A/N: I'm back again - this time with a longer chapter! I would like to say thank you to Chosenbap for following this story, Annomynous for reviewing, chibiofdeath for favoriting me, and VivianShadwGirl for favoriting this story. It really means a lot.

Heavy was woken from his slumber by a frantic Medic. His friend shook him by the shoulders with as much strength as he could muster and the feeling pulled Heavy from his dream.

"What?" Heavys voice rumbled. Medic visibly relaxed and climbed off of the Russian, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Heavy sat up and pulled his legs closer to his body so Medic would have more room. Medic seemed to understand the motion and he moved back to sit shoulder to shoulder with the giant, neither of them looking at each other.

Medic took a deep breath. "I had a nightmare." Heavy didn't saw anything. The doctor didn't like to talk about his emotions and Heavy wasn't going to make him talk until he was ready.

"It vas zhe day after zhe Uberheart surgery. You veren't in zhe infirmary so I vent looking for you. I found you in your room… You vere bleeding und cut und bruised." Medic didn't elaborate on the extent of Heavys injuries but gruesome imagery filled the larger mans mind. "Vhenever you moved I could feel your pain. My legs gave out and zhe pain vas equal to getting burned or shot."

Heavy looked at Medic while he paused. He was shaking slightly, from what part of the dream Heavy wasn't sure, and his glasses were starting to slid down his nose again. Medic breathed in deeply and Heavy noticed his head. Or more accurately, his hair. Heavy lightly touched one of the spots were blood had soaked his locks and Medics head flew upwards. Heavy put his hand back in his lap and Medic exhaled loudly.

"I clawed at my hair vhile I vas asleep. I'm fine." Heavy nodded. Medic turned his head downwards again "You, vell, zhe dream you, told me zhat I should put otzers before myself."

Heavy glared at Medic with rage in his eyes. "You do. You die for us all the time and stay up late to help us. You are credit to team."

"Maybe." Medic lifted his head and pushed his glasses to their rightful place.

"So," Heavy desperately wanted to stop Medic from thinking badly of himself, "why did you come to me?"

Medic shifted. "I vanted to make sure you vere alright." Heavy laughed lowly. "Vhat?" Medic asked, offended.

"You wanted to check on me. Is cute." Heavy smiled playfully at his teammate.

"Fine," Medic scoffed and hid a smile, "I guess you won't mind not being ubered or healed on zhe battlefield. Or not having me viz you."

"No doktor. You must stay with me. Am your shield after all."

Medic smiled openly and stretched, joints popping loudly. Heavy winced slightly at the sound.

"You should go back to bed. Still have a while before morning, get some more sleep." Medic doubted he'd be able to fall back asleep, but he stood from the bed anyways.

"Danke, Heavy. For listening."

Heavy smiled at his friends back as he left the room. The door clicked shut behind him, and Heavy laid back down, thinking about the similarities between both of their dreams.

Medic shut Heavys door and started to walk down the stairs to go back to his room. He was on the second to last step when he collapsed.

It was if the enemy Heavy had punched him in the gut, the pain was that great. The pain wasn't centered around his stomach, however, it was in his head. Medics head pounded and he shut his eyes tightly to try and block out the intense pressure that pressed against his skull.

Along with the headache came a different type of pressure that surrounded Medic. It was a whirlwind of… Feelings?

Pain, fear, joy, a vast majority of emotions Medic had experienced in his life swam around him. He felt them too, wanting to cry and smile and attack something because of the conflicting feelings that wormed their way inside of him. Medics hands somehow found his head again and the dim pain that came from scraping his nails against his scalp did nothing to alleviate the pain in his head.

Medic grit his teeth and held his breath. He tried waiting for this /thing/ to pass, but when nothing happened, he growled. Medic tried to stand but found he could do nothing but breathe. Even his hands had stopped their clawing and they fell useless to his sides. He continued to sit on the step and figured out something interesting.

Each emotion came with a certain feel to it. The feel translated into scent and taste and Medic was able to tell from which mercenary it came from. It was very weird, to delve into his coworkers feelings like this. But with nothing else to do other than experiment, Medic let his curiosity take control.

Citrus, fruity, and almost too sweet. Scout. Pride and joy. For whatever reason, when Medic concentrated on it, an image floated from the mash of emotions. It was a young boy, maybe about eleven years of age, who was wearing a uniform and holding a wooden baseball bat. The boy was grinning widely, crooked teeth shining in the bright sunlight. A baseball was held in place under his shoe and it looked slightly frayed. Medic had no doubt that this was Scout as a kid.

Smoke, spices, and heat. Spy. Nervousness and patience. It was a dark alley, Medic seeing the back of a thin mans back. The man wore a dark gray suit and a tuft of black hair sat curled on his head. The man, Spy, held his butterfly knife in hand and stared to down the road where a thicker man stood under a street lamp. If Medic could have moved, he would've opened his eyes in surprise. He was seeing a younger Spy, one who looked like he was on his first paid kill, if the anxiety was anything to go on.

Alcohol and chemicals. Demoman. Hatred and loathing. An image started to form as Medic focused, but his head began to pound and it drifted back to where it came from.

Medic tried to keep exploring this new sensation, he really did, but he felt himself begin to black out. His skull felt about ready to burst and he was loosing feeling in his extremities. With the last of his strength he pried his mouth open and tried to call for help.

"Heavy!"

Only nine minutes had passed since Medic had left to go back to his room. Heavy had just been laying on his bed, hands clasped over his stomach. It usually took him almost half an hour to fall asleep, so he wasn't too concerned about still being awake. He was, however, concerned about the sense of dread that was growing in his chest. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face, exhausted and worried.

It turned out he had a reason to be bothered.

A small thump came first. Heavy thought for a minute that Medic had missed a step, that he tripped over himself. He paused his movements and his brow furrowed. But the doctor was never clumsy, only becoming accident-prone on the few occasions when he got absolutely hammered.

A groan. Heavy stopped breathing at this point, wanting to hear the noises better.

Nothing happened.

Then, his name.

Heavy leaped from his bed. He swung his door open and it hit the wall with a bang. His feet were surprisingly quiet on the floor, but the steps still creaked with his weight as he paced down them.

"Doktor!"

Medic was curled on one of the steps, more blood on his hands and head. His eyes were shut but his eyes underneath them twitched and fluttered. His breathing was labored and he shook from the effort.

Heavy placed a hand on Medics shoulder and the Germans eyes flung open as he took a deep breath, one that wasn't restricted by the tightness of his chest.

All the emotions had left Medic. He was able to feel his own feelings and think without anyone influencing him. He wasn't sure what caused it, but he needed help. And help wasn't Medic liked asking for.

"What happened?" Heavys hand gripped Medic tightly as the shorter man rose from his position on the stair.

Medic looked down at his blood-coated fingernails. He sighed, then looked up to Heavy with solemn eyes.

"Bring everyone to zhe infirmary. I'll explain it zhere."