I don't own tf2, though that would be freaking awesome, and I really don't own the Medic OC that the enemy medic is based off of... I did think up the Heavy I wrote though!

Enjoy!

=w=

It was raining today. It was such a rare occurrence that the match had been canceled, but not before scout had slid on the slick wood and fractured his knee. If it weren't for the medigun, he probably would never bee ale to run again. As it was, there were three more weather related accidents before the Announcer gave up and told them to hit the showers and not come back until everything was dry again. So here the man sat, in the entryway reading Tsar Hunger, his favorite book. A small sound pricked at his ears and he frowned, looking over the top of his book.

Nothing there…

He shrugged and closed his book before setting it down and heading into the rain. He nearly tripped over a small object, but kneeled and looked at it. A vitasaw. But it was the wrong color. He looked up, seeing a trail of red blood and a too-still form laying in the mud. He frowned and drew closer, seeing the once-white labcoat and the colored insignia. He bit his lip, knowing it was against contract… But… He looked up at the sky and made up his mind. He couldn't bring the man to his Medic, but he could still do first aid. It wasn't too hard.

After stripping the man down-making sure not to look at anything that would get him hit or stabbed with pointy things- he washed, disinfected and bandaged up the horrible cut that had not quite healed after the match before putting one of his spare shirts on the unconscious man and laying him down on the bed. He made sure to bundle them around the medic before sitting on the ground and leaning against the bed. This was going to be a long and uncomfortable night…

_~^~_~^~_~^~_ Timeskip _~^~_~^~_~^~_

The medic stirred, groaning slightly in pain as he opened pale blue eyes. He had expected to die. But this wasn't the hell he remembered from his trips to respawn. This was a barracks room. But something was off, He slowly sat up, bringing a bare hand to- Wait… He looked at his hands. This wasn't right. He was injured. He could feel it. He looked down at himself and sucked in a breath. This wasn't his shirt. It was much too big. He was swimming in it like a child in their father's work clothes. There was only one class he could think of with a shirt like this and he looked around frantically. There was no one here. Wherever here was. He frowned and got out of bed, wincing in pain as he struggled to remain vertical when the room wanted to swim. He had seen the patches on the shoulder, but this room was so… Spartan. There was a dest and a bookshelf and a closet and a bed. The bookshelf had unmarked books and the desk was devoid of anything but an inkwell and a quill. Someone needed to start living in the modern day and use a ballpoint pen like everyone else.

"Good. Doktor is awake," a deep voice said softly and he bristled, turning to glare up at the giant to hide his nerves. The man simply chuckled and picked him up, ignoring his outraged flailing and semi-quiet demands to be let go and put down. He found himself deposited on the bed once more and he glared up at the enemy Heavy, "Do not look at me like that Kotenok. I find you and save you. Now stay in bed. Injury is not done healing yet."

"Vhat did you call me?" he bristled again, though this time in indignation. How dare this man insinuate he had needed assistance of any kind! He would have been just fine. So what if no on e seemed to have noticed him missing. So what if the only unconditional kindness he seemed to have received came from the enemy. He was not going to let himself be swayed. This man was still the enemy! "I am not sis 'Kotenok'! I am se Medic. Now let me go!"

"Nyet," The man shook his head with an infuriating smile on his face that made the medic want to carve it off with a rusted butterknife. He didn't have the chance to argue further with the insufferable man because he was suddenly turned around and those big hands were on his back and he suddenly didn't care anymore because whatever he was doing back there about made him melt like ice cream on a hot day. He came close to outright purring as the surprisingly dexterous digits soothed the kinks in his back and left him feeling far better than ever. Eventually they left his back and he sighed in disappointment as the Heavy spoke again, "Doktor will stay for breakfast and I will be taking to neutral zone so you can return to team. Next time I cannot be so nice moy Zabyli Kotenok."

"Vhat is Kotenok?" he grumbled, but it was less angry and defensive. Heavy simply chuckled softly and brought over a tray filled with pastries and meat and fruit for him to pick from. Once he had eaten his fill, he realized he felt rather drowsy. He allowed himself to be tucked into bed as he yawned, curling up in his sleep as a large hand gently stroked his head. He awoke later, feeling far more refreshed and ready to take anyone on. He saw his Uniform next to the bed, sans damage or stains, and put it on. He wondered who had undressed him, but decided it was best not to dwell as the Heavy seemingly popped out of nowhere and scooped him up.

"Is time to be going Doktor," the heavy chuckled, cradling him close enough that he could feel the larger man's heat seeping into his skin as they traveled to the rather close Neutral Zone. Once there, he was set on his feet and the heavy patted his head one last time, "Goodbye Doktor. I will be seeing you on battlefield… My lost kitten."

"VAS?"