[auther's note] translation follow at the end.
Warning, large text ahead ^^ I hope this isn't too boring, suddenly I felt that I need something like plot. I'll do my best to make the next chapter more slashy, but I won't make a promise that I succeed, in short, I'll try to try xD [/end auther's note]
Snowbowl 4 – shootin' stars
Breakfast was a dull affair. Almost half of the men did look like they had stayed awake all night, their eyes bloodshot and tired. They knew their reasons, the rest was left in the dark, but even those with a more self-centred personality felt the tension, although they chose to ignore it. If something wasn't shared with the team, it wasn't important for the team. Usually Spy would find out anyway, sooner or later. There were more serious matters to deal with. First of all, Scout and Demoman shared today's cooking duties, not actually what could be called a lucky start of the day. The monotonous diet of canned food and by now hard bread was a challenge in itself. With Demo's individual touch, probably caused by his almost destroyed sense of taste thanks to his constant abuse of alcohol, and Scout's absolute inability to wipe up something edible at all, the culinary adventure was everything but not tolerable for breakfast.
Even Heavy stopped after a few bites, shoving his plate away from him. "Who made cooking plan was stupid, should eat all leftovers." he growled, passing a sharp look at the Soldier who failed to notice, eating his whole serving, also failing to notice the peculiar taste, his thoughts circling around their options only.
Cleaning duty was delayed. The last 30 minutes were enough for the sky to darken, the temperature fell even more and the wind increased. So the dirty dishes were set aside and the doors closed, leaving them with nothing else to do than maintaining their weapons, surrounded by a warm and gloomy light, with the little camp fire as the only light source. The howling of the raging storm didn't help to lighten their general mood and so they sat in silence.
Soldier watched his team for a while. Those silent days happened more often lately, creepy and awkward, so unlikely the usual swanky, boisterous but good natured behaviour of this lot. It was about time, high time, the tough got going again.
The second time today he cleared his throat until each of them interrupted his current work and paid attention to him.
"Ladies! We have to face the fact that we cannot stay here forever..." he began and a babel of voices broke loose.
"Firgot ye fact, wi gotta git our sirry asses outta here before dine..!" A shout from Demoman.
"Travellin' in this fuckin' cold? Gotta be kidding me, ya old fart!" A protest from Scout.
"Yeah right, let's just grow some wings and fly away." A sneer from Sniper.
"Idea is good! Let's get out soon as possible!" A claim from Heavy.
They stopped for a second, looking at each other but before Soldier had a chance to continue his speech they went on again, shouting, complaining, mocking each others objections or suggestions.
Only Pyro and Medic kept out of the argument. Pyro's face like always unreadable, hence his mask, while Medic was calmly watching the Soldier, who soon took part in the argument, trying to drown the other voices with his own, when finally the Engineer interrupted, his own face showing a mixture of worry and amusement. He didn't even shout. In fact, he spoke with a lower volume than the others, but his calm, sharpened tone was so out of place, so different from the rest, that he easily caught their attention. They soon stopped the fight and listened.
"Here, buddies, let's get some things straight. We are stuck in the middle of nowhere, without information, without contact to the rest of the world. It's cold. That's the situation.
We don't want to die here, so we have to get out, sooner or later, that's what we want.
So far, so easy, but now it's gettin' complicated." He sighed. The list of the obstacles was long.
"Can't you just buil us something to get us out?" Scout asked, Demo and Heavy nodded in agreement.
Sighing again, Engineer continued. "Thought of that, too, o' course. It's like a darn puzzle always missing the final piece. Could build us a thing that looked like a car, got even them old tires lying around here, but ain't havin' all components for an engine. Can't build a plane or 'copter for all of us, not even for one, gotta admit that, even if I had an engine."
"So, dig tunnel we must then, right?" the others grinned at Heavy's little, silly joke, glad to relieve some of that anger and frustration.
"Oh, you think survival is a laughing matter, maggot?" Shaking his fist, Soldier was about to release another of his unique punishments, but Engineer pulled him back.
"What about the helicopter, there has to be a way to use that fuckin' thing..." Sniper threw in.
"Suggestin' wi shoot this thing from the sky?" Demoman gave a sarcastic laugh. "Waddya plan, laddie, heedshotting it like a giant dragonfly?"
"Fine! Take it you have a better idea, so let us in, please, mastermind!" the Australian retorted and another quarrel was about to start, but this time Soldier calmed them down in time.
"Sniper is onto something there, I think." His remark made the others turn their heads towards him. Of course everyone had considered something similar, at least every time the support helicopter was above their heads.
"Why haven't we thought of it before? Why don't we shoot that damn thing down?" asked the Scout with honest astonishment. Spy slapped him on the back of his head.
"Imbecile, you never think about les consequences, non?"
"Of course, the damn thing might explode, and everything's nada. And don't hit me, asshole!" he protested.
"This is one risk, correct." Engineer nodded. "Besides the risk to kill a not involved person."
"Who gives a fuck, we kill people all the time, who cares about one more... ouch! Stop that!" Angrily Scout glared at the Frenchmen.
"Taise-toi, chiard, and develop some ethics. Go on, Engineer, explain to le petit enfant."
"Damn right. We are mercenaries after all, and no crazy mass murderers. Anyway, there's another problem, we don't know WHY we are trapped here, if it was an accident..." He paused.
"...zen ve should have heard from our employers by now, nicht wahr? And vhen not, zen a dizappearing helicopter could alert zem. Maybe zey won't be all too happy wiz us. Iz zat vhat you are thinking, Herr Engineer?"
"Yes. That's what we have to take into account." answered Soldier instead. "A violent act could remind them of us, or alert them. Everyone is our enemy now..."
Engineer interrupted:"COULD be..."
With a puzzled look the veteran stopped, before he understood and continued.
"Everyone could be our enemy now, it's vital for our survival to be prepared for this possibility. Anyway, Engineer, please go on." He handed over to the man next to him.
"As a matter of fact, as much as I dislike the idea, I think, too, we have to high-jack the helicopter. I'm afraid the pilot could be injured or die, but as I see it we are in a desperate situation."
The other kept silent, all their faces showing agreement and disagreement at once. Proud as they might be, they knew their business was shady, and without clear codes of honour, moral and ethics their trade would deprave to a bloodstained chaos. But they also saw they were slowly running out of options.
"Who shall shoot down helicopter? Sasha strong enough, but is too high." conceded Heavy, albeit reluctantly.
"We need parts and that engine, and no sieve, even IF your girlfriend could reach the fuckin' clouds." Scout snapped, making sure he was out of Heavy's reach. But the Russian didn't pay attention to the boy. With a nod he urged Engineer to go on.
"Have thought 'bout that. With a bit of modification I could enlarge the range of Soldier's rockets here. Sure, they'd lose a lotsa power, but the odds are good that it's gonna work." Engineer drew some crinkled blueprints out of his pocket.
Sniper shook his head.
"I have a hunch you've already planned this stuff, no matter what we say anyway?" But the Texan only smiled.
"I tried to plan every thing possible since the train didn't come. Had nothing to do and thought this might come in handy some time sooner or later."
"Alors, sum it up, shall we? We shoot the 'elicopter down, you zee what you can build, and you build it le plus tôt possible, before zee ozers who might be les enemies arrive, oui?" Spy concluded.
"That's pretty much it, in a nutshell, Spah, yeah." The Engineer nodded.
"Bon. Mais, when shall zees facétie 'appen? Shall we proceed as soon as possible ou wait until spring?"
Soldier and Engineer both shrugged, and the Texan spoke again: "Any point of time has its advantages. Spring sounds good as the weather'd make things easier to handle, and travelling lotsa more convenient. But after all, we are in the middle of the wastelands, winter shouldn't be here from the beginning, so how can we be sure spring comes at all? Besides, at some point we don't know the provisions might stop..."
"Nun," the Medic coughed slightly, "the last flight vas due four days ago, in case you haven't noticed." Everybody stared at him. They hadn't kept track of time for a while at all, as they realized now.
"Well then, this settles it." Soldier stood up. "Engineer, bundle up, we go to the supply room, checking the rocket launcher, I want you to finish the job yesterday. Medic, Demo, you tag along and take stock of our provisions and equipment. The rest of you... fire up your tiny brains and report any idea of value to me ASAP. Oh, and clean this dump up, it smells like a puma cage in here.
"There, she's almost ready, ain't she a beauty?" Removing the sweat from his forehead with his gloved hand, Engineer pet the rocket launcher in front of him with a satisfied grin. The last two days he almost became desperate, as his plans didn't work out as they should, according to his prints. The cold had affected some of the components with an unexpected severity and he had to alter and tweak a thing or two, but in the end everything turned out as he hoped it would. 'What can I say, I am a genius after all.' His grin widened. He picked the weapon up, checked its weight. It was a lot heavier than before, a bit too heavy for him to handle with ease, but Soldier should be fine. 'John will love it.'.
"Don't waste zis food, Du Idiot." the Medic snarled at the Australian and snatched a large tin of canned beans from his hands. "Ve had breakfast two hours ago, vait until dinner, Vielfraß." He turned around and walked away, ignoring the Sniper's sulky stare piercing his back. The German had soon become a main source of annoyance. Most of the time he ignored the Sniper, not talking to him at all, sometimes they exchanged angry glares and sometimes the Medic was utterly nice, too nice. Those moments were the most scary, and Sniper didn't feel comfortable at all. He skipped most of his breakfast because he didn't feel hungry then. With a frown he noticed the return of the nagging headache. He didn't sleep well lately, sometimes not able to find a relaxing position at all, and when he managed, he didn't trust the sleeping sounds in the dark. But no, there was no way he was really scared, of course it was just the hunter inside his head who demanded him to be on his guard, nothing but reflex and instinct the Australian convinced himself. A dull pain hammering behind his forehead, his stomach growling he wasn't in the mood to argue with himself or the Medic anyway, so he decided to occupy the corner next to Pyro and Scout, who were busy accusing each other of cheating with their game of cards. Maybe he could find some rest now.
"C'me on, ald feer, gimme a hand."
Pyro made a muffled sound no normal man could have understood. After two years, Demoman, as the others, had gotten used to it.
"'course this will work, dun worry."
Together they somehow managed to carry six old tires at once. Although they had freed them from snow and ice the rubber was still hard. They wondered if those might work at all or if sand, heat and the cold had tired the material. This was a problem the engineer would have to solve, for now six old, porous tires were caught between the bodies of two men.
A distinctive burst of laughter like this could only belong to a man like Heavy. He didn't get tired of telling his team mates over and over again how Pyro and Demoman tried to carry six tires between them, looking like a mutant caterpillar, when Demoman slipped and all tires rolled first over Pyro and then down the hill. After the third time he retold the event the others rolled their eyes, but whenever it came to the part when one tyre hit the Spy in the back they joined the laughter. Pyro, Demo and Spy tried their best to ignore them.
"Kindsköpfe."
Medic ticked off another point on his list. Blankets, several kitchen knives and other cooking equipment, spare clothes, most of them as worn down as those on their bodies, three still working flash lights, seven not working...
He had been counting and recounting their resources since the morning. Of course there was enough junk they could leave behind. But with the items, tools, weapons in a good shape, the ones with a useful purpose and those that could be useful in the right hands were still far too much to take along. He wouldn't allow any argument about the food rations. And there was his medical equipment. Sure, it was unlikely he would have to execute an ambulant surgery, dental treatment or heal cases of scarlet fever or measles but who knew... "Man hat schon Pferde kotzen sehen..." No, he certainly would not tolerate any abridgements of his tools once they would leave. After all, this was his trade, and the others better accepted that.
If everything worked out like planned, many more decisions would await him. What to take along, when to start, where to go, how to proceed at all. For now the Soldier was forced to wait, because without the helicopter they didn't know what they could use, and even then none of them could tell what Engineer would be able to build. Waiting, waiting, waiting.
He couldn't stand to be around the others. He didn't even feel comforted by spending time with Engineer, the Texan was busy and he... useless. 'Might as well steel my mental power.'
Thanks to a co-lab of Engineer and Pyro the pipes in the shower-room still worked, even though their device didn't provide enough power to heat the water up. Just what Soldier needed now, a refreshing shower feeling like thousands of sharp needles on his skin, the best way to clear his mind.
"Hey, boy!" he suddenly shouted. "Come here at once!"
Everyone yawned, feeling a strange kind of exhaustion. Physically they hadn't worked out as much as they wished, but the strain of waiting was worse than before. Scout was still shivering. He cursed this day, his great idea of getting away from the group and finding a peaceful spot to relax. How could he have guessed he would run into Soldier, just when he was sneezing. "Damn old son of a bitch-fart..." the Bostonian muttered to himself. Spy raised an eyebrow, but chose to listen to Heavy once more so the boy wouldn't notice his chuckle. All of them were amused when they learned how the teen was dragged away by Soldier, who suddenly had decided Scout was too much of a sissy and needed some mental and physically strengthening. Namely, taking an ice-cold shower, for no less than 30 minutes. Medic had growled at the veteran, not really out of pity, but because he felt treating the boy against the first signs of frostbite rather annoying. The German seemed to be easily annoyed by most things recently, the Spy thought. He would investigate this matter indeed, later. When their time of escape would be there.
"Ha! Dell, you are a genius!" The Soldier laughed as he wielded the upgraded version of his favourite weapon.
"Well, ain't it the truth." Smiling, the Texan patted the veteran's shoulder.
Four days had passed and Engineer had finally decided that his new project was done and ready for a test run. He woke Soldier in the morning, briefed him with the new features and downsides. Handling the launcher became even less flexible. A strong foothold was required, or it would be impossible to aim at all. The weapon became heavier and had to be reloaded after each shot. But the range was more than doubled and should be long enough now. Yet the power didn't have to be decreased as much as Engineer feared. It fired the rockets strong enough to reach the needed height, but would lose about 25% of its strength when fired vertically after the first half of its flight, which should soften the impact enough not to blow up the whole helicopter.
The last hour they had practised aiming, first horizontal, than upwards. After three rather unsteady shots Soldier got the knack of it and, significant for him, mastered the weapon forever.
The bang of the bullets soon woke the others who joined the two men, being impressed.
Escape suddenly seemed a lot closer, even if this might only be the smallest step. It would get harder from now on. If only the helicopter came soon. Day by day their meals seemed to be smaller.
Obviously the Engineer's achievement with constructing the weapon triggered a lucky streak. Only one day later the weather was crisp and clear, with a bright blue sky stretching above their heads. Even the wind had decided to take a rest for today and a chilly but soft breeze lingered between the massive walls and buildings. For a moment the team forgot about the helicopter, some even followed the Soldier's example and joined him taking a shower. Truth to be told, none of them endured this procedure longer than five minutes. Spy and Demo were about to return to the cave, shivering violently, when they heard the distant staccato of the copter's rotor blades.
Spy gave a start and sprinted back to the showering facilities, returning with Soldier just seconds later.
"Let's go let's go let's go!" Scout shouted, with Engineer in his tow, who hauled the rocket launcher.
Suddenly the world turned into a blurry ball rotating too fast. After all the waiting, all the time spent doing close to nothing, the fast action reached almost worrying levels, and nine hearts seemed to beat in unison. A few seconds later the moment they anticipated was over.
A big bang, smoke, a voice screaming.
Debris falling from the sky, forcing them to take cover behind boulders and shacks, shielding their heads from sparks and metallic slivers.
With an ear-shattering sound and ground-shaking impact the large body of metal crashed to the ground, splitting the icy surface underneath with the blades still running, producing ugly, screeching sounds every time they collided with the ice.
Small flames flashed up, soon increasing, when the Engineer regained his senses. Luckily he had advised Scout to bring an extinguisher along and he prayed to god he could reach the wreck in time before severe damage was done. With a shudder he noticed that the pilot was the first and only part of their prey who caught fire. The faint cries of pain would echo in his head for quite a while, even when all of this would be over. Without further ado he put out the flames and dragged the limp body out of the helicopter, careful not to be decapitated by the rotor blades.
"MEDIC!" he shouted against the raging screams of the still hard working engines. Now the rest of the team woke from its trance and ran to the Engineer's aid, the Medic ahead of them, his bag ready. By two they carried the pilot into safety and at once the German examined the injuries.
Everyone was bustling now, Engineer returned to the wreck, nodding approvingly at Scout, who was already busy short-circuiting the vehicle to make the engines stop. In the blink of an eye the speed of the rotation decreased, the engines flooded with a coughing sound. Two minutes later the Texan was already busy dismantling the helicopter bit by bit, assisted by many helping hands, while Medic was still tending to the unconscious body.
The burns weren't too serious, mostly of the first degree, only a few maybe second, probably not even leaving lifelong scars, he had seen worse. The rattling, gargling breath worried him more. He ripped away the jacket and the shirt, carefully pressing his hands against several parts of the torso. The area around the man's ribcage gave way far too easily, definitely broken. The skin turned already dark where the blood of torn up blood vessels gathered. The Medic sighed and churned out a number of German curses. Inner injuries, probably caused by a rib piercing the lunge. As soon as he finished the thought the man started to cough, blood spluttering from his mouth. "Come on, wach auf, mach schon..." He slapped the pilot a few times, until he finally regained consciousness.
"Breath slowly, your ribs are broken." he hissed, pressing the man down when he arched with pain. "Slow, slow, that's better."
The pilot coughed again, spitting more blood. "Wh..what... happened..."
The Medic pondered on the answer for a second. The reason why he woke this guy at all was simple – he wanted some answers. Healing or dying, both would work while the man was asleep, but Medic didn't intend to wait and see if his patient recovered at all. Now, the truth wouldn't induce the pilot to tell anything of importance.
"You are in Dustbowl. Your Hubschraub... helicopter... had an accident, ze blades stopped for zome reazon. Who iz your boss, who sent you?" he inquired.
"Why... you... who are you...?" The man gave a rattle, the unmistakable death rattle the Medic was afraid to hear so soon from him.
"I'm ze doctor, I help you. Who are you? Who sent you?" He asked again.
"Name.. is.. Jordan... the company..." His eyes lost focus.
"What's ze name of ze company?" The German had to stop himself not to shake him but the pilot had passed out again. "Vell, at least he's still alive, for now."
With a sigh he filled a syringe with a crystal clear liquid, tipped twice against the little container to make sure no air bubbles remained and injected the stabilizing agent, hoping he could keep up the circulatory system long enough to question him later for a second time. Until then he would try his best to treat the injuries as good as possible. 'And necessary' he added in his mind. His instinct told him this man was behind hope, and it would be silly to waste too many resources and time on him. He assured himself that everything was done that could be done for now, pulled a blanket over the bandaged body and finally stood up. He joined the rest of their team, checking if none of them were hurt by the debris or any other sharp edges of the metal parts and treated them where needed.
All of them worked until late in the night, for once immune to the cold and returning wind. Medic checked on his patient every few minutes, the last time, close to midnight, he came upon nothing more than a bandaged corpse. The man had never regained consciousness again. The doctor grimaced at the dead body in frustration. He didn't like the fact they had actually violated the unwritten code of ethics, but even more he was vexed about not being any wiser. Maybe a little shift of the angle of incidence, maybe only a few inches when the helicopter came down, and the pilot would have survived and giving them answers now. Well, nothing he could do about it. He beckoned for Heavy, who helped him to carry the corpse outside the cave where the Russian dug a shallow grave in the ice.
So the existence of a human from the outside world became soon unreal, as most of them put the unknown guy they only looked at for a few seconds out of their minds. The less they brooded about him, the better. There still was a lot of work left to do, they hadn't even started to remove the engines from the copter, but it was too dark and too cold now, and all of them needed sleep. Soldier threatened Engineer to have Medic giving him a sedative shot if the Texan didn't calm down and took a rest, and finally the shorter man gave in. But with his eyes closed thoughts were running in his head again, taking apart things and putting them into new places all night.
The men fell silent like one, and no sound was to be heard until the next morning.
At daybreak the Engineer left the cave before anybody else woke up and resumed his work. They got still lucky with the weather, although grey clouds covered the sky, the sun broke through here and there, cold and unpleasant, but without a storm brewing. Soldier was the next to awake, hearing the distant sounds of the Texan's tools working on metal. It took him only a few shouts and insults and the rest of the team soon joined him and the Engineer, helping were they could. Or at least they tried. Too many hands caused more harm than good, and it didn't take long until their efforts only resulted in chaos and slash wounds.
"This won't do," Engineer finally put an end to this mayhem. "Soldier, Heavy and Sniper, you help me here, the rest of you, go back to the cave. Fix up some food, ain't no good working with an empty stomach. After that, polish your weapons, play hide and seek, whatever, but stay outta ma way!"
Work progressed satisfactorily. A few hours later the wreck didn't resemble a helicopter any more. Scout said, the remaining framework reminded him of the skeleton of a chicken, the others agreed. It was a sad sight, yet several piles of different metal parts looked promising to their eyes, and the Engineer's pleased smile agreed with them. He was even able to retrieve the radio transmitter from the wreck, it seemed damaged, but he would give it a try, maybe he could fix it. If not, there were enough other helpful components for his use. The blueprints in his mind took already shape of something useful he could build.
"Yo, Demo, Sniper, gimme a hand with the engine, gotta carry it to the cave next to the supply room!" The two men took hold of the bulky, heavy construction, waiting for the signal.
"Ready? Heave-ho!" the Texan ordered.
They braced their muscles and almost lost grip of the precious device when Sniper suddenly dropped on his knees, his face struck with pain.
"Bloody hell, what's wrong with ya, laddie?" Demo shouted.
"Nothin', just a darn... muscle cramp..." Staggering, the Australian tried to stand up again, holding his side.
"Ya sure?" Engineer looked at him with a doubtful expression not unlike Demo's. Before Sniper could answer, the Scotsman stood next to him, pressing a hand against the Sniper's hurting side.
"AAAAH GODDAMNED sonofabitch!"
"Ye were holdin' back for a few days now, right? Gertcha and see the quack." Demo ordered. "No use for an injured twerp here."
"Geez, I certainly won't go to..." Before Sniper could finish his sentence, he heard Engineer already call for their Medic. "Shit."
"Was is it, Engineer?" the German asked indignantly, when he spotted the chalk-white face of his teammate. "Oh je," he suddenly smirked. "Do ve have a little problem there, Sniper? Better come back with me."
"No thanks, I'm fine, get lost now." the Sniper snapped back, however, his protest was ignored as Demo had already started to drag him back to the shack next to their cave, where Medic stored most of his equipment. "I'll bring Heavy along, he's the better guy for the job anyway."
Engineer nodded.
The shed wasn't large, with all the medical devices scattered over boxes and shelves, and a makeshift cot, the room was really cramped and too small for three men. Demo left as soon as he put Sniper down on, searching for Heavy. The Australian felt uneasy, knowing pretty well the man before him was still bearing a grudge. Yet he wasn't ready to give up the control of the situation. He gritted his teeth, almost looking like a shark when he smiled. "Finally alone again, are ya happy?"
Medic only raised an eyebrow, his face otherwise still serious and unaffected. "Vhat iz the problem? Vhere doez it hurt?"
"Gaaah, playin' the ever unimpressed, passionless Doctor, eh, Will? Hiding this other side... aaah!" Again a sharp pain interrupted him, when Medic poked merciless and without any caution his hurting side.
"Shut up, get out of zat coat and lay down."
Sniper choked back a cutting remark and obliged. He flinched when the Medic pushed up his shirt and he could feel cold fingertips on his skin.
Medic shook his head when he beheld the bruised skin. Anger mixed into his voice while he applied more pressure than necessary to the rib cage, remembering he had done the same less than a day before, with not so pleasant results. He hated unpleasant results, especially if he had to deal with the same sources within a short time.
"A rib fracture, you are lucky zey haven't pierced your inner organs, or you'd be coughing blood like ze pilot last night. How on earth did that happen?" he ranted.
Sniper looked at him in amazement. Then he started to laugh. "Are ya kiddin' me? Or has the cold affected your memory? You kicked me pretty hard that night". His laughter turned into coughing, then a whimper when the German firmly pressed his hand against the broken rip.
"Du Vollidiot! Don't tell me you run around with a broken rib for a week now!" he almost shouted.
"Thought... it would... go away..." the Sniper gasped. The cold fingers, resting on his skin now, felt good, cooling the injury.
"Vell, it didn't. And it von't for a vhile. Sit up, remove the shirt." He turned around, searching for some bandages and soothing ointment.
"He, ya should have talked like that last time... hey!" he protested when he was hit by a clipboard on the back of his head.
"I talk like zis next time vhen I break another of your ribs. But for now.." And without a warning he forcefully pushed against the broken bone, making the Sniper scream out of pain. "What the..." the Australian gasped.
"The rib was already healing, but in ze wrong position. Had to break it again and now I'll shove it in its place." With a sadistic grin he looked down on his patient. "Need an anaesthesia? It vill give you a nice dream and you von't feel anything."
Sniper hastened to shake his head. Asleep? With the vindictive German at his side?
"Not for love or money."
"Be assured, zere vill neither be ze one nor the other involved." Without further hesitation he continued his treatment, with no means to be careful or to avoid unnecessary pain. The tall man clenched his teeth, gripping the edges of the cod so hard his knuckles turned white. Cold sweatdrops ran down his face and he blinked hard to fight back tears of pain. But he successfully swallowed down the screams. He wouldn't give the Medic that satisfaction.
Finally the doctor felt the bone snap back into its place.
"Zere, done. Good Sniper, gonna tell your mother vhat a brave boy you've been."
"Shuddap, motherfucker..." the man cursed. His whole body tensioned when he felt the Medic's hands on his body again. But this time he only applied some of the ointment on the bruised skin. The fingers and the crème itself were cold, causing a shudder to run down his back. This was very different from the rough treatment before.
The Australian gave a faint groan. "This feels good... no, not like THAT!" he hurried to assure the doctor when he noticed the piercing glare. "It eases the pain..."
"Zat's what it'z meant for." Medic stopped and put the bandages around the Sniper's torso.
"Ouch, that's pretty tight, does it have to hurt like this?"
"Ja, or it von't keep the bone into place. Here, take the ointment and apply it again tomorrow. If you need help with the bandages, come to me or ask Pyro." The German threw the tube at him, Sniper managed to catch.
"Pyro? Why Pyro?" he wondered. He tried to picture the most mysterious guy of them all as a nurse. And failed.
"Because ze Pyro knows enough about medicine to treat a minor fracture like zis. Now, get dressed and get lost."
Medic had already begun to clear away several medical instruments. Sniper watched him for a moment, then he took hold of the other man's wrist when he stood next to him again.
"Well, at least ya got ya revenge, guess we are even... whoa whoa, wait!" Yet again he was cut short, when Medic suddenly was above him, pushing him down, and swung one knee between the Sniper's legs, with enough force to make his threat clear.
"What the..." Remembering the pain the last kicks inflicted, Sniper felt scared for a second. With both hands he tried to shove the Medic aside, but the doctor was stronger than he expected.
The German grabbed the surprised face with one hand, lowered slowly his head and whispered into the Australian's ear. "Narr. You have NO idea. Zis happened because of your stupidity alone. I expect more... enjoyment... from my revenge, and zere vill be nozhing you can do about it and you von't know vhen it vill happen. Until zen, Nicholas,..." He pressed his knee hard against the Sniper's sensitive groin, "...until zen don't believe I forgot your insolent behaviour. And you shouldn't forget ze result." He traced down the paralysed Sniper's throat with one finger, satisfied with the shiver this caused in the other man's body. He laughed his evil, unforgiving laugh again, his lips almost touching Sniper's cheek, when he, as sudden as he had attacked, climbed off the cod with one swift, fluent movement, not without supporting himself on the broken bone for a second. Sniper didn't move for a second, gasping.
"As I said, get dressed and get lost, before I lose my patience wiz you." reaching for his own overcoat, he left the shed and joined the others, asking if his assistance was required.
- to be continued -
Translations:
Medic:
"...zen ve should have heard from our employers by now, nicht wahr?"
"zen ve shoud have heard from..., shouldn't we?"
"Nun," the Medic coughed slightly...
"Well," the Medic coughed...
"Don't waste zis food, Du Idiot."
"..., you idiot!"
"vait until dinner, Vielfraß."
"vait until dinner, glutton!"
"Kindsköpfe." (there's no term I could find, says "heads of children", meaning silly/childish persons)
"Man hat schon Pferde kotzen sehen..."
a German proverb, slang, a literal translation would be:"Somebody had seen horses vomitting before..."
Meaning:"you know, anything can happen, even the impossible"
"Come on, wach auf, mach schon..."
"Come on, wake up, come one..."
" Your Hubschraub... helicopter"
"Hubschrauber" is German for helicopter, but he corrected himself, so we can ignore this, right? ^^
"Oh je," he suddenly smirked.
"Oh my," ….
"Du Vollidiot!"
"You retard/complete idiot!"
"Narr. You have NO idea."
"Fool..."
Spah
"Taise-toi, chiard, and develop some ethics. Go on, Engineer, explain to le petit enfant."
"Shut up, brat,... explain to the toddler."
"Alors, sum it up, shall we? We shoot the 'elicopter down, you zee what you can build, and you build it le plus tôt possible, before zee ozers who might be les enemies arrive, oui?"
"Well, sum it up, shall we? We shoot the 'elicopter down, you zee what you can build and you build it as soon as possible..."
"Bon. Mais, when shall zees facétie 'appen"
"Good. But, when shall this move happen?"