A/N: This is what happens to Medic after he leaves You in the med bay. This is the only time that I will write in a third person perspective throughout this story. The memory (while in German) is told in English.

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"I should leave," he hears himself saying, mind already reeling through his memories. He gets to his room and collapses against the door, head in his hands. Tears form as he remembers…

I walk through the streets, MG42 cocked and ready. The carnage is already immense, bloody corpses littering the stormdrains. I poke one of them that isn't as bloody as the rest with the toe of my boot. It rolls over to show that it has had half of its face blown in. Wincing, I continue on my way, trying to find survivors. I hear rubble fall nearby, and turn to face the general direction from whence the disturbance had come. There, in the pile of ash and stone that used to be a building, I see a small pair of eyes, watching me carefully.

"Come here," I bark, keeping my gun at the ready, but lowering it as not to scare the child. The gaunt, pale figure of a child emerges, covered in soot and dried blood. It is a girl, I see, but she is not one that I recognize. "State your name."

"I-Isabelle, sir," she says, quivering, eyes on her beaten shoes, "Isabelle Austerlitz."

"Are you currently enrolled in a Youth Group?"

"Y-yes, sir," she stutters.

"Can you sing for me Es zittern die morschen Knochen, Fraulien Austerlitz?"

" Es zittern die morschen Knochen, Der Welt vor dem großen Krieg, Wir haben den Schrecken gebrochen, Für uns war's ein großer Sieg... Um... I- I can't remember the rest..." Without a second thought, I raise my gun and shoot. She feels no pain, dying instantly as the bullet passes through the center of her forehead at pointblank range.

Medic cringes, tangling his fingers into his hair as if trying to pry the memory from his brain. It passes only to be replaced by another.

" Wir werden weiter marschieren wenn alles in Scherben fällt,denn heute da hört uns Deutschland und morgen die ganze Welt." She sang happily, dancing to her own music as she sprayed a red swastika on the side of a boarded up shop.

"Get away from there! It's filthy," my father called to her, gesturing for her to join us.

"But papa, aren't you proud of your country?" He made a noise of disgust, spitting on the ground.

"Johanna, you should listen to papa," I said quietly, fiddling nervously with the arm band in my pocket. I'd never realized how strongly Papa hated the Nazi's. I thought he would be proud when I told him that I had enlisted as a doctor, but this display of hatred told me differently.

Johanna skipped over to us, blue eyes shining with life. "What is wrong, brother?" I snapped out of my thoughts and smiled at her. It did not reach my eyes, and she continued to pester me. I told her I was thinking of Mama, and she fell silent, the sparkle fading. Suddenly, she seemed old and weary instead of the carefree child she had been only moments previous.

Over dinner, we were silent, but I could not stop fingering the patch of cloth in my pocket. "Son, what's in your pocket?" my father asked as he finally noticed.

"It is nothing, papa," I answered. Johanna, too observant for her own good, saw a corner of the red band poking out of my jacket. She pulled it out, putting it on the table, and Father looked at it, horrified. Just then, there was a knock on the door. He stood silently and answered the door.

"Why are you not overjoyed, Herr Krutz? Did your Fritz not tell you he has enlisted?" I heard the visitor ask.

"Get out of my house," Father said, teeth gritted. I could not see, but I could hear his face getting red with anger.

"Not paying respect to a soldier, Herr Krutz?" the voice asked, becoming cold. Johanna ran out to stand by my father as I heard the hammer of a gun being set. My blood froze when I heard a shot, then screaming. "Fritz? Come, we have work to do," the visiting soldier called to me. I step out to see my sister's face twisted in pain and horror, blood blossoming on her clean white shirt. My father was on the floor beside her, his body half on top of hers, as if even in death he was trying to protect her.

Medic cries out, howling with twenty three years of repressed anger and sadness. His glasses had fallen to the floor at some point previously, and tears were streaming uncontrollably down his face. "Why, Herr Schneider? Why did you kill my Johanna?" he asks the empty room, voice shaking with anger. Enemy Spy stands outside the door, smirking. This would be his chance.

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Little bit of Medic's history here… No clue if any of it is accurate (except that his name is Fritz Krutz because it's on the tf2 wiki).

German!

Wir werden weiter marschieren wenn alles in Scherben fällt,denn heute da hört uns Deutschland und morgen die ganze Welt: We will continue to march, Even if everything shatters; Because today Germany hears us, And tomorrow, the whole World.

Fun fact, this is actually a Nazi song. It originally went "Because today Germany is ours, and tomorrow the whole world.