[I know it's a bit late to say, but better than nothing. I don't OWN Team Fortress 2.]

A wiry figure was mindlessly throwing pebbles from top of a hill. This repetitiveness bore him out and eventually he lay down flat on his back. Looking at the orange hue on the sky, Scout touched his nose and hissed in intense pulse of pain. His shirt was messy from blood that he wiped off of his face, but that didn't make him feel any better. There was no way that Scout was going to forgive Soldier. He didn't deserve a blow from Soldier for a silly joke. It wasn't like he only teased Soldier as a gay man. Spy didn't hit him, so what right did Soldier have? Scout really didn't want to go back to Teufort, but the night was creeping in and temperature was dropping fast. Night time meant that Soldier would be roaming around for one of his paranoiac patrol, and Scout didn't want to look like a loser, all alone like a lost puppy. He may as well visit Medic for a shot of medigun.

Scout realised how far he ran away from the base because it took longer than he thought to walk back. Feeling quite tired, he just barged into the empty infirmary with a loud bang. The faint giggle that Scout thought he heard immediately ceased. He gazed beyond the infirmary, where Medic's laboratory was and wondered if he misheard. Scout tip toed across the room to get to the closed door that led to the lab.

"AH HA, I caught you… Oh, it's just you two."
Scout's spine shuddered in ecstasy as he whammed the door open, but he was disappointed to see Heavy and Medic staring blankly at him. Heavy was sitting on a work stool with his boring Russian book and Medic was on his desk with papers sprawled out. The suspicion was still in Scout's heart because he sure heard something. There was nothing was going on, but he really couldn't tell what he was missing.

"Caught us doing vhat, Herr Scout?"
Medic returned his eyes on files under him and began to scribble. Heavy also continued to read, or pretended to continue.

"Well, uh… What's…? Yeah! What's Heavy doing here? Shouldn't he be on that butcher bed with his stomach open?"
Maybe that was it. Not seeing Heavy as a test subject without any blood pumping out was out of the ordinary to Scout.

"Zhat happens at day-time usually. Also, I don't 'alvays' perform zhe surgery on Herr Heavy."
"What's he doing down here, then?"
"Upstairs is noisy. Doktor's room is good to read. Thanks to leetle Scout."
When Heavy put emphasise his name, Scout slipped out a nervous smile. He was about to throw some more questions, but couldn't think of one. It seemed like there really was nothing going on. One more question wouldn't hurt though.

"So… there is nothing f- I mean, nothing going on?"
Scout refrained to use the word 'fag' after the lesson he had this morning. He didn't want to piss the doctor off before his nose was sorted out. A small amount of sweat seeped out on his back when Medic took his glasses off and gave him a tired look. Heavy raised his eyebrows, but didn't take his eyes off from his book.

"Nein. If you don't vant your nose fixed, get out."
"Whoa ha ha. Alright, alright! Take it easy, doc. Just zap me and I will be out in a jiffy."
Since there was no use of wasting his time here with these boring old farts, he walked over to the medigun.

"Ve don't need to use it to treat your trivial injury. Sit zhere."
"Aw, come on man-"
"Sit. Zhere."
The younger man obeyed his elder and sat on the operating bed. A soft yelp escaped from his mouth when Medic dabbed an alcoholic cotton ball on his scratched nose. When Medic's hand reached out on Scout's face, he closed his eyes, bracing himself from more pain.

"All done. Now leave."
There was nothing other than folded white gauze taped on the injured area. When Scout stood up to complain, Medic nodded at Heavy.

"Is that all- Hey! Let me down, fatcake!"
"Your nose is fractured, but not dislocated or broken. Don't get vater on your scars and stop getting hit on zhe face. Zhat is all. Gute nacht and don't try to come again."
Medic's words were fast paced but coherent. The Russian lifted Scout by grabbing his torso and placed him gently out of the infirmary. Scout opened his mouth to shout but Heavy closed the door on him. The younger man grabbed the knob that wouldn't turn and let out an annoyed grunt. There was no way that he could eavesdrop on the fishy pair far away from his earshot.

"Did you lock zhe door to infirmary?"
"Da."
Medic chuckled and moved closer to the bigger figure. The practitioner slid his hands on the sides of Heavy to caress, instead of surgically break his ribs. A pair of massive hands rested on the shoulder that was covered with white gown. Heavy smiled down at his little Doktor and swayed their bodies gently.

"Do you zhink he noticed?"
"Nyet. But I don't care. Scout thinks everyone is gay."
The familiar smirk crept back as Medic reminisced on what happened this morning. Scout should have been more careful and being a boy was no excuse. If Medic was in Soldier's position, he would have done the same. Well, not exactly the same, but his way of getting Scout back would have been more methodical. The boy learned his lesson and it put Medic into a good mood. He buried his face deeper into Heavy's shoulder and smelled the musky fabric. The feeling of those big bear arms wrapping around him was a sense of comfort that his wife couldn't. The gentle stroke he felt on his back didn't have sharp nails that eventually backstabbed him. This relationship wasn't a betrayal to his late wife because that woman filed a divorce paper after she had a go with the enemy Demo. Fuck them. He wanted to stop thinking about those two and focus on his current lover. Heavy's smile grew wider when the German leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met and didn't part for a long time.

This relationship began to bloom after that massive group drinking they had few months ago. Medic was completely off his face, but he was so adamant on going back to his room when he couldn't even walk. Heavy was quite drunk as well and at limit of his control. He had to refuse when Medic asked for a shoulder.

"Vat? Zhis is ridiculous. I refuse to fall asleep wizh zhese imbeciles. Zhey vill mock me for sure. Nein, nein. Ich lasse mich nicht erpressen." [I refuse to be blackmailed.]
Medic grabbed on Heavy's shirt to pull himself up. Their eyes met for a second but Medic broke it off, thinking that asking Heavy to help him would be foolish. It was Medic's fault that the vodka was gone and maybe that is why Heavy didn't want to help him. Medic sighed in his own stupidity for fucking up another relationship of any form after his wife left him. He came down here because it was Heavy who invited him, but he shouldn't have stayed. He should just see Heavy on the battlefield, where they had a sure connection as a comrade who shared life and death together. There was no worse shame other than making yourself look like a fool in front of someone you were interested in.

"Ja, I understand. Don't vorry, kamared. I vill pay your vodka back. Or vait till Oktoberfest if you like bier as vell."
Medic wanted to smooth out the crinkles he made on Heavy's shirt, but his perception was fogged due to intoxication and ended up shoving Heavy in the chest. Heavy wanted to help and didn't take any notice in that little push. He just didn't want to touch Medic and lose his control that he held throughout the night. His blue eyes followed Medic's staggering movement making a shaky ascension. If his German bird was going to make one stumble, Heavy would dash up to lend him a shoulder. Just one trip. This may sound sadistic but he really wished the German to fall and allow Heavy to make a self-satisfying excuse to grab him. Come on, Doktor. Lose your coordination. Any time now.

"Let me help you."
Medic thought he was going to break his glasses by face planting on the edge of the stairs, but a huge hand dug under his arm to save him. Medic couldn't hide how glad he was and hoped that Heavy didn't see his childish grin.

"Vhy did you invite me?"
Alcohol was truly devil's drink because it made him say things that he wouldn't normally say. He was going to regret this tomorrow when he becomes sober, but right now he didn't care. Heavy raised his eyebrows in concentration because he wasn't clear in the head either and walking with another man's weight on him was harder than he thought. The Russian's head was busy making a reason that sounded less touchy-feely.

"Soldier and Scout interrupted my reading."
"Tsk, zhose dummkopfs don't know how to appreciate literature. You can alvays come down to mein laboratory if you vant to read. But zhat doesn't answer mein question."
It would be more than just a pleasure to have someone else with him other than Archimedes. Since he frequently asked Heavy to come down for surgeries, he thought it wasn't out of ordinary to have a bloodless and gore-free hang out.

"Because other men get drunk too easily."
"…still doesn't make any sense."
"I wanted to have someone to be less drunk with me."
"I have obviously failed, zhen."
As Medic hung his head low in shame, Heavy swayed due to the extra pressure. Medic murmured an apology and put his eyes back on the track.

"It's okay. Nobody managed to stay awake with my vodka in them."
"You are too kind."
They shared compliments to one another and discussed on authors they have read so far. Since it was Heavy who led the way, they walked past Medic's room and headed straight toward Heavy's.

"Danke. See you at zhe laboratory."
"Da. Good night, Doktor."
"Nacht."
They bid a brief farewell and closed the door, not realising that it wasn't Medic's room. Heavy walked to the toilet to take a leak and hummed lightly. The night didn't go as he planned, but it still was more than just good enough for Heavy. When he came back to his room and lay on his bed, it felt smaller than usual and smelt strong of vodka. He was too sleepy to care though.

Everything was a teensy cloudy without his glasses when Medic woke up a bit after 5 in the morning. His head hurt and mouth was parched. He wanted to move his hands but something thick was on top of his arms. Medic let out a gasp when he found himself in Heavy's arms like a pillow and traced his blurry memory back to last night. He wanted to go back to his own room and Heavy helped. They had a good talk and Medic blatantly asked Heavy to visit him in the laboratory. Or was it before the conversation? He didn't know which order they had these talks, and this annoyed him greatly. Everything seemed out of order. He wondered where he found the courage to ask a Heavy to come and have a visit in his workplace without any valid business reason. Fearing that Soldier may burst in to remind them of his stupid morning training, Medic wriggled out of bigger man's grasp and walked slowly back to his room with least creak on the wooden floor as possible. Medic wasn't sure if the warmth that Heavy gave him followed around, or he was just blushing madly like an idiotic school girl.

The obnoxiously brash voice of the American was soon heard and Medic rushed outside because he couldn't bear to see Heavy at this moment. They didn't ignore or acknowledge each other's presence during the exercise and breakfast, but it still felt awkward. The physician ended up sitting alone in his laboratory with his head buried in his hands. He thought about continuing with his paperwork from last night. Would it surely take his mind off from all these shenanigans? He wasn't so sure. He doubted that Heavy would actually come down after all the discomfort that Medic caused, and this room was the lair that he spent most of his days off from the battlefield. Writing anything down without his glasses on wasn't a big problem, but he couldn't do any of spilling guts and mixing dangerous chemicals which were far more entertaining. He will have to ask Heavy for his glasses back tomorrow or someday before their next battle. Any day but today where he still felt jittery. He could feel the hangover kicking in and his concentration was slowly faltering. He really didn't want to be slack at his workplace, but his body was too limp to get up. It was after two hours when he woke up and only half refreshed.

The first thing he noticed was his glasses resting on top of paper piles, and Heavy sitting on a stool with Dostoyevsky on his hands. Medic stared at this friendly intruder and wondered if he should say anything. They could have talked about their accident, or anything to break this silence. Neither of them knew why being mute was better right now, but it was more comfortable than bothering to make a conversation out of courtesy. Medic offered Heavy a place to read peacefully and Heavy accepted. It was as simple as that. They talked and bantered on the battlefield, but this room was like a whole another dimension to them. Other than sharing sets of automatic greetings like 'hello' and 'good night', this odd ritual in the laboratory went on for a week. There was one night where Heavy's voice rang through the space other than scribbles and rustles of pages being flipped.

"I have finished this book."
Medic didn't take Heavy for a fool like everybody else did, so he tried to find a meaning behind that sentence.

"Is it recommendable?"
"It's long. Gives you time to think."
Was he saying 'you' as in both of them or just Medic?

"I vill have a read in zhe future."
"I can give you one book to read now."
Heavy stood up and walked over to the desk that Medic sat on. It was as if the invisible line between them was snapped away like a feeble string. Medic spun the fountain pen on his left hand to help him figure out what is going on.

"I value your opinion in books, Herr Heavy. But your hands are empty."
"It's here."
Heavy points at his heart and stared at Medic with unwavering gaze. The bespectacled pair of eyes was shaking in confusion.

"There is something in here that I hid from everybody, including you and me. I read myself from last week and I like it. I don't hide away like coward, so I let you know."
Heavy took Medic's right hand and grabbed it as if they were having a hand shake. It may look a bit weird way to confess his feelings, but he didn't want to offend Medic by treating him like a lady. This was a man to man conversation.

"I like Medic. It's different from liking Sasha, but you are more important than her. You are more than comrade and friend. I want to protect you, just like you protect me. We make good team and I trust you. I would love to hug you, but not without your permission."
Medic froze as if he has stopped functioning. His grip on Heavy's hand loosened and Heavy took this as a sign to give his crush a space. He took the book that he hardly read and stepped towards the door.

"It's okay if Medic doesn't feel that way. I have allowed you to read me and there is no shame in that. If you want to be friends, I can do that."
That last bit was a lie, but it was better than losing him as a tactical support out on battlefield and a good friend who shared the same interest in reading. The giant waited for a response, but nothing heard behind his back. He dragged his legs towards the exit and wondered where else he could read.

"Vait."
Heavy turned around and tried to suppress down hope welling up in his heart. Medic tried to walk in confidence to hide his nervousness, but made him look like one of those Nazis doing a ridiculously rigid army marches.

"I zhink zhere is a misprint in your book."
Before Heavy could say anything, Medic wrapped his arms around that wide abdomen and squeezed tightly. Smelling the bigger man this close took him back to the pleasant surprise of this morning.

"You did hug me vithout permission, if you can remember."
"…so that wasn't dream?"
This moment would have remained as a beautiful memory if Heavy hadn't lift Medic up and spun him around until he nearly spewed up. Everything worked out between them and all forms of affections came in naturally. Before they went any further, Medic suggested to keep this relationship a secret. It wasn't because he was ashamed, but a relationship like this could mean losing his and Heavy's respect amongst his teammates. He thought about bearing it through till this war ended and live together in one of their mother countries.

Their plan was working so far, and even if Scout accused them, no one would believe him after the incident of this morning. It was thrilling in a way to have something this big hidden perfectly. Medic felt an excited shiver as if he was sliding a scalpel through an uncut membrane. Heavy planted one last kiss on Medic's forehead, but was hesitant to let him go.

"You must go earlier zhan me. It vill raise less suspicion, remember?"
"I know. Good night, dove."
Heavy really didn't understand why they had to be all hush-hush about this, but as long as Medic loved him back and wasn't ashamed of their relationship, he agreed with their secrecy. Medic replied a good night and sighed in happiness as he watched Heavy leaving.

The sunlight stung Demo's eye. The warmth of Engie's dispenser prototype kept the Scotsman from dying of hypothermia. Demo looked around and found himself lying alone in Engie's garage. Since he was used to having a light headache, getting up wasn't much of a hassle. On the way back to the main entrance, he found Scout crouching down in front of a curtained window as if he was trying to attain x-ray vision through the brown fabric. A brilliant idea popped in Demoman's head.

"Ka-boooooom!"
"AHHHHHH Oh my God, you moron!"
The result of his war roar made Scout squeal out his trademark shriek. Demo dropped on the ground and laughed uncontrollably till a speckle of tear seeped out from the corner of his eye.

"Ohhhhh ho ho ho ho where are ye going, wee lamb?"
He was about to ask what Scout was doing there, but the fast runner dashed out as if he had to hide himself. Demo stared at the window and wondered which room it led to and realised it was the medical laboratory. It may not seem like it, but Demo knew Teufort inside out due to his profession as a demolition expert. He just slumbered in the basement most of the time because he bloody can. It was his job to know which place provided a better angle for his bombs to bounce around, and if they had to evacuate in the future he would have to plant explosives to make this building sink. The hunger cut his thought short. Scratching the short fro, Demo stopped staring at the window and proceeded to the kitchen. He missed a light ripple of the curtain caused by a red gloved hand.

[The reference of Scout's shrieking can be heard from

w/images/7/7f/Scout_sf12_ ?t=20121027071935]