctor coming out soon after giving pyro treatment.
"Nothing major, of course. That dummkopf." He sighed, holding his forehead.
"He is good man. Good worker." Heavy said, looking at a piece of paper.
Medic looked over at it, Pyro's name at the top of all of theirs. And a huge number beside it.
"He captured intelligence fifteen times today. One hundred and forty kills. Forty assist kills and extinguishing." Heavy read off.
Medic huffed a small laugh. "You're kidding." Heavy shook his head.
"Certainly the sun today." Medic relaxed.