Author's Note:

cheetana: Ah, thank you so much! I am always worrying about how I'm portraying them. I really don't like when fanfictions are OOC—it seems more like some strange whim of a fangirl rather than something that could actually happen is probably why. Ah, really? That's good, I'm glad the accents are passable. I looked up how to fake a French accent for it (and every time I type what the Spy is saying I have an urge to watch Blackadder the Third..the episode with the French revolutionary. That show was great..) haha. And I'll probably be looking up Russian and German ones too, but I also listened to a lot of the sound clips of them talking and whatnot.. I really appreciate your review! And thank you for being my beta!

Goldenphoenix3000: thank you! I'm really trying to get the characters right. I hate reading a fanfiction where the characters are all OOC. ..which is also why I pull a lot of the lines from what they say in game hahah. I don't get it, people tend to overlook my stuff a lot on FP too OTL but then again there I don't really read other people's stories.. but here I do. Oh well. Eventually, maybe, people will start reading it… hopefully hahah. Maybe I should change the description of it… I never was good at those. Thank you so much, I really do try!

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, but at the beginning I respond to reviews (as shown in last chapter and above). I really appreciate you guys taking the time to review, so please do! Reviewing is literally what keeps my stories going. Your interest keeps me interested. :D

-Chapter 3-

"Get behind me, doktor!" Heavy called out, upon hearing that Medic was fully charged. He couldn't shake that encounter with the Spy from his memory, but they were in a war. He was used to the threat of dying. But he was pretty sure he could kill anyone who thought of trying to kill him first. It wasn't that that bothered him. It wasn't even the Spy's lack of fear—everyone feared Heavy! He was Heavy weapons guy. Were they blind, could they not see Sasha? It was definitely the Spy's relationship with Medic that... troubled the Russian man. Before he had been... simple. He ate, slept and killed. What more could a man want? Oh yes, he loved life out here. Whether the war was for a good cause or not, whether he was on the wrong side or not, Heavy loved his job. It was the reason he got out of bed in the morning.

Issues with sexuality hadn't really plagued Heavy ever. He was a simple man. Eat, sleep, kill. That had been enough to make him happy. It barely registered in his mind; it had been a click somewhere in the back of his mind, past his cravings for sandviches, past schedule of cleaning, inspecting and doing maintenance on Sasha and Natascha, past his blood-lust, even past his nostalgia for mother Russia—way back there something clicked. His feelings for Medic weren't normal, but he attributed it to the Medic being his friend, not that he was in love. He didn't have time for love. However, some days when Soldier was yelling at Scout in a meeting for interrupting him or something of the sort... he would notice how nice his hair looked that day, how soft it looked, how tired his friend appeared. And all he wanted to do was to hold his friend—that was when he realized it wasn't normal. The daydreams got worse at times, to the point where all he wanted to do was confess to the doctor his feelings, and have his friend console him. Perhaps that part wasn't thought through so much.

There was one thing Heavy had known. The Medic had had a wife. A very womanly wife with all the lady parts attached. They'd even had children—though the children were grown up by now, according to Medic—which could only mean that they had been intimate. In Heavy's mind, there was no way that the woman would cheat on Medic; the man was too wonderful for that. If he should die, he would be the only person Heavy would ever mourn from his team. He loved his doctor! And yet, his doctor had been married to a woman. The thought of it made Heavy want to punch some itty bitty men. He had no chance to express his feelings to Medic without his heart being crushed. Up until that point Heavy had only thought that his heart was meant to pump blood; meeting the Medic had changed that. Oh, how his heart ached whenever he thought of his doctor as only ever being his friend.

Before then falling in love had been for everyone else; he had been sure he would never be so silly as to let such a weak emotion in... and yet there he stood on the battlefield, a physical shield to the man he loved, as bullets flew from both sides. He could feel the power that the medigun gave him; he felt invincible. However, Heavy knew all too well that he was far from invincible unless he was ubercharged. He didn't understand the medigun or the physics behind it, all he knew was it healed him constantly, made the damage less noticeable—all so he could kill the other team for longer. And he loved it.

Seeing a scout on the far side, trying to make his way over, Heavy directed his aim at the boy, laughing heartily as he heard the other call out in pain. "Cry some more!" he called out, his voice amazingly loud enough to be heard over his minigun's constant noise as it spewed bullets. The BLU Pyro lay on the other side, a victim to both Heavy and the Sniper, the latter finishing off the weakened Pyro when he had gotten out of range from Heavy. Today was a good day, he could tell. He would stuff the other team so full of lead they'd be more metal than flesh. At the very least he would kill someone else.

Killing the BLUs would keep his mind off of the day before. Off of the fact that he had been completely wrong about Medic. But why would the Medic choose that weasel of a Spy? It was infuriating! He didn't care about how charming he was or handsome he must have been under that mask; the Spy was a slippery man. He was a backstabber. It would only lead to the Spy hurting his beloved doctor. Then again, he knew he was jealous; jealous of the time the Spy and Medic must have spent alone together, whatever they did together. He got jealous when the Medic healed someone else, calling for him even when he didn't need the healing. Perhaps that was why Medic hadn't told him about such an affair. But he had a right to know! Didn't he?

He growled, half in annoyance over the subject, half in annoyance that the BLU Soldier rocket-jumped out of his way. That man was quick and tricky! Were all soldiers bat-shit insane? How could rocket-jumping possibly be safe? He'd seen soldiers killing themselves doing that before. "Run, coward!" he called out after the BLU Soldier who seemed to be retreating.

The day before he had been lying in the bed, doing nothing while the Soldier held his little meeting. They had been planning an attack in a few days—only the BLUs had decided that today was better, apparently—and.. whatever else went on in those meetings. Heavy mostly found himself thinking about three things: Sandvich, Sasha and why the Medic looked so tired that day. He didn't take anything away from those meetings when he was at them—no, he knew his job. Shoot any BLU that moved. It was pretty simple. The fact that he wasn't there didn't make much of a difference really. It left him alone, though, with nothing to do. If only Medic were there, he could at least watch him as he worked...

But now he sat there, alone. The bare walls, the ticking of the clock, the rough sheets… it was all too much. He was back up within a few minutes, walking around as he had right after the Spy had left, but soon even that was tiring and he was back down on the bed, closing his eyes. Maybe he could just sleep his way to being discharged. It was possible to sleep for that long right? If it had been any other person telling him to rest for a few days he would have just disregarded what they said... but it was Medic who told him.

He didn't know how long he had laid there, but when Heavy opened his eyes he heard a cart rolling towards the room. His heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened. Was it an itty bitty cart with a bomb on it? He loved those carts—but only when he was pulling one to the other base. But before he knew it he saw the Medic rolling just a regular cart in with something he knew and loved.

"Sasha!"

He glanced around, hearing a muffled voice. And suddenly the medigun was cutting out, its rays not on him. Perhaps the RED Pyro needed help, but he saw Pyro just standing there, not looking hurt at all and was actually charging toward something... someone behind him. He turned around, seeing his Medic on the ground and a Spy quickly cloaking. He shot at the masked man, but the other was already gone. "Oh this is bad," he said, quickly going over to Medic. The Pyro was running around, trying to set the cloaked Spy on fire, but Heavy had more important things to do. His Medic was not allowed to die on him. And luckily Medic seemed to be staggering to sit up. Pyro must have tipped off Medic about that Spy—he'd have to thank Pyro later—causing that BLU bastard to miss as the Medic moved to look. Otherwise his little man would not be moving at all. What a relief.

"Medic," he called out, shifting to hold Sasha with one hand and extending the other to his Medic. They were in BLU territory and they most certainly had to get out quickly for Medic to have any chance of surviving. So without thinking, once he had the Medic close enough, Heavy heaved the man onto his shoulder making a break for their side. As much as he loved killing BLUs, he wanted his doctor alive and so he ran as fast as he could—which, admittedly, was still slower than when the Engineer took a stroll around behind the sentries—aiming to get himself and his Medic back to their base alive. That was more important than some stupid briefcase.