*looks down* *it's been a week since I updated* WHAT HAPPENED TO THE TIME HERE YA GO.
Also things don't really get funny until the next chapter. Yeah...
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Chapter one: Stolen Trash and Pregnant Dogs
The anger stirring amongst the men was so hot and tangible you could have knocked it out of the air. They hadn't lost that badly in a long time, not since BLU got a new Heavy they all had to get used to. After Medic had been killed by their Scout, he'd been stuck in respawn for longer than normal, and when he did finally come to, the battle was over.
Muttered obscenities fell thickly upon the evening air as they trudged through the cooling sand back to base. Scout was walking with a prominent limp and Soldier had his helmet off, worrying it with one hand while the other was over an eye that he probably wouldn't see out of until Medic could tend to him. Something was about to break. They could all feel it.
And of course, it broke in the form of everyone's favorite deafening, buck-twenty, baseball enthusiast.
"Yo, where WERE you today?" Scout reeled around as soon as they made it in base and turned on Medic. "Demo was callin' for you for like twenty minutes! I had to go get a health kit for him!" Scout glanced towards Demo as if the Scotsman would help his argument but he just gave a grunt and flopped unceremoniously on the couch, wincing as he stretched out his aching muscles. Medic would have felt the sneer on his lips if he could; his face was still numb from the broken neck respawn.
"It's not like I vas purposefully neglecting him! I vas a bit busy viz others things." He took this opportunity to shrug off his heavy lab coat, covered in blood that he should probably wash out immediately but couldn't be bothered. He draped it over the back of a kitchen chair and pushed up the sleeves of his dress shirt, gritting his teeth against a bad burn across the top of his forearm that was at least second degree and had singed off all his arm hair.
"Yes, 'e was too busy playing ball with ze other Scout," Spy said lowly from the door, his usually smooth voice rough with exhaustion. He had been the last to enter and looked even more disgusted with life than he usually did. Medic's only reply was a quiet snarl as he continued poking at his burn.
"So what, are ya gonna treat yourself before ya even look at anyone else?" Scout yelled indignantly from the floor where he was sitting, clutching a hand on the underside of his left thigh, blood oozing through his fingers.
"Maybe if you'd stop displaying zat crooked mess inside your mouth you call teeth, I'd have a look at your leg!" Medic snapped, baring his own almost too-perfect teeth in response. Scout's face turned bright red and he slapped a hand over his mouth, giving the doctor a murderous glare.
"Will y'all just can it? We're all tired and we had a rough day." Engie sighed from the kitchen where he was rubbing the back of his neck wearily.
"I disagree! We need to settle this like Americans!" Soldier demanded from where he was near Engie, stomping his foot like a child.
"Non. I'm going to bed. Ze bushman's piss fumes are making me light 'eaded. More so than usual." Spy wrinkled his nose and cast Sniper a glance, a smug smile playing on his lips. Sniper was busy washing the coffee pot and he almost mechanically slowed in his washing.
"Hey, Scout?" he spoke up quietly.
"Yeah?"
"How do you know if a Frenchie's been in yer yard?" Sniper placed the pot down gently and he turned around to face the boy. He had a glint of cruelty in his eyes that was very unlike him.
"How?" Scout said, already grinning, awaiting the punchline.
"All ya trash is gone and yer dog's pregnant!" Sniper delivered it, following up with barking laughter. Scout joined in, adding his own braying guffaw to the mix until Sniper's laughter was suddenly cut short by a gunshot.
Almost in slow motion, everyone turned to see Sniper by the sink, dead, but still standing like in some surreal horror film. He swayed momentarily, blood gushing from his mouth before he crumpled on the ground, red spattered on the window behind him like a macabre Jackson Pollock piece.
Spy was standing with his revolver still raised, the cigarette clenched between his teeth so hard it was bent in half.
Spy's hand shook momentarily before he pocketed his gun, drawing in a breath he hadn't realized he'd been depriving himself of.
Medic wasn't sure what was worse. The fact Spy had murdered another teammate right in front of everyone, or the fact that they all weren't really that shocked by it.
"What is the matter with you." Engie said softly. It wasn't a question, it was more of a statement.
"I-I do apologize. I'm not sure what came over me." Spy stammered, swallowing hard.
"Vell, vhat are you standing around here for?!" Medic spat, making Spy jump in surprise, snapping him out of his dark reverie. "Go meet him in ze respawn room, IF he's zhere!" Medic's face darkened as he glanced over to Sniper's body which was thankfully beginning to go through the respawn process. Spy backed away a bit and gave everyone an even look before walking swiftly out of the base, making his way to the respawn room.
Everyone else lay on the floor in exhaustion or nursed wounds that either happened after the battle was over or respawn didn't fix. Medic sighed and made his way over to Soldier who took his hand away for the doctor to examine his eye. It must have been bad because Soldier wasn't yelling about how the patriotism coursing through his veins granted him to feel no pain, and he wasn't trying to fix it himself. He just sort of sat down and did as he was told. Again, very out of character. Medic cleaned him up and then turned to finally tend to Scout but the boy was triumphantly holding up a bullet, his hands soaked with blood, his face deathly pale.
"S-see? Don't need ya help, ya crazy K-Kraut," he swallowed thickly and muttered something about going to sleep as his hand fell limply to his side. He was probably going to bleed out soon. No one made a move to prevent that.
The door burst open again and Spy stormed in with his head partially tipped back, blood steadily pouring out of his nose. Medic stepped forward to help him but Spy stopped his with a sharp gesture and he disappeared down the corridor. Medic felt a hot wash of misplaced anger and he bid everyone a venomous goodnight before following Spy in the same fashion. He was just near enough to hear Scout say:
"Hey big guy, why don't you go tuck ya boyfriend in before he shoves us all in an oven?"
The remark was immediately followed by a loud slap and a yelp from Scout.
All Medic felt was the familiar gnawing guilt / rage combination churning in his midsection as he slowly entered the infirmary and practically collapsed on the other side of the door, slumping to the ground, his face buried in his hands.
Since when had they become so dysfunctional? When most of them joined this job, they didn't even realize they'd be working with other men. At first they'd done their best to avoid one another, starting off with awkward pats on the back after a job well done or a shared beer or a quiet laugh…but slowly, very slowly, they'd all grown on each other. Coworkers turned into acquaintances, acquaintances turned into friends, and friends eventually turned into brothers. Brothers who drank together merrily and played poker, laughing until their sides split and crying about lost love together. Together. Of course, they sometimes killed each other. Either from drunken fist fights or sober fist fights over anything from political stances to rugby teams. Sometimes it was from trying to accomplish some ridiculous stunt, or competing in a rousing game of "who can lose the most fingers before they pass out".
But never in cold blood.
Never in the purposeful unbridled rage and exhaustion Spy displayed tonight.
The door against Medic's back vibrated with knocking and he sighed slightly in relief and annoyance. There was only one person it could be. He stood and cracked his neck before opening the door and welcoming Heavy in. The Russian entered slowly and then turned around, crossing his huge arms over his barrel chest, assessing the doctor's state.
"Have come to tuck my boyfriend in." he said, amusement on his face. Medic, however, remained irritated. Heavy let the smile drop and he sighed greatly, his arms falling to his sides. "Scout does not mean what he says."
"You're making excuses for him now?" Medic snapped, harsher than he meant to.
"Not excusing him. Explaining him." Heavy said simply. "Besides, Demo smacked him across room." This bit of information did cause Medic to smile and Heavy grinned as well, laying a massive hand on his shoulder. The warm weight alleviated Medic's inner turmoil and he sighed, instinctively leaning into his friend.
"I zhink ve all need a break. Like a vacation." Medic said, not able to hide the laughter that broke his statement. Heavy snorted in disbelief.
"Vacation. That is terrible idea. Do you not remember last 'vacation' we had?" he shook his head, slightly grimacing at the memories.
"Oh, yes. Yes. I remember. It vas only a joke, don't vorry," they stood in silence for awhile before Medic asked if Heavy would keep him company while he did paperwork.
The answer, of course, was yes.
Next time on The Mercs Take Florida:
"Just hurry. He's pissed." At this Scout gave a little whimper and dashed down the hall where muffled French shouting could be heard.
