A/N: I own nothing.

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"Where in GOD's name is MEDIC?" you hear Soldier yelling outside. He bangs on the door, yelling at you to get up and ready. You smile and kiss Medic awake.

"You've got to go get dressed, Medic," you say softly, already pulling on a shirt.

"Fritz," he mumbles, stumbling towards the door.

"I'm sorry?"

"Fritz," he says again, "My name is Fritz." He opens the door, sparing you one last tired smile before slipping out to his own room.

"Fritz," you repeat while you tug on your pants, savoring the way it rolls off the tongue. You wince when you feel your stitches pull again. You make a mental note to keep Fritz close during the battle. Might not hurt my kill count to be Übercharged, either, you think, lacing up your boots, No more Respawn! And I can keep him from getting Back-stabbed, too. You step out into the corridor to see Pyro and Engineer being chased by Sniper and Spy. Engie and Pyro are laughing uncontrollably, and Sniper and Spy look upset. No, not upset. Livid. "C'mon, guys, save it for the battlefield!" you call after them, sighing as you drag yourself to the kitchen for a nice bit of caffeine before you have to get to the Respawn Room.

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"Mission begins in ten seconds," the cool voice of the announcer says, starting the countdown.

"Stay with me," Medic says, medigun at the ready. You cock your weapon, and when the doors unlock, follow closely behind him. You feel a pleasant warmth wash over your body, and you start feeling extremely energetic. "Übercharge is almost ready… Just another few seconds… Aha!" You shout out something to alert the enemy that you are Übercharged.

"I'm going to go ahead," you tell Medic, running forth into the depths of the enemy base.

"Frauleine! Wait for me!" you hear Medic call in the distance. Yon ignore him, blasting the lock off of the door.

"Medic! It's wearing off!" you yell ahead of you, running in zig-zags to avoid any bullet that may be headed your way. You hear his footfalls echoing through the corridors, almost running into him as you pass each other. He quickly turns and follows you until you come to a four-way intersection.

"This way!" he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the left. You clutch the briefcase possesively, and soon you can see the sunlight, crudely-built door only a few hundred feet ahead of you. CrashClang! you hear, recoiling as you hit a set of metal bars. "Dammit!" he says, kicking one of them. You look around to find that you are trapped in a cage. You hear laughter, almost maniac, coming from somewhere to the right.

"Tsk tsk tsk, did you really think you would get out with the intel so easily?" asked the disembodied voice with a French accent. You hear the familiar sound of Spy decloaking, and Enemy Spy materializes before you, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, a remote in his hand. "Hand it over." You fold your arms over your chest, the briefcase held firmly against you.

"L-Let us go!" you stammer.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Spy asks, polishing his perfectly-manicured nails on his suit. You grab your weapon, aiming it at him.

"I said," you start, firing your weapon just to the left of him, leaving a mark in the wall, smirking as he jumps, "Let us go!"

"Give me the intel, and we'll talk." Suddenly, you hear heavy footfalls coming from behind you at an incredible pace for how heavy the person is. You look at Fritz, who mouths Ivan to you. You weren't on a first-name basis with many of the guys, but it didn't take a genius to figure that one out. You put three fingers out at your side, then count down before hitting the ground, pulling Medic with you. Almost on cue, you hear the hail of bullets coming from Sasha. You toss the intel to him, and he catches it easily with one hand. You set off your weapon again, this time killing the damn back-stabber.

"Ivan, get the remote!" Medic calls to the giant man. You hear Spy Decloaking, and Ivan morphs into another Enemy Spy. "Dammit! Two spies? No wonder I'm always getting back-stabbed!" You groan, and look at the weapon in your hand. It would be SO much easier just to kill each other and restart from Respawn. Medic looks at you and seems to read your thoughts, taking out his bonesaw. You look at it reproachfully, then hand him your secondary weapon. "On drei?" he asks. You nod, and he puts the barrel to your temple shortly before you mirror his move. "Eins, zwei, drei!" You set off your weapons at the same time.

Some seconds later, you open your eyes to see Fritz standing beside you, hand outstretched. He is grinning maniacally, and his medigun is already trained on you, charging the Übercharge meter. "Lets go get that intel.

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OK, so this is the rewritten version, and frankly, I don't know if I like it any better than the first... So I might go back and re-rewrite it. AND NOW FOR A QUICK QUESTION/STATEMENT!

I've been writing as non-descrepantly as possible as to allow you to imagine what class and team you are (up until that last paragraph, I think I was doing an OK job). Do you want me to start making a category for each class and team, or should I just leave it as is? More classes means the chapters will be a lot slower in coming out, but it will also have a more personalized effect. If I keep it going like this, should I make "you" a certain class or team? If so, what class/team should "you" be? THE MAJORITY WILL WIN! If I want to, when all this is over, I might go back and rewrite bits as other classes, but for now, I'm not sure if multiple class chapters will work...