( Author's note: I intentionally cast Medic as the uninformed onlooker to Engineer's mediation, in part because I imagine he'd want to watch anyhow, and in part because I wanted to omit the thoughts of any of the three arguing parties to keep things impartial. Also, because I just plain like Medic.

I'm not someone who likes to write antagonists being shitty for no good reason, and having human feelings makes a villain more interesting to me, than pointless moustache-twirling evil. Even though he's more or less the "bad guy" in this story, I tried to depict RED Spy as the former, rather than the latter. Inversely, I don't see Engineer as a sweet, cuddly teddy-bear; he's soft-spoken and amiable, but even he himself admits to being "wolverine-mean". I imagine his bad side is not a comfortable place to be.

Morphine is still in common use today. I can tell you from personal experience that can sure dull your pain, but the side-effects are their own kind of discomfort. )


In the small hours of the morning, another member of the RED team found himself in the clutches of an explosively painful headache. Spy wasn't given to occasional migraines, but as the fog started lifting from his mind, he remembered that this wasn't the result of illness or severe tension. Medic's treatment had spared him any serious brain damage, and left him with a pretty clear memory of the fight with Sniper - at least, up until the point where man had started smashing his head against the concrete floor. Things were kind of patchy after that.

An unpleasant, raspy sound intruded on his consciousness. He tried to rise from the bed where he lay, but the pain of his injuries drove him back down immediately, leaving him weak and nauseous. (What did that disgusting savage do to me? Where am I now?) Spy found that he could look around without much trouble, provided he didn't move much or turn his head. He realized he was hearing someone's choked breathing; a curtain was placed between himself and the other man. (This must be the infirmary. Why would they leave me to languish here with grievous head wounds, when the doctor's Medi-gun could have healed me in moments? Did he have something more important to do? A monkey could operate that thing, it can't be any harder than holding the lever down. ...what if it's broken? Or malfunctioning?)

Fear gripped Spy as he wondered if the Medi-gun was broken; he nervously licked his parched lips, then discovered something reassuring. (I have all my teeth back. I'm positive I'd lost some when Mundy was head-butting me, so this means I've been healed.) He lifted a hand to his face, and found out only too late that it was in worse shape than his teeth; it was all he could do to stifle a yelp of pain as his fingers brushed against the crushed cartilage of his nose. Spy realized that his features were probably a mess of bruises right now. His balaclava was starting to feel like a painful inconvenience, a blood-crusted cast over a throbbing, poorly-set extremity.

(Alright. So the Medic didn't see fit to repair all of my wounds. What the fuck would he do that for? Some kind of sick experiment?) Impotent rage boiled in Spy's chest, and the rattling sound of his room-mate's breath was becoming irritating. It could only be Sniper. (I must have injured his trachea when I punched him... good. He deserves to suffer, the son of a bitch. I can only hope I ruptured something while I was working him over, that would teach him to attack me from behind.)

Spy closed his eyes, and tried to meditate on getting back to sleep. The pain and the sounds in the darkness were a persistent distraction, though, and he found his mind wandering. He wondered how much of this he had brought on himself. (This is what I get for trying to woo that dirty bushman... I should have been more sensible about my approach. Should have waited until he was sober to try talking things over with him. Should have exercised more patience. ...I was too impulsive about my plans, that's where I went wrong.) With nobody to see him and no company but his own thoughts, Spy could afford the luxury of being honest; the only price was the agony of admitting that he'd made mistakes, and in its own way, that was a nice distraction from the pain he was in. He wasn't blind to human suffering - a fact that he sometimes regretted - but tuning it out in pursuit of his own ends had come easily over the years. Empathy was only useful as a tool for understanding another person's motives.

He started to frown, then stopped as the movement made his face ache. (I'm better off trying to relax. ...if only I had something for the pain. This is like some sort of punishment.) It occurred to Spy that this was a distinct possibility, and he felt a surge of anger that brought on more white-hot agony. His consciousness waned mercifully, but returned after a few moments of stillness and left him feeling as lousy as before.

At length, Spy's emotions turned to some semblance of regret, and he finally found he was considering Sniper's perspective on this whole ugly affair. Thinking about the other man's unhappiness left a bad taste in his mouth; it was easier to ignore higher emotions and focus on sexual pleasure alone, but the blackmail had clearly overshadowed any release Sniper felt from the incident. Spy sighed, letting his body sag into the thin mattress. (I can begrudge him for attacking me, but... not for being angry. This really is my fault, more than his. ...I suppose I have no choice in the matter, we'll need to have words again. ...if he's willing to listen.)


Spy knew he must have drifted off at some point, because he was awoken by footsteps and a weird hissing noise. He opened his eyes a bit, and found he was feeling marginally better than he had before - well enough to move a little, anyhow. Turning his head slightly, he saw shapes moving on the other side of the partition beside his bed. (Medic... I wonder if I'm fit enough to strangle the life out of him when he comes over here...) The odd noise from before repeated itself, and Spy realized he was hearing Sniper beg for painkillers.

"Ah, I see zat you are awake, Herr Sniper. ...vhat are you saying? Medicine? I'm not sure... zis is not my prescription, you see, I vould heff let zer respawn take care of your injuries. ...you are feeling sick? Morphine could make zat worse, my friend." Although their features were obscured, Spy could see the doctor leaning close to his other patient, whose voice was raspy and indistinct. After a meaningful pause, Medic straightened up and ruffled Sniper's hair. "Oh, very well. ...you know I can't stand seeing people suffer, hmm? I'll give you a shot."

As Medic started towards the locked cabinet where the drugs were kept, Spy cleared his throat, and spoke. "What a pleasant surprise, Docteur. I presume zere is a good explanation for all of... zis?"

Medic's tone was crisp and a bit smug. "Good morning, Herr Spy, I'm glad you are coherent. I vas curious to see vhat state you'd be in now, but it seems my technique vas a success- you're awake, and even talking! Can you see?"

"Pardon?" Spy squinted across the room at the good doctor, who was drawing a dose of morphine for Sniper. Beside him, he could hear some choked noises from the Australian, but it was clear that both of them were too weak to continue last night's brawl.

"Can you see anything, Herr Spy? Ze back of your cranium vas positively crushed, you vould be dead or utterly incapacitated if it vasn't for ze medi-gun. I vas told to repair ze worst of your injuries, so you vould be cognizant of your situation."

It was a moment before Spy could speak without resorting to obscenities. "Well. ...yes, my eyes are working normally. A shot of morphine now, if you would? As you can see, I am awake and very cognizant of ze situation: I am in excruciating pain."

"I suppose it's only fair," Medic sighed, fetching a second needle. He tended to Sniper first, murmuring affectionately to the marksman as one would to a sick child, and smoothing back his wildly tousled locks. Sniper spoke back, but he was still too hoarse to be easily understood. Then Medic moved around the partition and cleaned the inside of Spy's left elbow with an iodine-soaked swab. Although he wasn't phobic of needles, Spy was already sufficiently dizzy that he didn't want to press his luck, and he closed his eyes while Medic administered the drug. Fainting from an injection would just be embarrassing.

"So, 'ow long do you plan on 'olding us like zis, Medic? I certainly 'ope you have a fucking good reason to subject members of your own team to unnecessary, inhumane treatment." Spy couldn't glower at the doctor, so a chilly tone of voice was the best he could do for now.

Medic looked down at him with an expression of mild amusement. "As I vas saying before to Herr Sniper, zis vas not my idea of discipline. It vas zer Engineer's. ...he should be arriving later zis morning; from vhat I understand, he believes ze both of you need a mediated discussion of your... differences, and didn't trust you not to start fighting like cats and dogs if I restored you to health."

Spy was dumbstruck. (Engineer told him to do this? It seems I underestimated the American's capacity for ruthlessness... This punishment makes sense, in a cruelly pragmatic way. We inflicted these injuries on each other- the rest of the group had no part in that. Unless we're needed on the battlefield, nothing in our contract says the company is required to keep us in fighting form. ...I suppose once we've come to a gentleman's agreement, we'll be patched up. Until then... we have no contractual obligation to be friends, but we are required to work together. As a team. Engineer must know this, too. ...I didn't think he had the stomach to let his friend suffer.)

Peering through the barrier, Spy could see the blurred figure of Sniper, laying prostrate on a gurney. He felt a mix of sadism and guilt; if his own physical state was any indication, the bushman was probably in fantastic pain right now. (We take some things for granted here, don't we? It's only when you're flat on your back with a crushed skull that you have the time to see the error of your ways. ...or with a bruised set of kidneys, I suppose.) Spy lay down again and closed his eyes, trying not to groan in pain. "I... I see. Ze labourer can wake me up when 'e arrives, I suppose."

"Ja, of course." Medic had locked up the magical mystery cabinet again. Considering the people he was working with, Spy couldn't blame the man for keeping his drugs sealed away from everyone else.

As the doctor settled down to study some papers, peace and quiet descended on the room, something for which Spy was quite grateful. The painkiller didn't give him much in the way of euphoria, but he did find himself feeling drowsy and unfocused, which was sort of an improvement. His consciousness was submerged under a mixture of fatigue, drug-induced confusion and indifference, and for a while he wavered between napping and a muffled awareness of his surroundings. Spy thought he might have seen Medic checking on him a few times, or heard him at Sniper's bedside, but it was hard to worry about anything for very long.

Some time later, he awoke to the sound of Medic's voice; on the other side of the barrier, the doctor was muttering to himself and tending to his other patient. Something clattered as it was set down on the floor. "Ach, er erbrach. Dummkopf, Ich habe dich gewarnt..."

Sniper's voice was hoarse and indistinct. "...sorry, doc'... don't hurt so much's before. ah Christ, this's a right clusterfuck..."

Medic sounded surprised for a moment, as though his mind were on other things. "Ah- ze analgesic is working, you say? Gut, sehr gut. You just try and sleep some more, hmm? Herr Engineer should be here very soon, zhen he vill be looking after you and zer spy."

"...aw, no... don't wan' 'im seein' me like this... please, doc..."

Even in the midst of an opium haze, Spy caught a pleading note in the Australian's voice. Something about this set off a blinking light in his mind. (Sniper is mortified at the thought of Engineer seeing him in a wretched state. ...doesn't want to appear weak to Engineer? Doesn't want Engineer to worry? I wonder...) Both possibilities nagged at Spy, but he wasn't prepared to form any conclusions yet.

Spy's mind drifted off again, but returned to earth a few moments later when he heard the infirmary door open. Lifting his head and squinting, he saw Engineer enter the room, and Medic approached the little guy with a towel in hand. "Herr Engineer, zhey heff been waiting for you! How are you zis morning? Headache all gone? Zhere are pills I can give you, ze next time you feel one coming on."

Engineer waved Medic off; he had left his helmet and goggles in the workshop, but a wide-brimmed cowboy had offered shade for his usually-friendly face, and today it was not so friendly for a change. "Nothin' much seems ta work aside from good old-fashioned bedrest. How are our pugilists doin'? Not screamin' to be put out of their misery, I see. Does it look like either of 'em got up in the night, and tried to start where they'd left off before?" From his place near the door, Engineer peered over at the two patients. Spy squinted back at him, but the little guy's expression was unmoved by the sight of his injured team-mates.

"Nein, neither of zhem hess moved from his bed. Where vas it you are planning to take zhem for ze discussion you had planned?" Medic arched an eyebrow curiously, and paused to glance over at Spy and Sniper as well. "I may heff to administer another application of ze Medi-gun if you intend to leave ze infirmary vith zhem, both seem to be... well, zhey are still quite incapacitated. If I had to guess, I vould say zhey were trying to kill each ozzer."

"You have anything planned in here over the next few hours, Doc?" Engineer asked, turning to Medic. The tall German shook his head, and Engineer looked back to the other two men. "Maybe we'll just have that chat in here, then, if you don't mind. I'm pretty sure they've cooled off by now, but I'm not in the mood for breakin' up a scuffle."


Medic helped Engineer move the screen that separated the feuding pair, then pulled up a chair for the Texan and stepped back to watch the proceedings. There were various reasons he could have cooked up to explain his interest in observing this discussion, but Engineer hadn't asked for any, and both of them knew the truth: it was schadenfreude. (He must be feeling pretty short with those two. I had almost expected him to question my perverse curiosity... on the other hand, I'm the one who helped facilitate his plan by giving them a place to languish. It isn't like he'd have the gall to try and kick me out of my own surgery.)

Beyond the harmless enjoyment of seeing others in pain, Medic had other reasons to watch - he was an avid researcher, after all, and even data he'd never planned on gathering might someday be useful. Humans were fascinating animals in every respect, and Medic loved seeing them interact, particularly when bloodshed might result. As he sat down by a supply cabinet, one of the doves came to roost by his head (Archimedes? Or are you Juvenal?); Medic smiled and studied the two men who had beaten each other within an inch of their lives, only to be denied the convenience of the respawn system.

"I suppose y'all have figured out why we're here by now," Engineer said, frowning beneath his ridiculously American hat. Spy looked like he wanted to frown back, but was incapable of doing so; while the serious damage to his brain and the back of his skull had been repaired by the Medi-gun, the injuries to his face were gruesome and not at all life-threatening. He looked like he'd been stomped on by an elephant - his nose was nearly crushed flat, both cheekbones fractured, and there was so much swelling around his eyes that he could barely open them. His lower jaw had fared better, but the only reason Medic had seen fit to let his teeth grow back was so that he wouldn't choke on his own blood while he slept.

Spy gave a hoarse sigh. "If I am not mistaken, zis is your idea of punishment. Mssr. Mundy jumped me last night, and I... retaliated, in full force. You probably wish to know why. I will take my 'ypothesis a step further, and suggest you also wish to see zat we agree to no such altercations in ze future."

"...right," Sniper rasped, fidgeting as he leaned against the headrest on his bed. Where Spy's face was swollen and bruised, his was pale, glistening with sweat. The Medi-gun had sealed the tears in his ruptured organs, but Medic could tell just by looking that he hadn't slept well. What the morphine had done for his pain, it hadn't done for the accompanying nausea, and Sniper seemed sicker now than before he'd been given the shot. His throat was an ugly shade of purple.

Engineer nodded slowly, a humorless frown still chiseled into his features, something that even Medic found unsettling - like a house with no windows or a fish with no eyes, it seemed almost aberrant. "Aye-ffirmative. ...look, boys, you both know how things work around this place. You're not bein' paid to be friends, but you are bein' paid to win fights. This team is supposed to operate like a well-oiled machine. However the individual parts might feel about each other, they've all gotta' work together with precision - the kinda precision that can only come with trust. If two members of this team can't pass each other in the hall without tradin' nasty looks, how can the rest of us count on them t'put their differences aside in the heat of battle and do whatever's necessary to win? How can either of them stick his neck out for a guy, when all he's thinkin' about is how that same fella' might come after him in the locker room?

"Furthermore: if this kinda' feud starts affectin' the team's success in the field, how d'you think the RED company is gonna' be feelin' when it comes time to rotate this crew? They can't just terminate our contracts out of the blue, but they can ship us out t'somewhere so wretched and so insignificant, we'll all be prayin' that respawn goes down so we can freeze to death and escape this world for good."

Medic twisted open a thermos of tea and leaned back in his chair, watching the two miscreants squirm as Engineer spoke. Everyone on the team was so accustomed to Soldier's tirades, it was easy to ignore him and carry on with whatever business was at hand. Medic regularly saw his team-mates eating, dressing, and even shaving without so much as a flinch, while the lantern-jawed American bawled them out. When Engineer was delivering a stern lecture, though, it seemed these men felt they had no choice but to listen. Medic wondered if it was respect for the most educated man on the team, or if in their weakened state, Spy and Sniper just couldn't raise their usual mental defenses against nagging.

"I understand your position, Engineer," Spy said quietly. "I... spent much of ze night thinking about my actions, and ze incidents zat brought us 'ere. I could try to blame Sniper for our fight, but truth be told, I... ...I 'ave done things zat were unnecessary. Much of ze fault lies with me."

Engineer sat up straighter, looking surprised. Medic couldn't blame him. (I had taken Spy to be a full-blown narcissist. ...well, even a mindless brute can feign emotions when he thinks it will get him out of trouble. Still... if I didn't suspect otherwise, I'd think he was being honest.) The doctor took a sip of tea and glanced at Sniper, who gripped the mattress with one tense, white-knuckled hand, then half-turned and pointed the other one at Spy. After two false starts that could have been mistaken for heaving, he found his voice.

"Unnecessary?" Sniper exclaimed, sounding cracked and hoarse. It must have taken all his strength to yell with a smashed trachea, because he coughed and grimaced from the effort, and was much quieter when he finally managed to speak again. "Fuckin' A, mate! You're bloody right it's your fault, if you- if you hadn't blackmailed me, none of this would have- none of-" He was shaking now, his face twisted into a sharp-toothed grimace of rage. There was something else there too, some other overpowering emotion that left him too choked-up to continue, and he clutched a hand over his face and gritted his teeth.

Medic just listened curiously, doing his best not to interject on the conversation. These were scientific observations, after all, and he didn't want to influence his subjects in any way. Somewhere under the mass of bruises, Spy's eyes were wide as dinner-plates. Engineer was shocked as well, and he started to rise from his chair, then hesitated. (Blackmail? Interesting, it seems this is news to Engineer. ...what a powerful response, he's positively livid! Now, what is it about this that's causing him such strong emotion?) The Texan's face flared red with anger. He started to speak, stopped himself, then sat down and took a deep breath.

"That's a pretty serious accusation there, Sniper. You know what he's talking about, Spy? ...have you been blackmailin' him?" It was clear to Medic that the group's mediator was struggling to control himself, as though something about this development was making it hard for him to stay neutral. Engineer's words were unbiased, but he was giving Spy a murderous look.

Spy lowered his eyes. "As I was saying, I 'ave done things zat were not necessary. ...things I shouldn't 'ave. My regret at 'aving committed zese acts 'as been with me longer than ze injuries to my face, I can assure you. I 'ad... attempted to rectify ze situation on Friday, but by ze time I was able to 'ave a private discussion with Sniper, 'e was quite inebriated and, it seems, unable to form a clear recollection of what I said."

"Yes or no, Spy. Did you commit an act of extortion against that man?" Engineer sounded nonplussed. Sniper, on the other hand, seemed to be having some sort of fit; he had pulled his knees up against his chest and was glaring at them, muttering and shaking with emotion.

A low, defeated groan escaped the masked man. With what must have been a superhuman effort, he cleared his throat and said, "Yes."

Engineer put a hand over his face and rubbed his eyelids, still frowning. "Well, don't that just beat all. That's great. What the hell'm I- ...look, you two, we're gonna' hafta' talk this over until you make up, or make amends, or- or figure out some peaceful resolution to whatever the hell it is you pulled on him, Spy. Now, what happened?" He looked over at Sniper, his expression wavering as underlying emotions picked away at the surface. "What is it he did to you, Mundy?"

To see the normally-aloof marksman reduced to a frothing, snarling animal was singularly unusual, as far as Medic was concerned. What happened next went beyond anything he could have possibly expected, though; at Engineer's question, Sniper paled, then stared at his friend with wide-eyed horror and began shaking his head. "Aw, no... no, I can't- 'm not gonna' talk about- no, no, not- I just- can't tell you about-" Sniper choked on his babbling words, and his chest started to heave; to everyone's surprise, the man was suddenly on his feet and staggering away from his sickbed.

Medic flinched and pointed towards the bathroom. "Raus, raus!" After Sniper had slammed the door and locked it shut behind him, an uneasy mood descended on the infirmary's occupants. Engineer seemed drawn between pursuing the one man, or strangling the other.

"I could be mistaken, Spy, but I think he's pretty upset about what you did. Care ta explain?"

Spy's expression was obscured by all the bruises, but there was a glimmer of remorse in his eyes. Engineer seemed to catch it, too, but it only caused him to deepen his frown. The masked man sagged back against the headrest, then sighed. "I... I will only tell you zat I wronged 'im. Ze details of what 'appened between us, I feel I cannot disclose in good conscience, for 'is sake."

Engineer sprang to his feet and was at Spy's bedside in an instant, his prosthetic fist raised threateningly. "Oh, that's a load of bullshit, Spy! You spill yer guts right now, or I'm gonna' do it for you, y'hear?"

Although tempted to intervene, Medic decided the opportunity to see Engineer savage someone with that murder-weapon was too good to pass up. He leaned forwards, perched on the edge of his seat and watching raptly while the doves descended to pillage his cup of tea.

Even knowing full well that respawn could undo anything Engineer might inflict on him, Spy cringed in genuine alarm. "Wait! Ah, God, just listen to me! ...before you came in 'ere, ze man was 'orrified to know you would see him in zis state. I don't know if 'e didn't want you to worry, or if 'e just wants to be a tough guy, but I am inclined to believe it is ze latter." The Gunslinger emitted a mechanical growl, and Spy winced. "Ze blackmail occurred several days ago, yet 'e 'asn't told you about it! Why do you think zat is? I can tell you why, it is because 'e values 'is pride over everything else!"

At this, Engineer stepped back and lowered his robotic fist, clearly dumbstruck. Medic narrowed his eyes curiously and studied the American's expression, as though the finer details might betray things beyond the scope of his own theories. (That looked like a slap in the face for Engineer. ...does he expect Sniper to tell him about things like this? If the incident involved a breach of contract, I can imagine keeping it a secret. But Spy doesn't seem to be talking about it that way, he makes it sound more like a source of great embarrassment than something Sniper could get fired over.) Curiosity was burning in Medic's chest, and found himself rising from his chair.

"Amylobarbitone is not foolproof, Herr Engineer, but it could encourage our friend here to tell you more about ze matter. ...normally I vould not administer ze drug to someone who is already under ze effect of morphine, but..." Medic chuckled lightly, shrugging his shoulders. "Vhat is ze worst zat might happen, it kills him? Ah- respawn vould even remove ze opiates from his body, and ve could try again in earnest!"

Engineer was still flabbergasted by Spy's words, and it took him a few moments to realize what Medic had said. "Wha- oh, well... I uh, I appreciate the offer, Doc, but I think I'm first gonna' try talkin' with Sniper, see what he has ta say about all this. You just... you keep an eye on Spy, alright? Don't- don't shoot him up with anything unless I say so, I'd rather we get to the bottom of this... y'know, without resortin' to chemical persuasion."

For his part, Spy looked unimpressed at the suggestion of truth serum. He shot Medic a glance that seemed to say "Don't even think of it."

"Very well, Herr Engineer," Medic said politely. Deep down, he was sort of disappointed, but it wouldn't be the last chance he'd ever have to use mind-altering drugs on people. He watched as Engineer set his hat down, and approached the locked door.