Medic opened his eyes groggily. He found that he felt stiff, and his chest throbbed with a dull pain. He frowned and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Medic supposed he fell asleep in the infirmary (as he often did): he had dreamed of the rolling hills of Germany, his hometown, his mother smiling at him, a hand outstretched for him to take. He reached his own arm out, hoping that his brief dream was real.

Nope, still sitting on the floor of the infirmary. He tilted his head back and sighed heavily, a bit disappointed. He let his hand drop and rest on his knee. Medic sat up straighter, but he noticed there was no sensation of his body following the action. His brow furrowed briefly before bewilderment overtook him.

The arm that was supposed to be on his knee was hanging limply at his side. His coat was splotched with blood, and in his lap was a needle coated with blood-

Hold on. Did he…. die?

Medic scrambled to get up from the floor. As he stood, he whipped around to see his physical body slumped against the sink, very much dead. Its lifeless eyes stared back at him. "Oh, Gott," he whispered. Medic swayed, vision going fuzzy. He attempted to grab hold of the examination table to steady himself. Instead of gripping the side, however, his hand passed through the table and he crashed back to the floor. Medic groaned and heaved himself off the ground again. His hands and legs trembled. Why wasn't he able to touch the table?

….Oh. Medic began to connect the dots as to what was going on. The ache in his chest and shoulders increased.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he breathed deeply (despite not needing to) until he stopped shaking. Now more composed, he turned back to the sink. "How wunderbar," he told his dead body. Medic crouched in front of his body and cupped its chin in his hands. Oh, so now he was able to touch physical things. "How curious," he murmured.

Medic, now intrigued by his corpse, tweaked its nose. The movement caused the spectacles his body wore to slide forward. Medic sat back on his haunches, pleased that he made some sort of alteration to the physical world. After a minute, he stood and walked back to the examination table. Medic furrowed his brow and grabbed the table's edge.

That's odd, he thought. Just a moment ago my hand went through the table. He noticed a stray scalpel lying on the table, and cautiously pushed it off the edge. It clattered to the floor. Medic returned to where his corpse was and pulled open one of the cabinets next to it. He shut it and pulled back his hand, staring at it. "How curious," he said again.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Medic stood to see who was coming. It was Sniper.

The Aussie walked past Medic and came to a stop in front of his corpse. Sniper took off Medic's spectacles and slid a hand over the body's open eyelids, closing them. Medic shifted uneasily; his corpse now looked as if it were sleeping peacefully. Sniper sat down on the infirmary's concrete floor. He took off his aviators and rubbed his eyes. Sniper sighed heavily. "Gerard," he said simply.

Medic's eyebrows raised. It had been a long time since he had heard Sniper say his name. Sniper had always been so friendly to Medic. It hadn't been uncommon to find him and Sniper sitting in the infirmary, discussing this and that. Not long after Sniper's visits became regular, the two had exchanged their birth names, something that had been stripped from them upon joining the Gravel War. But as the war went on, Sniper and Medic both became busy and their chats were less frequent, to the point where they barely saw each other.

Medic sat cross legged next to Sniper and cautiously placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Sniper shivered. "Bloody cold in here," he said, rubbing his arms for warmth.

"Gerard, why'd he do it? Why'd the boy have to up and murder you?" Sniper pushed the glasses back on the corpse's face. His hand lingered. "What the bloody hell made Scout go mad like that?"

"Lawrence," Medic said, desperately hoping that Sniper would respond to him calling his name. Medic wished that he could do something. Sniper had been his friend, and now his friend was mourning his death, unaware that Medic was next to him. He was so frustrated that all he could do was sit and watch Sniper stare dejectedly at his dead body, his body that would never respawn.

He would never respawn because a teammate killed him.

That stupid boy. Because of Scout, RED team wouldn't have a medic. Because of Scout, Medic was dead, a ghost that was damned to walk the earth, alone, for eternity. Medic was furious with Scout and what he did.

Medic would make that stupid, stupid boy suffer.


Sniper barely believe it. The true friend he had among RED team was dead in front of him. Sniper was used to being alone, but it had been nice to have someone to talk to and share the occasional beer with. "Dammit, Gerard!" he yelled. "What're we gonna do now?! We don't need more dead folks here! I- I don't…."

Sniper's shoulders rose and fell quickly, his nails pressing hard into his palms. He tried to even out his breath and unclenched his fists. Everything about him looked deflated, even the brim of his hat drooped. Sniper pushed his hat back and squared his jaw. Shouting at it wasn't going to move Medic's body out of the infirmary. With his gloved hand, Sniper gingerly took the bloody needle from Medic's lap and placed it on the counter. Then he bowed his head and gently lifted Medic's body in his arms. "Alright, Gerard, let's get you out of here."


A/N: I'm sorry for not updating this story in a while! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, I'd love to hear from my readers to know what I need to improve on. Thank you for reading, and for being patient for this chapter!