Clear.
This is from the Medic's point of view. Please review and enjoy. The last one will be Scout.
Miracles.
They said that was what he did everyday.
He laughed scornfully.
No, he didn't.
There would be no illnesses, death or needless suffering if he could perform miracles.
Only God could do those. Yes, despite the atmosphere he lived and worked in, Medic was a faithful Christian, praying avidly every night for his friends, family and the world in general before retiring to bed. That cross on his arm stood for more than just medicine.
However, even with his faith (and that was severely tested each day), Medic was a jaded man of science. His frustration grew each time he would heal someone, only to see them blown to pieces in front of him. Respawn was constant but…it didn't feel like a difference. He should try and save them from that if he could!
The Medigun and Ubercharge had been massive breakthroughs, he would admit; he shuddered at the crazy RED Medic that had conjured it up though. How that man could happily play around with his patients as if they were toys (breaking every part of his Hippocratic Oath in the process) was beyond his counterpart. He preferred extensive manual and chemical research, toying around with tablets and other medicines until he found a combination that would have less side-effects etc. Testing them out on himself was the only option; he refused to let his team (especially his beloved friend Heavy) be subject to such danger.
The risk to himself was less important.
He wasn't sure how his teammates saw him. He felt as if they took him for granted, taking off without uttering a word of gratitude and leaving Medic standing there looking desolate and unsure until he felt the pull of another person in need and his face would brighten as he rushed off to heal them…all in the hope that SOMEONE would acknowledge his work. Only BLU Heavy understood – he was a smart, well-educated Russian man.
"I LOVE this Doktor!"
And another squishing hug would be provided, Medic smiling all the while.
"Something is wrong for Medic."
Medic jolted with a start as he raised bright brown eyes to meet calm metal ones.
"N-Nein Heavy…I was…in thought." Medic stuttered, trying to phrase what he wanted to say in English. The massive man sitting beside him was kind to him; he knew English fluently but seeing as how Medic was not fluent in that or Russian, he only spoke simple words and bought him an English dictionary to teach him personally.
It made Medic's heart flutter with warmth.
Heavy Weapons Guy could also see right through him.
"Nyet Doktor, you need not worry." Putting a bear-like hand on Medic's bowed head, he ruffled it. "Is credit to team."
Medic tried out the unfamiliar word in his head.
"Was?"
"Credit – a praise given to someone who has earned their worth." the friend replied, smiling fondly at Medic's surprise. "Am sure team think so too."
Medic buried into Heavy's arms a second later, blinking back hot tears.
Even when the whole world had gone to pot and they had to sit in a gloomy, steel and concrete base…he could always rely on Heavy Weapons Guy.
Scout is last and hopefully this was alright! Please review and Medic will give you all a free Ubercharge.
Medic: Ja! *charges up Medigun*