Another "Successful" Procedure
Mikhail's eyes shot open wide and he sat up in his bed, breathing hard and sweating. It took him a moment to remember where he was and why he was there. He groaned tiredly and wiped the sweat off his brow, grumbling about how much he hated that his lucid dreams were becoming a normalcy, and even getting worse. Instead of just dreaming of making love with the wonderfully complicated German, he was also mindlessly fucking him in all types of positions and all around the base. On desks and operating tables, against walls and windows, in the respawn room.
That last one nearly did Mikhail in. It felt so real and vivid, and with the added on risk of being caught by anyone on the team…the sudden and most intense end to the dream made Mikhail wake up and fall out of bed, wondering why he wasn't in the respawn room with Medic before he remembered that it was a dream.
Rolling over and trying to go back to sleep usually worked, but this time, something was keeping him up. Something that was urgent. Mikhail knew this feeling all too well, and knew not to ignore his instincts. Running from the communists for most his life had taught him that much. He quickly got out of bed and proceeded to leave his room. As he left, he glanced at the alarm clock: 3:37 AM.
What could possibly keep me up so early?
His question was answered soon enough with a slam. Mikhail's head whirled around in the direction of the noise, and his eyes met with a dark hall. However, it was obvious to him at the end of that hall was the Medbay, and the rec room. Two potential targets. Mikhail decided to go to the likelier of the two first; the Medbay.
The walk was one he memorized by heart. This trek was comforting in its way, and the green doors had become a symbol of his friend. They were a positive thing, for he was the one who was always given entry. As he suspected, the light was on, and there was another loud thud in the lab. Mikhail sighed and shook his head.
Silly workaholic doktor…
He entered the lab with enough noise so that he wouldn't startle the man. As soon as he stepped in, Kaspar looked up from his cooler box on the floor, the biohazard symbol blaring out in a harsh tacky red.
"Ooh, sorry, did I wake you?" Kaspar said, standing straight. He was without his coat and gloves, but otherwise was still in uniform. As almost expected, blood was up to his elbows and teasing at the crisply folded white sleeves.
"No, but I heard you from my room." Mikahil responded, waving a hand dismissing the thought that Kaspar would do such a thing. Having heard he wasn't a nuisance, he went back to work and dove his hands back into the cooler's contents.
"What is that?" Mikhail asked, craning his neck to see over his friend's shoulder.
"Organs!" Medic giddily exclaimed, lifting a strangely shaped brown leathery muscle. It took Mikhail a moment to realize what it was, and arched an eyebrow.
"Why do you have a human liver?"
"Ja ja, I know it is strange for me to have human organs, but I was assured that they would not be missed!" Kaspar said, placing the liver in a sterile bag. "Frau Pauling has a way of getting organs for me for free! Did you know that a mega-baboon heart costs somewhere in the neighborhood around five million dollars?"
"No, I did not." Mikhail responded, a little unnerved by the number.
"Ja! Trust me, it's good that I work for an employer that has no issue with expensive parts! But the occasional non-voluntary donor is always welcome."
"Miss Pauling takes them from people for you?"
"Dead people." Kaspar reiterated. "She has to kill people for the Administrator all the time, and I said it was a shame that all those organs go to waste. To save money in the medical budget, she gives me the organs. Strange, ja? That animal organs are more expensive than human…"
"I see…" Mikhail murmured, leaning against the operating table. "So you and Miss Pauling talk often?"
"To an extent, Ja." The German responded, steadily going though the contents of the cooler and bagging them up and labeling each with a sharpie.
"An interesting frau." He commented. "One day off a year, just like the rest of us."
"So it was not her idea for us to be working all the time." Mikhail concluded.
"Nein, that is the administrator." Kaspar said, washing his hands in the deep stainless steel sink. "Another interesting frau."
This grabbed Mikhail's attention instantly.
"You met the administrator?" Mikhail gaped at his friend. Kaspar turned his head to look back at Mikhail.
"yes…didn't you?" Kaspar asked, acting as if he thought Mikhail and the rest of the team did.
"No…I did not." He admitted.
"Odd…I thought everyone did. I met Pyro there and I just assumed." He shrugged, not giving it a second thought.
"No…" Mikhail sighed, crossing his arms slightly. "I just met Pauling."
"Interesting…"
"What was she like?" Mikhail asked suddenly.
"Who?" Medic replied, thinking the conversation was over.
"Whe administrator." Mikhail pressed.
"Oh, Helen?" Mikhail gave him a shocked look that he was using her first name almost casually. Kaspar seemed to take no notice "Serious. No nonsense. Smoked a lot. She's worse than Herr Spy when it comes to chain smoking. Very unhealthy. Requires me to give updates every week. Engineer has to do the same, since he's in charge of respawn."
"You…don't say…"
"Oh ja." He said, waving a hand, dismissing the entire matter. "She is very strict as to the health of the mercenaries."
"Strict?" Mikhail asked.
"Ja. She has certain standards, and allows me to experiment if it will benefit the team."
"Which is why you were able to make the ubercharge…" Mikhail pieced together. "And pyro?"
"Yes. Even Pyro. Speaking of which, Pyro should be here in," he looked at his watch. "Now, actually." He looked up to the door and shook his head.
"Pyro is almost never on time. Not that I should expect anything less." Kaspar said, albeit a little bitterly.
"Pyro still nervous about you?"
"Oh no!" Kaspar shook his head. "just has a lack of attention span. Very common."
"Oh." Mikhail murmured. They were silent for a moment as Kaspar cleaned the cooler and set it out to dry, careful not to get any blood on his clothes. after he was done, he turned back to Mikhail.
"So are you staying for the therapy session?" he asked, grabbing his clipboard and writing a few notes. Mikhail thought for a moment.
"I haven't…decided."
"Well, if you do, kindly let me do the talking. I haven't fully found out what their previous condition was before the procedure, and in this particular case, the patient's full cooperation is needed."
"What do you plan on doing?" Mikhail asked.
"We are still in the observation period, and will be for the next week. Next week is when I decide what method to take and begin procedures."
Mikhail was about to ask about what methods he had in mind, when the doors to the lab opened. Mikhail turned his head and was surprised to see Pyro out of uniform. Well, mostly out of uniform. All that pyro had on was a one-piece pajama set, gloves, and gas mask. Mikhail was sure the one piece had a name, but either way, it covered Pyro's entire body, including the feet. It even had a hood. The pajamas were pink in color and the hood had a face of a horse with a horn on top in between the two triangle ears. A unicorn? Pyro was just getting stranger and stranger.
As soon as Pyro entered and saw that there was one more person in the room that they were expecting, they froze and looked back and forth between the two men.
"It's alright, Pyro." Kaspar said, his voice surprisingly soft and encouraging. "He is just here for the same reason I am. To help you."
Mikhail glanced at his friend and did not expect him to look so warm and inviting. His features were softened over and his eyes were now more gentle and kind rather than sinister and sadistic like they were in battle. Mikhail, as much as he liked to believe Kaspar was able to be like this naturally, had the suspicion that he was faking it. And faking it wonderfully.
Pyro seemed none the wiser to his façade, and far more concerned with the Russian giant, whom they were not told was going to be there.
"Mrmhm Mrphmpmh." Pyro said, pointing to Mikhail. Kaspar shook his head.
"Now Pyro, I understand the apprehension of having practically a stranger in the room with us, but I always prefer a second opinion. The more opinions I have, the easier it will be for us to proceed." Kaspar assured. Pyro was having none of it, and shook their head, pointing to the door.
"Nr. Grrt Orrt." They said. It was clear what they wanted. Mikhail sighed and stood up straight.
"Doktor, I see later. Good night Medic, Pyro." Mikhail stated, walking back towards the doors. He tried to pretend he wasn't self conscious of the two blank eyes that followed him behind the optic lenses as he passed by, and jumped when the small firebug grabbed his arm.
"Mrmhm Mrurr Murh MrmMhm." Pyro said to him, the tone darker and made Mikhail's hair stand on end. It was almost sinister in nature and Mikhail felt terror run through him as he remembered what Spy had said about them.
"Pyro, we have a lot to do, and if we do not hurry, the rest of the team will be up by the time we settle and begin." Kaspar intervened, placing a hand on Pyro's shoulder. They turned to the German for a second before letting Mikhail go.
Once he was released, he practically ran out of the infirmary and into the hall. He didn't stop until he reached his bedroom, and didn't look back.
He may not fear any man, but that thing was terrifying.
Mikhail woke up at a more decent time, feeling a little more refreshed. However, when he joined the other mercenaries, it seemed not everyone was as refreshed, and nor were they in a good mood.
Engineer was at the stove, grumbling about something as he flipped the bacon around in grease, shooting rather dirty looks at Kaspar, who was looking over notes, no doubt from last night's "observation". Beside the Texan, reading a magazine was Pyro, who didn't seem to care that Engineer was essentially killing Kaspar with his eyes every so often. Demoman was actually not drunk for once and instead was talking to Soldier, who was showing off his…was that a baby raccoon? Whatever, not the strangest thing Mikhail had seen from the wannabe Soldier. Scout was sitting on the couch, his body tense and tight over himself, arms crossed and frowning like he was a bad boy in time out. Mikhail wouldn't be surprised if that actually was the case. Sniper was in the kitchen making coffee. Spy was nowhere to be seen, but there was no cigarette smoke either.
Mikhail opted to sit at the table with Kaspar, who immediately made room for him.
"Fascinating information, my friend." The German said in his native speech, flipping a page over. His handwriting was still atrocious. Mikhail nervously contemplated if he should respond in likeness in front of in essence the entire team. When he didn't respond right away, Kaspar stopped looking over his notes and turned to the burly Russian.
"I'm sure there is no harm with you speaking to me in my language. After all, your nation took over half of mine*. It would not be odd if you could speak my language." Kaspar said. Mikhail blinked a few times in surprise at his words. While he knew Kaspar accepted the fact that he was pretending to be ignorant, he didn't think he would out rightly support him. This was warming, and the Russian smiled a little
"No, I suppose not…" he responded. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the majority of the room stopped what they were doing and stared at the German speaking pair.
"You speak krout!?" Soldier cried in horror. Kaspar frowned at the usage of American slander upon his nationality, but did nothing except straighten his spectacles.
"Da. I speak German." Mikhail said. And English, and Italian, and a small bit of French…
"Trilingual?" Engineer asked.
"Nein, not quite. English is still being worked on." Kapsar lied for him. "But that will come in time, ja?"
Engineer frowned at him, apparently still mad at him. Mikhail had a suspicion that he knew Pyro had visited the the Medbay last night. The entire room sensed the tension between the two known Ph.D. men in the room, and it was obvious they were torn between taking sides. Who to choose; the good natured engineer's judgment, or the German Doctor who healed them in battle? Mikhail had already decided to remain neutral, but to the others, it was made clear he seemed to be on Medic's side.
A smell of burnt meat and a popping sound made engineer curse in his usual way and tear his gaze away from his opponent, getting the bacon off the stove and onto a plate with already finished fried eggs, pouring the grease over the two sources of protein, muttering a little. Kaspar went back to his notes and Mikhail was about to ask him what he found out last night that was so interesting, but Engineer's voice cut him off.
"Well, Stretch, sorry I burned them a little, but I hope that fits your definition of greasy, though I don't think Spy will appreciate this. I mean, he seems more of the fine cuisine sort of fella."
Spy? What- was Sniper taking food to Spy of all people!?
"I appreciate the concern, Truckie, but a hung-over Spook is a pissed off Spook, and who do you think he is going to go after? Me, that's who." Sniper said, taking the plate and the pot of coffee into his hands. "I call this leverage for him not to bother the shit out of me today."
"If you think that will work." Engie accepted. Kaspar lifted his head and looked up at the retreating sniper.
"You say Herr Spy is having a hangover?" he asked the marksman. Said Bushman froze at the words directed at him and glanced nervously at him.
"Yeah…" he affirmed nervously.
"You know, greasy food has never been medically proven to cure a hangover. Nor coffee for that matter." Kaspar said. "I can prescribe a-"
"Oh, no thanks!" Sniper said quickly, cutting him off. "you – er- do so much anyway…"
Kaspar's eyes narrowed at the Australian but returned to his papers silently, a frown tugging at his lips. Sniper inched a little towards the door before hurrying out. Out of the corner of Mikhail's eye, he could vaguely see a small smirk on Engineer's face as the Texan turned back to the stove to clean up. Mikhail felt something prickle in his chest that wasn't exactly friendly, and tried to distract himself from that.
"So what did you find out, Doctor?" He asked Kaspar. In an instant, the German was all smiles, turning back to the front of the pile of notes.
"A great many things!" Medic proclaimed. He then proceeded to tell of the habitual things that he discovered from asking Pyro all sorts of personal information. While he didn't tell him Pyro's answers, he did say what he found in their behavior and what probably caused it.
So far, Pyro suffered from schizophrenia, pyromania, motor control issues, ADHD, insomnia, and severe hematoma* around both eyes. They also had the mentality of an 8-year-old, and unable to feel the emotion of fear. Because of this mix of new and old information, Mikhail was starting to get nervous all over again of the possibility that Kaspar bit off more than he could chew. Perhaps Spy was right about Pyro…
"Doctor, have you found out the purpose of Pyro's lobotomy?" Mikhail inquired, noticing that was a subject that Kaspar didn't seem to touch on.
"No, I have unfortunately not." Kaspar admitted, a little disappointedly. "It seems Pyro has no idea as well. I have heard of memory loss from shock therapy, but this seems a little beyond me. It may be the result of careless procedure from the doctor performing. If this is so, this Dr. Carl person seems to be even more of a careless moron than any doctor I've heard of."
Mikhail had to chuckle at that, for this was smart talk for a man who lost his medical license.
"I am sure you will figure it out." He comforted. Kaspar nodded, humming a little. He seemed to be partially distracted by something or another.
"I want you there." He said after a moment of thought. Mikhail raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"For the procedure on Pyro. I want you there." Kaspar explained.
"I'm not sure what good that would do, or even what help I could be..." Mikhail responded nervously. He was still trying to figure out a way to stop him from going through this crazy idea, but that seemed to be harder than originally thought to be. He'd rather not be there if it was to take place.
"You would be a great help, trust me. Two pairs of hands can get more done than one. Also, I would prefer to have a witness of my triumph." Kaspar said, smiling encouragingly. Mikhail was disconcerted, because that smile would be his downfall. He opted to look at the table, a far less bewitching thing to stare at and sighed.
"I will think on it. I am not trained and I still question the morality of this…" Mikhail admitted. "What if the administrator will not think this as beneficial to the team? You will have to report this to her…so if she says that she didn't like it from the start and you go through with-"
"Enough. I know." Kaspar interrupted, shaking his head. "But I am sure that the administrator would not be so cruel as to let Pyro's insanity continue if it can be fixed!"
Mikhail sighed and nodded, though he did not agree. The administrator would very likely be the sort of person who would keep people at a disadvantage to have control over them, and more likely also keep people's traits for her benefit.
"well…I think you should be sure. Ask her if that complies with her terms." Mikhail suggested.
"I am not a dog to be commanded!" Kapsar hissed. "I should not be forced to have permission to do what I want!"
"And yet, you are to her." Mikhail reasoned. "Do you want to keep this job?"
"I have nowhere else to go." Kaspar admitted slowly, albeit embarrassedly.
"Then keep your nose to the ground as they say and do as she says." Mikhail said. "Besides, if she sees how good you are, she may be inclined to allow you an experiment as a reward system."
That was a notion enough for Kaspar to smile excitedly.
"I cannot wait…" he said, switching back to English. Engineer glared once more.
Mikhail saw trouble ahead.
The next week when Mikhail was in battle, he could not help but notice how distracted he had become, and how his attention towards battle was always turned back towards Kaspar and Engineer. This resulted in him being killed easily by the BLU team. The opposing team took advantage of his distracted mind and found it quite agreeable to have their enemy of such large size and power, crippled by his own conscience.
His own team, however, had a very different sort of opinion of the Russian. If one was Scout, Spy, or Soldier, they would be quick to remind Heavy of his duties to the team, though each having their own tactics of doing so. If one was a Demoman, Sniper, or Pyro, each would be indifferent to the situation, but rather irked by how his ability had taken a nosedive. If one was Engineer, one wore his disappointment for both his performance (or lack thereof) and his choice of friendship on his shoulder, and upheld a certain coldness that was not missed by anyone.
If one was Medic, however, the utmost concern was shown. So much so, he practically begged to cut him open and find the source of his distraction, believing it to be a physical matter. Mikhail, at long last, allowed him to do so, as long as Kaspar didn't destroy any more of his vital organs.
As Mikhail watched his companion on and off the battlefield move his hands through his insides with the greatest reverence, he decided to end his silence.
"I fear the worst has yet to come." He admitted quietly. Kaspar looked over at his face with concern.
"What?" he inquired.
"This entire business of you versus the engineer…" Mikhail said quietly. Kaspar rolled his eyes.
"Why should that be any concern?"
"It is because of your lack of concern, that I am worried." Mikhail poked.
"If I were to worry, mein freund," Kaspar responded, smiling slightly. "Perhaps my consciousness in the field will drop as yours has, and the administrator will not be pleased. Medics are hard to come by in this profession and I was told I am the only one on their list of first rate candidates. And Helen does not like backup mercenaries."
"And you know this because…" Mikhail pressed.
"She made a snide comment once that I had better not displease her, for she might decide to strand me back in the place I avoid more than anywhere else."
"And that would be…"
"Germany itself." Kaspar sighed, removing his hands and leaning against the operating table. "Yes, there are places very fine in my nation, but the overall memories each place has of my family…and all of our friends and relations…." He trailed off, letting the obvious be pieced together in silence. Mikhail nodded.
"Either way, I believe you should be worried." He said. "how can we operate with a team divided? Forget my inability to fight. What about the team?"
"you believe this is a team?" Kaspar scoffed. "what on earth has made you even consider this a team? Name something personal about another teammate that isn't me." He challenged.
"Demoman took the sciences in numerous schools because he kept on getting expelled. Engineer has 11 PhDs in hard science. Scout has seven older brothers with one dead and the other tiny BLU Scout. Sniper has been bullied his entire life about his form and how it does not follow Australian standards and shuts himself out to Spy, who cares more than anyone else on this team, but hides it to obtain the reputation of being aloof and indifferent. Soldier has not one, but twelve raccoons living with him and had a roommate whom he claims is a wizard named Merasmus. Pyro has been hurt by multiple doctors who have claimed to have tried to help them, and doesn't trust anyone except Engineer." Mikhail listed without missing a beat.
Kaspar was stunned into silence. He sighed and shook his head.
"That does not make us a team. Not even close. You, my meticulously observant friend, are mistaken."
"Regardless, this feud doesn't bring anyone together. It only builds the schism."
"And you suggest what to fix this, hm?" Kaspar inquired. Mikhail reached up to grab the medigun that was suspended over his head, when Kaspar stopped him. He did it himself and resealed the Russian good as new once more.
"You stop this project with the pyro. They are obviously close with Engineer, and it may be better that Pyro is left alone." Mikhail said, watching Kaspar wash his hands at the deep sink. Kaspar made no response until he was finished.
"Mikhail. I will not shy away from a project just because it is not of popular opinion." Kaspar said stubbornly, turning back and approaching. Mikhail sat up and placed a hand over his now healed chest, his hand marveling the work of the machine.
"Don't you see that this is doing more harm than help? This is getting out of hand, Kaspar. It may not be long before someone snaps." Mikhail was on the verge of pleading with the man. Kaspar, though stubborn and determined as he was, saw his distress.
"I have not asked the administrator her opinion of the matter…perhaps we can come to a compromise?" he offered. Mikhail motioned for him to continue.
"If Helen does not approve, my plans cease where they are at. If she gives me permission to continue, then I go through business as usual."
Mikhail mulled it over within his mind and allowed that as a fair assessment and agreed to it. upon his approval, Kapsar wasted no time to make a video call with the administrator. The Russian tried to remain collected and not seem nervous. He had heard a many great things about the administrator and dearly hoped that she did not live to her reputation of being a cold dictator.
The screen turned black for a moment before it connected to the other side, revealing an older woman in purple. She sat up with the dangerous elegance of a cobra, no doubt hiding a venomous bite just under the surface of those cold eyes she gave Medic. She was shrouded in a cloud of smoke, the source hanging daintily within her fingertips. Lips pursed, slightly wrinkled face with makeup perfectly in line, and purple clothing all matched the description of a woman in confidence that she held all the power and might in the world.
And Mikhail did not doubt it for a second.
He noticed how Kaspar changed his stance almost immediately after the screen switched to the connected image, standing straighter and with his shoulders back as if he were in the military.
"Good evening, Frau Administrator. I trust you have had a good day?"
"Save the pleasantries, Rothmann, I know you and I are beyond that unless you want something." The woman stated, her slightly raspy voice only further confirming her bad habit of smoking. Otherwise, she sounded authoritative and demeaning. Kaspar chuckled, shaking his head.
"I admit; you know my patterns far better than anyone else."
"And the flattery means you know I won't like what you have to ask." She added amusedly, tapping her cancer stick against the ashtray side to rid it of the excess tobacco. "Report and state your request."
"Ja, Frau Administrator." Kaspar responded, taking off his spectacles and wiping them off on his vest corner. "No changes of medical means in the team as a whole. Mentally, there is tension."
"Yes, I have noticed in the battle footage. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to report it." she said, a threat hanging off the end. Kaspar chuckled once more, sounding like he was not afraid of her in the slightest.
"Well, I prefer to find out if anyone else notices before I believe it something worth reporting."
"Hardly an excuse."
"I will keep this in mind if anything else arises, I assure you."
"You had better…and what of your heavy weapons specialist standing behind you?"
Mikhail felt his blood freeze cold as her eyes stared right at him. He instinctually stood up straighter, but didn't meet her eyes.
"Heavy? What about him?"
"His performance is disappointing as of the past week. I am beginning to doubt his ability to do his job…I wonder if it has something to do with him bearing no contact with his mother and three younger sisters…"
Mikhail bit his lip but otherwise said nothing.
"Or perhaps it is an issue more close at hand…"
Mikhail closed his eyes in defeat. Before he could say anything, Kaspar stepped in.
"Frau Administrator, Helen, this is a matter that correlates with my inquiry. Mik-Heavy is merely concerned and also the one who was the second opinion I wanted to report the tension." He said quickly, and Mikhail didn't miss the slight apprehension in his voice. "One word from you shall resolve any problems that may arise."
The administrator narrowed her eyes.
"Continue…" she dared.
"I have been for the past week observing Pyro and…the tendencies that…"
Why was he struggling with Pyro's pronouns?
"Should I leave, Doktor?" Mikhail asked, wondering if it was because he was there.
"Please." Kaspar responded almost instantly. Mikhail left without a word, though he gave a curt nod to the woman of power out of respect. She didn't respond nor look at him, instead glaring at Kaspar.
Outside in the hall, Mikhail paced impatiently.
What if she said yes? That would surely cause problems for everyone. Engineer, though Kaspar would obtain clearance, would not stand for it. Yes, he was good natured and yes he was patient with even the most trying of times with the teammates, but if someone took that for granted…well, no one had to be told that Engineer could be nasty. He took a wrench to that BLU Spy if Pyro didn't incinerate him first.
He only prayed, for the team's sake, that the administrator denied him.
Suddenly, without warning, Kaspar threw open the doors to the infirmary and ran past Mikhail. Mikhail was about to call out to him when he noticed what was in his hand.
A syringe full of liquid.
Mikhail felt sick with horror as he realized what he was going to do and ran after the German however, by the time he caught up to him (curse his slower speed) Kaspar was dragging Pyro out of a side room and attempting to throw them over his shoulder.
"Kaspar! I know we agreed on this, but this has gone far enough!" Mikhail hissed in German, trying to keep his voice down, as of they were in the dorm hall, and most mercenaries were sleeping.
"In and out in and out, Mikhail, that is what you are being!" Kaspar spat back likewise. "Decide what the fuck you want and go with it!"
"I will not help you." Mikhail stated. "But I will make sure that you are not hurt."
"Fine. Just keep it down!" He growled, getting the firebug over his shoulders and running back to the Medbay. Mikhail struggled to keep up, but entered the infirmary shortly after Kaspar beat him to it. by that time, Kaspar was hurriedly strapping Pyro in the leather restraints, going as tightly as possible.
"I cannot believe this. I cannot believe she is letting you do this." Mikhail muttered, pacing nervously back and forth.
"This must be done quickly. The anesthetic will wear off in four minutes." Kaspar said, moving fast. With one swift motion, he yanked off Pyro's mask without a care and snatched a large syringe off a side table.
"Mikhail. Hold the head steady." Kaspar demanded.
"Doktor, I said I was not going-"
"Fine, don't!" Kaspar snapped angrily. "But this will be excruciating for my patient if you do not!"
Mikhail's good nature and heart gave in for the Pyro's sake, regardless for his fear of the smaller person. He approached quickly and looked at pyro for the first time, unsure what he was expecting to see. A monster? A demon?
He got a…well…person.
The face was young to be sure with a button nose and slightly rounded cheeks, but it was also fair skinned. So pale, it was sickly. Both eyes were covered and surrounded by thick black bruises that greatly resembled a raccoon, but unnaturally so. Pyro's hair, a slight bronze fuzz was cut short to the scalp with a strong widow's peak upon the forehead. The eyelashes were longer and had the same color as the fuzzy shaved hair.
He still could not tell the gender.
Kaspar lifted an eyelid and Mikhail caught a glimpse of a gold iris. Not yellow. Gold. Kaspar took up the syringe and the Russian looked away, not able to handle what was happening.
"A reverse lobotomy?" he dared ask.
"Rather simple, I know, but this will work." Kaspar responded, pushing the plunger hallway before moving to the other eye. "This is a special formula of my medifluid. Its more concentrated."
"Any side effects?" Mikhail managed out, wanting to throw up. Guilt and nausea clawed at his stomach.
God help me…
"No idea." Kaspar shrugged.
God forgive me…
When Kaspar removed the syringe, now empty, the medifluid's vapor started to flow out of the nose and slightly open mouth, making Kaspar smile. Not in a good natured way. The same way he did when the übercharge was proven to work.
"It is working, mein freund!" he exclaimed excitedly. Mikhail could not hold it back any longer. As discreetly as he could manage, he let go of Pyro's head and rushed to the deep sink, regurgitating the contents of his stomach violently. Kaspar's face turned to concern immediately, test subject forgotten.
"Mikhail, are you alright?" he cried, worry written all over his face. He placed a hand on the larger man's shoulder, only to have said man swing his arm around to catch his wrist and push it as far away as possible.
"Don't touch me…" he growled in Russian, the words spiteful on his tongue. Kaspar looked as if he had been smacked in the face at the tone, though he did not know what Mikhail had said.
A groan interrupted the moment and both men turned their heads to see pyro stirring, sitting up slowly and clutching their head, eyes tightly shut and grit teeth. Kaspar looked back and forth between Mikhail and Pyro a few times before moving to his friend, but was met with a frigid scowl that warned him he was not in any humor for the German to approach. Kaspar retreated and opted to go to his test subject instead.
"Pyro." he said, walking to the other and standing before them.
"Hurts…" came the whimpered reply. Higher pitched and breathy. Mikhail still couldn't rightly tell. He wanted to step in and get the German away from the small childlike mercenary, but his nausea came back and made him clutch the sink for support.
"I know it hurts, Pyro…I know…it'll be over soon, do not worry." Kaspar said softly, encouragingly. He was kind and caring in an instant, the act now up in full swing. Mikhail was disgusted.
Pyro shook their head in distress and made a weak sound of pain, a mixture between a whine and a groan.
"Hurts…"
"Ja, I know…" Kaspar cooed, casually pulling out a lighter from his back pocket. Pyro opened their eyes slightly. Mikhail could tell by the shape that they were doe like and innocent, and turned so when they saw the lighter.
"Rainbows?" Pyro whispered hopefully. Mikhail felt a twist in his stomach, realizing that Pyro didn't know what they were doing. Pyro didn't see fire. Pyro saw rainbows. Pyro had schizophrenia. Pyro didn't know they were hurting people…did they?
Wordlessly, Kaspar flicked open the lighter and lit it up, a small flame making itself known. Pyro smiled for a half second before turning confused.
"But…that's not…" they whispered, their eyes narrowing. There was a moment of silence as both known men stared at the young pyromaniac, watching the emotions flash across the pale sickly face.
Confusion. Doubt. Curious. Pensive. Recognition.
Fear.
Pyro's eyes widened as far as they would go and leapt back, sliding off the operating table with a scream, scrambling to get away. Kaspar could not contain his laughter as he closed the flame away, smiling from ear to ear in victory.
"I have done it! I have reversed the effects completely!" he cried in excitement. "this is a great breakthrough indeed! I-"
"Liar!" came a yell, stopping Kaspar from his rambling and both turned to Pyro, who clutched the counter, gloved hand over their eyes, teeth once more gritted. Water leaked from between Pyro's fingers and ran down their cheeks. They were crying.
"You liar! Both of you! You said you would help me!" Pyro cried, removing their hand and staring at Kaspar in misery. "He said you were not a monster! You both are liars!"
"I did help you!" Kaspar countered. "I gave you what you lost! Your brain is as it was before the lobotomy! I mean, no, you still have to relearn basic skills, bit otherwise you are intact!" he said with glee. Pyro looked pained by his words and shook their head violently.
"They said I forgot everything, and that I was blind! I really was blind! I didn't know-I didn't know-"
"Ja ja, you didn't know rainbows were fire." Kaspar interrupted, disinterestedly.
"I did not know you would take away everything!" Pyro screamed, collapsing against the counter, sobbing. Mikhail gulped and forced his nausea and guilt back. And was about to speak when Pyro cut him off.
"If I can't do my job, she will send me back! Send me back that grey place with locked rooms! I'll never see colors, taste sweets, go outside, have friends, or be with Dell ever again!"
Dell? Who was this Dell?
"I did everything she said so I could be with him every day! You…you took that away from me! You liar! You never wanted to help me for me! You are just like Dr. Carl, Frosier, and every one of those doctors and nurses! Liars, every one of you! You used me!"
Mikhail had never been so ashamed in his life. How foolish…how stupid he was! He never should've let Pyro to Kaspar. This was all his fault…
Kaspar's expression was cold before he sighed and picked up his bone saw.
"You wish for me to…revert you?" he asked. "I was planning on doing so anyway."
Pyro moved back, clutching the counter for dear life as fear was written all over their face and body language.
"It's a really simple thing, you see…respawn updates a person's profile every 24 hours exactly at midnight…seeing as it is 11:18… there is still time for respawn to wipe your system clean…"
Mikhail saw what he was going to do too late. Before he could even think of leaping to Pyro's rescue, Kaspar lunged and grabbed Pyro's collar, pulling them in to meet his blade halfway as it sank into their stomach, sticking out on the other end. Pyro's mouth opened in a silent scream, choking on the blood that came up and slightly coughing on it. The German then pulled it out of the dying body and let them fall onto the floor, blood pooling around Pyro's form and slowly flowing down the drain in the floor.
"I can see why Helen denied my request. Your insanity is your benefit..." Kaspar said to the choking mercenary on the floor, looking straight into the fading gold eyes. "I am many things, Frauline…but a liar is not one of them."
* After WWII, Germany was split into four sections under the governing of the US, Britain, France, and The Soviet Union. In 1949, the three sections that were controlled by the US, Britain, and France were given back to the German people as one united territory named The Federal Republic of Germany, though still overseen by the three nations previously in contYol so no political party would gain more control than another. In the same year, the Soviet Union zone of Germany was renamed The German Democratic Republic (GDR). These two sections were also known in short as Western and Eastern Germany, respectively. However, the governments of each section greatly opposed one another due to NATO and the Warsaw Pact. While Western Germany upheld a democratic government, Eastern Germany was established as a Stalin-style Socialist state, and controlled by the Soviets. Most famously involving the GDR, was the wall that separated Eastern and Western Berlin.
* Hematoma is a solid swelling of clotted blood under the tissue. If severe enough, it may require draining. Most common hematoma that people know of is a black eye, but they usually fade within one or two weeks.
Ch 11 Sneak Peek:
"You and him fought? This is new." The Texan said, crossing his arms.
"Da, last night." Mikhail responded.
"About?"
Mikhail's eyes glanced over to the other mercenary.
"…Pyro." He admitted.
Said firebug seemed to stand straighter. They-she probably was not paying attention at first. Engineer looked between the two people before placing his hand on the taller firebug's shoulder.
"Buddy, I think there's a box of cookies on the top shelf of the pantry. Why don't you go get a couple?"
"Hurdda?" Pyro questioned.
"Two." Engineer specified
"Huddah!" the other chirped happily.
Pyro skipped away with a spring in their-her step. If a mask could smile, Pyro pulled it off. No, Pyro certainly did not remember last night.