The first thought to enter his head upon waking up was 'Oh mein gott, I'm so comfy. It's so good to be in a nice warm bed for once.'
The second thought swiftly followed, as if realizing exactly what the first was.
'What in the world did I do last night and where am I? '
The Medic finally opened his left eye, his right still covered in gauze. He was fully tempted to stretch himself out to his full length, and sigh contently at the initial feeling of having a full nights sleep in the warm, soft bed, but he became aware of something restricting him, and not only the sling around his arm.
Warm breath circled his ear, and the brunette felt something large and warm curl closer to him.
He was in a bed. He didn't have a bed.
Scheiße.
Heavy.
Then it came flooding back to him, echoing behind his good, glasses-less eye.
Fighting, healing, not dying, talking to RED Spy, outsmarting BLU Spy, Heavy telling him he needed sleep, and making him take his bed.
He had to admit though, his friend was goddamn warm, especially when the older of the two shifted in his sleep, wrapped an arm around his slim waist and pulled the German a little closer to his sleeping form.
He heard the man shift, and he assumed, wake up, before the larger sat up a little.
" . . . . . . Doktor. . . .?"
Heavy couldn't see his friends eyes to tell is he was awake or not, the brunettes back to his stomach and the eye he would have been able to see was covered in the gauze.
Medic felt a finger poke his back and let out a chuckle, and tilted his head to the man, still unable to see.
"Are you avake?"
A smirk played on his lips, before he turned his head back.
"Nein."
A low laugh came from the Russian, who petted a brown-haired head, before sitting up completely, about to slide off of the double bed.
"Come on, Medic, is time for vake up again. Or . . . do I have to finish pillow fight?"
His answer came in the form of the warm cushion that he had been laying on hitting the back of his hairless head.
A smug look of triumph seemed to stick upon the brunettes face as he and his friend walked to the breakfast room.
"You know I vas going easy on you because you are hurt."
"You are just angry because I von, even with a broken arm und vone eye."
The larger of the two only gave a slight shove to the smaller, making him stumble on purpose, both chuckling.
About to retaliate, both the Medic and his Heavy froze as a girlish squeal echoed from behind the closed doors of the breakfast room.
Upon opening the door, both the weapons expert and the doctor found the Scout flailing and shouting, pointing to something that appeared to be invisible and running around into what seemed to be the absolute corners of the room.
"Kill it! Oh my god, kill it, kill it!" Scout shouted, flailing and grabbing his bat, about to swing straight down upon the creature before the Medic stepped in.
Medic had seen whatever it was that the Scout was threatening before Heavy had, and blocked the down-coming bat with his broken arm, not even flinching, his face hard and set and shadowed. The teenager took a step back, eyes wide at the elder, especially when the German pointed a finger to his face, glaring.
"Nein."
It was simple, but the boy lowered the weapon, both he and Heavy staring as Medic knelt to the thing in the corner.
A small, dark-furred rat lay scuttling at the walls, as if trying to climb up and away from the skinny beast that had attempted murder upon it.
The Russian watched in absolute fascination as his friend knelt, and gently scooped the creature into his pale hands, cooing lightly and running a finger over its heaving back, the rodent panting from fear.
"You've scared zhe poor little zhing half to death, you Tier." The doctor glared at the Scout, petting the rats' fur lightly and his German coming through, before threateningly nearing the boy. "I do not vish to see anyzing innocent in zhis base hurt ever again, you hear me? Zhere is enough suffering out zhere on zhe battlefield; ve don't need anymore in here, especially to something that has done nozhing to any of us."
Scout nodded dumbly, silent and scared by the ball of fur in his untwitching hands, but more so of his angry elder.
Facing the Heavy, Medic smiled, as if nothing had happened.
"Herr Heavy, vould you mind saving me some breakfast? I zhink I should go give mein kleiner Freund a place to live, and check on mein arm." The doctor chuckled, looking down at the tiny animal and grinning when two beady eyes glinted up at him, and Heavy nodded, smiling to see his doctor happy at something, despite his anger before.
"Da, Doktor, no problem."
Not twenty minutes later, the large Russian crept into the infirmary, silent, the doctors back to him as his sat on the gurney.
"Doktor-"
The man leapt a mile, startled as he turned half-way to face the man, realizing his friend had brought him breakfast. A plate sat beside the giant of a man, four triangles of buttered toast upon the porcelain, and the German smiled. His comrade knew him too well.
Turning back to whatever he was doing, the short-haired man spoke, and the Russian could hear the humor in his voice.
"You startled me, kamerade, but danke for bringing me mein food."
The older smiled. He secretly enjoyed seeing the serious, quiet doctor be flustered and sometimes confused. It was almost adorable. He heard a quiet squeak from the physicians pale hands, and Heavy remembered the rat.
"So, vhat is going to happen to tiny baby rat?"
The doctor let out a laugh "Oh, I'm keeping him, my friend. Zhe poor zhing must be scared vitless. . .and he seems to have become qvite taken vith me."
Heavy watched in amusement as the brownish-black furred rodent scurried up the rolled-up-sleeved arm, and ended up upon the mans shoulder, where the creature sat and settled, giving a tiny squeak as the German turned to his friend and leant against his desk.
"Its not like I can let zhe little guy go. He could be killed on zhe battlefield without any of us noticing. And it's not like I don't have zhe space." The man indicated to the large infirmary, before taking one of his pieces of toast, chewing thoughtfully.
"I suppose I need to zhink of a name for you, ja?" He ripped off a tiny corner of the bread, handing it to the animal and grinning when it took it and also ate.
"Vhat about Einstein?"
"Excuse me?"
"A name for tiny rat. He is smart, brave rat. Einstein!" The Russian grinned. A clever name for a clever pet of a clever man. Medic let out a laugh, handing the rat another chunk of the toast.
"How about Zalker?"
"Jenson?"
"Hmm . . . . Vhat abouuut. . . .Winzig?" The German smiled softly, rubbing the pad of a finger on the spot between the rodents' two fleshy ears.
"Vhat does zhat mean?"
"Is German for 'small' or 'tiny'. I zhink it suits him."
"You can call him 'Ziggy' for short!" Heavy laughed a little. It was nice, having this friendship. They could share jokes, do stupid stuff, not feel awkward about anything. . . . It was . . . nice. He had never had this kind of friendship with anyone, even when back in Russia.
"Ja, I zhink I like zhat. Ziggy." The German grinned, taking the ball of fur and placing him upon the desk, before taking some more toast, biting into it. "I'm sure he und ze doves vill get along well."
"I hope so, Doktor. By the way. . ." The Heavy stood, and poked the doctor on the chest.
"Vhen you going to heal your arm and eye?"
"I-I vas going to give it zome time, you know, let it heal by itzelf."
"Doktor, ve have no battle today, but vhat about tomorrow? Or day after? You need to heal, and get rest."
The Medic gave a little noise that came from the back of his throat, looking away, and Heavy placed his large hands on the slim shoulders, making the younger look at him through his good eye.
"Doktor, I know it is hard to be healing people and fighting, I know you have a lot more vork than most of us do, but zhats vhy you need to heal. You need to learn to use zhe Medi-Gun more. How are ve supposed to vork in battle and vin if we do not have you? Ve cannot vin without you, you are backbone of team."
A stroke of guilt slid across the doctors sharp features, and he opened his mouth to speak, before Heavy took a step back and towards the mounted gun.
"You need to use her." A thick finger pointed at the healing machine, and Medic gave a low sigh, his visible eye flicking between the larger man and the weapon.
"Ja. . . Yes. . . I zuppose you are right, mein Heavy." A brief smile flitted across the brunettes face. "Ve are a family after all. Imagine vhat would happen if I vasn't here." The German chuckled lowly, moving towards the weapons expert and flicking a few switches, the gun coming to life and ready to work.
Giving the taller man a fleeting smile, he clicked one last switch before being engulfed in warm red rays of healing energy.
The odd sensation of the bone in his arm crackling back together was on he hoped he didn't have to feel again anytime soon.
If a stranger were to look in, it probably would have seemed odd; a giant, bald man lovingly and obsessively cleaning a minigun, erupting into fits of loud laughter from the jokes a small, slim man was telling, who was equally cleaning his weapon, a rat on one shoulder that was the same shade fur as his dark ebony-chestnut hair, and a pure ivory dove on the other shoulder, both animals curled up and asleep.
Medic stretched and leant back on the sofa, tilting his body so his legs were laying over the other mans and Sascha, and the Heavy shot a fake glare, poking the doctor lightly under the leg, making the younger jolt lightly with a yelp.
They sat in the living room, which was busy for it only being midday, and only the Sniper and the Engineer missing from the room, both catching up on their own chores and work.
Scout seemed to be avoiding the doctor, perhaps because of his new pet that lay sleeping on his shoulder, but he and the Pyro seemed to be locked in a game of 'Lets-gossip-and-point-at-the-other-team-members-until-they-notice'.
The Spy was distracted and absent-minded, watching the Soldier and Demomans game of snooker while flicking his butterfly knife, the sharp clacking of the balls, cues and sides of the table not deterring his artistic flipping and twirling.
"Hey, Medic. What's that thing on your shoulder?" The Soldier asked, looking up from under his helmet and over his game, noticing the bundle of fur.
"His name is Winzig, Herr Soldier."
"Oh my god, you named it, Doc?" Came from Scout, interrupting, horrified, and the physician looked over at him.
"Scout, I am a doctor. It is my job to take care of those that need me, and that doesn't exclude animals. All ze birds I have in mein infirmary are all doves zhat I have found injured, und zhis rat was one you vere going to kill. I don't care vhat anyvone says. He stay vith me."
"Zhe doctor is a good man, Scout." Came from the Spy, who hadn't looked up from his weapon. "I wouldn't do anyzhing to annoy him, or you next trip to his medical bay may be your last, hm?" the Frenchman smirked, and looked up, eyes going from the disgruntled teenager to the amused German.
"Danke, Herr Spy."
"Not at all."
"I think baby Scout is just scared rat vill end up inside him, like leetle bird does sometimes." Heavy commented, still focused upon Sascha, and the Medic let out a laugh.
"Ja, how about zhat, Scout? Next time you end up vounded and angry vith me, I'll sneak Ziggy into your intestinal tract somevhere, ja?"
"Doc, if you were on the other team, I hope you know that you would be the first guy I'd want to kill."
"You vouldn't get the chance."
"Oh and why's that, deutch-bag?"
"Baby Scout vould be dead before he hits floor." Came from Heavy, and he earned a few chuckles from the rest of his family, especially his doctor.
Yes, a family. A murderous, killing, insulting family. But family nonetheless.
"You sure you don't vant my bed again?"
"Ah, I could not burden you like zhat again, my friend. Besides, I think Ziggy vill end up sleeping close to me. Imagine if we slept together and you ended up rolling over und crushing him."
The two laughed, sat in the infirmary yet again, the doctor tugging off his red tie as his friend held the small rat, trying not to squish or scare him.
"He seems not to mind me. I think he likes me holding him."
Medic turned and grinned.
"I zhink it's because you have big hands. Lots of space for him to move."
A single, gloveless hand scooped up the rodent from the other mans, and the creature swiftly scurried up the Medic's arm, sitting upon his shoulder again, a habit Ziggy appeared to want not to break.
The Heavy gave a soft smile, watching the usually calm, calculating doctor play with the small animal energetically. He looked happy, but he always did with animals around him.
"Doktor is good man. I am glad he has leetle rat now."
"Hm?" Medic looked up. "Oh, danke, Herr Heavy. I'm glad you think so."
"I'm glad mean Scout did not sqvuish tiny rat."
"I-"
"Rat makes Doktor happy. And that makes me happy."
Heavy stood, and patted the brunette on the hair – which he noticed he had been doing more and more- and turned to leave.
"I zhink ve both need sleep, Doktor."
"Oh . . . . Ja . . . ve do."
"Good night, мой друг".
"Ja. . . .Ja, gute Nacht, my friend."
Heavy stopped at the door.
"Do not forget; big battle tomorrow. I vake you up again?"
"You just vant the chance to beat me with pillows again, don't you?"
A grin upon both faces.
"Da, Doktor."
