The Medic returned home late. His legs had the feel of weights as he lugged them into the base. The Heavy, closely behind him, constantly questioning his well-being. The Medic shook his head, tired of telling the bigger man that he was fine and that the trip was amazing. It was the break he had needed from all the fighting. He rested a hand on the infirmary handle.

"Heafy, you've pleased me. Do not think zat you didn't, for I had a wonderful time. I just haff to check on the Spy. He returned vith no scratches, but I do not believe for eine minute zat they did not mess with him in any way." Medic frowned. "May it be psychological or physical, he is our teammate, and-"

"Doktor works himself too hard."

"It is my job and pleasure," the Medic chuckled. "Plus he is family, ja?"

"Da..."

"So then do not worry. If it is to help family..."

The Heavy stood idly by as the Medic headed into the infirmary. With a pause, the Medic stared at the table with the unmistakable Spy on it. Partially wearing a shirt, his blazer draped over his chest, his pants removed and boxers the only thing remaining. It was possible to see the faintest of a wet stain. His balaclava remained perfectly untouched. One arm draped off the infirmary bed, one leg up and the other dangling as well.

The Medic's mouth was ajar, his eyebrows furrowed and his glasses hung off the bridge of his nose. Behind him, Heavy bit his lip in an attempt to respect his Medic. He couldn't help but find the image amusing for the usually reserved man, on both accounts.

"Heafy, please leave."

His smile quickly faded. "But, Doktor..."

"I haff to work on my patient," the Medic smiled again, turning to the Heavy. The smile, even on the gentle doctor, had its usual malicious intent. "Get out."

With a sigh, the Heavy turned and left, not wishing to be in the room.

"It is never the patient," Medic repeated to himself. Exhaling sharply, the Medic slunk over to the discombobulated man. "Good evening, my little patient," he whispered in the man's ear, receiving nothing but mumbles and groans.

"You seem rather distraught," the Medic cooed. "And a little sickly. We return to fighting tomorrow, Herr Spy. Why are you zis way?"

"I... was... got drunk."

"I see," he murmured, as if he did not know and had to ponder the fact himself. "Was zere others zat may be undergoing such a state of turmoil, or... ze hangover?"

"Oui," the Spy groaned. "Hard hat and... blind guy."

"Ohhh," Medic chimed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, pulling his mouth away from the Spy's ear and removing his glasses with the same hand. He began to clean them as a tedious little thing to do during the interrogation. "Who brought you here... vas it Sniper?"

"Oui."

"Sounds about right," Medic chuckled. "He cares a lot for you. I wish you would acknowledge that."

The Spy gurgled. Medic raised an eyebrow, his face scrunched into an odd, mixed emotion of disappointment, anger and amusement.

"Where are... 'ze hard hat and blind guy'?"

"...who?"

Medic sighed. It was silly of him to think he could get all the answers. "So zey did not come home vith you and Sniper," he continued as slowly as possible, thinking his words through to be thorough. "But zey are in the base, right? Are zey still drunk?"

"... are you... coming onto me? I mean, yer cute... I'll take that... Sniper wouldn't fuck me anyway."

Medic walked out the room, smiling to himself. "No, Herr Spy. Thank you, Herr Spy. I vill be back."

The walk outside was a short one. Medic knew the camper wasn't too far off to the side. He buttoned his coat to its entirety, the cool desert air a contrast from the usual scorching sun. The Medic's hair was slowly turning shades of silver, originally blonde, thanks to the stress of his sometimes reckless team. Aside from his Heavy, the Sniper and Pyro were his main source of relaxation. He slipped his hands inside his coat sleeves, exhaling in large bursts to keep his body warm. The shivers helped as well.

His eyes, a calming baby blue, were frenzied on the field. In the late evening, his felt himself much calmer and de-aging already. It was the only time in which he was not running about screaming orders, being backstabbed by the newly deceased Spy, to his knowledge. He wasn't above fighting, but much preferred to help his teammates. On the field, he felt like God, with the intelligence, healing powers, and the ancient age as well.

"Aiden," hummed the Medic.

The Sniper saw the confrontation coming. He got up quickly, pulling up his pants and pushing away the hand lotion underneath the bed.

"Do clean up vill you?"

Sniper's face flushed. "Clean up whut," he responded, hoping that it was not as obvious as he thought.

"...The usual mess," Medic threw him a bone.

Sniper bit his lip. He wanted to word it carefully in case the Medic was calling his masturbation usual, which it wasn't. Not always.

"You mean... the piss? The clothes?"

"...Yes," the Medic rolled his eyes. "Zose two habits I haff to get you to break. Do hurry, it is cold." The door quickly opened, the Sniper giving a small smile.

"No mess this time around, with all the time from the Spy's return and their Spy's death-"

"Yes, yes, I know," the Medic waved him off mid sentence. "Zis is not a friendly chat and you know zat, so let us cut to the chase..." Medic invited himself in, Sniper moving off to the side rather than protest. He sat himself on the bed, in which the Sniper thanked himself for not leaving any mess.

"Why was ze Spy drunk?"

"Uh," Sniper hesitated. He shouldn't have, for it only led to suspicion.

"You were not taking him drinking for... other reasons, right?" Medic smiled curtly.

"NO, Doc! Can't believe you'd even think that 'bout me."

The Medic chuckled. "I heard something about the Demoman and..." Medic paused. Hard hat could mean two people.

"The Engineer," Sniper filled in. "Yeah, I took the Spy out of the infirmary, you know, because he was just cooped up in the base and he was wonderin' about... I figured he deserved some fresh air. So we went for a l'il drive... he had wore all 'is fancy stuff so I was worried an' I told him to take it off and he did."

Medic raised an eyebrow. Sniper didn't fall for the bait and continued.

"I went to put it back in th' camper, but he was gone seconds later. Y'know... cloaking and all..."

"I vill haff to speak to them," Medic nodded. "Thanks, Aiden."

"You never let me call you your name," Sniper groaned. "Why do you call me mine?"

"We are friends," Medic smiled.

"Friends share names!"

"Good night, Aiden." Medic pushed himself off the one person bed, walking towards the door. "Also, I hear Spy tried to fuck you. Surprised you didn't take him up on it."

Medic smiled to himself as he left, preferring to leave the Sniper's reaction to his words to his own imagination.