I changed Pyro's pronouns after a small re-reading because it felt wrong and Pyro's typically referred to as 'he' in the original source.
"Pauling. Come here. Now."
Miss Pauling's hand was on the doorknob of the Respawn room. Turning her head, she wondered whether she had time to come in, check if everything was alright and go see what the Administrator wanted. Maybe she could, if she was fast enough.
She turned the doorknob. She wasn't able to open the door.
She pushed, almost slammed herself against it, but it was no use.
She was starting to get nervous but she couldn't insist. She couldn't keep her boss waiting.
"It was about time."
Pauling made her way through the fog produced by the Administrator's cigarettes.
"Sorry." was all Pauling said.
"Do something more useful than saying useless apologies and get that. It's the new contracts for the mercenaries. Let's see if that encourages them to do a better performance in Hydro next Wednesday."
"Wednesday?!"
Oops, she didn't want to say that so loudly. Now the Administrator had turned around her chair and was looking at her with a frown.
"Yes. Wednesday. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday...Do you know the days of the week? I'm glad you passed First Grade. Wednesday, I said. Why? Is that a problem for you, Miss Pauling?"
"Uh, no, of course not."
"Then stop losing time and go."
Miss Pauling nodded nervously and rushed out of the room.
Wednesday...That was the day after the next day. The mercs couldn't fight in such condition. Miss Pauling could see it: they're fighting the BLUs, it gets dark, they become furry and blood-thirsty, they kill the BLUs, they win, of course, but now the other team is infected, suddenly there's not nine but eighteen werewolves she has to take care of, the battle becomes a dog-fight, too many people to control...God, did she need air.
They had to find the source of the curse quick. Like, that same day, because she didn't know how long the process would be.
She knew the mercenaries were working on it, so she would do her part by contacting Hale. Given all the complaints about the quality of the weapons he sold to them, there would be nothing strange about her being there.
There was no time to see what the problem was with the door of the Respawn room. While she waited to be attended by Hale—she came first but influential clients arrived and she was asked to wait for like two hours and a half—, she made a call to the security guards.
"Yes, there is indeed a problem, Miss Pauling: you did not return the keys."
"I what? First of all: I didn't ask you for the keys."
"Of course you did. You asked me for the keys to the room. You signed the register."
"I've never been in that room, I couldn't have-"
"Miss Pauling, let me tell you something: you should slow down a little bit. All that work is affecting your memory."
Pauling wanted to be there to punch that lady's face but Bidwell was in front of her and she had to hang up.
"Mr. Hale will receive you now."
She stood up, going over the words she had prepared.
"I guess you understand how important this is." Miss Pauling said, slowly, pronounciating carefully, as if she was talking to a small child.
Hale caressed the tip of his mustache, ruminative. There was a moment when Pauling thought he hadn't understood a thing.
"Yes, this is big. It means I can finally have that werewolf farm I always dreamed about! Farm and circus! I will breed those beasts so I can fight against them in the arena with my bare hands, make coats out of their fur, eat their-"
"No, no, no. No." Miss Pauling interrupted. "This is bad. Very bad, Mr. Hale. We need to end with this."
Hale turned towards Bidwell. He nodded, agreeing with Pauling. Disappointed, the Australian sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"Alright, alright...What do you need to know?"
"The Burly Beast. What kind of spell did you use with it?"
"Ah, yeah. I remember. A werewolf curse for a werewolf costume. It's bloody obvious, isn't it? I traveled to the Balkans and bought a bottle full of werewolf hair to an hermit who lived in a cave and smelt funny. He said it was fur from an Arcadian wolf, told me about some cult of shape-shifting men travelling to the North, going corrupted, making deals with devils, bla bla bla. Boring stories. Poor blokes who come across one of those and cannot escape unless they kill the one who bit them or die themselves as good Christian men."
"What? The sire?"
"Yeah, the sire, if you want to put it that way."
"But...Then, the sire in this case is..."
"Guess it's the one who wore the costume and spread the curse. Yes."
Miss Pauling placed her hands on her cheeks and rubbed her face slowly in denial.
"...Oh, no...I hoped there was another way..."
"Don't feel bad. I had to kill one of my best men this morning too. Leslie, his name was. I should have asked him for his carrot cake recipe..." Hale sighed.
Miss Pauling walked out of the office as if she just woke up from an unpleasant dream. She wished she was dreaming.
Medic was a good doctor. The best they could have found. He would be terribly difficult to replace. Also, he was clever. That was a problem. How would they kill him?
Respawn. She hadn't been there that morning. If someone asked for the keys and didn't return them, that wasn't her. Pauling had an idea of who actually did it. Spy. It had to be him. She had heard the others: Spy wanted to end with this, he wanted to try that desperate measure, against the will of his teammates. If she knew him well, he had disguised himself as her, gone into that room, manipulated the system and closed the door. He was a terribly good actor and knew so many things that there were times when she wondered if it was a good idea to let him know so much.
If there was someone else who had another set of keys, that was the Administrator, but no one could ask her. Not even her.
So. It was safe to say that Spy was the one behind the sabotage to the Respawn room and, if Heavy hadn't stopped him, would be on his way to kill Medic.
She grabbed her mobile phone and called the base. Anxious, she bit her nails.
"Miss Pauling?"
"Yes, it's me, Demo."
"Well, who else could it be? Is there a problem?"
"Uh...Is everything alright around there?"
"Aye, everything's fine. Did you find something? Do you know where Spy went?"
"No. I...I'll be there in a while. Before night comes, I hope."
"Are you sure you're alright?"
She hanged up without replying.
She only had to options: going back to the headquarters, finding a way into Respawn, repairing the problems and telling the team what she had found out or...
Biting her under lip, Miss Pauling hopped on her scooter and drove away as fast as she could.
Sniper was the only one allowed inside the infirmary for the moment. Medic was still too angry at the others for that backstab. But it was alright: they understood each other and were not afraid of the wolves inside of them. All the contrary: they talked about the matter for long. Medic used to do that with Engineer when it was just the two of them, but he only wanted to find its cure and never paid attention to its characteristics.
"Seems like your birds aren't afraid of you." Sniper commented, watching Archimedes and Diogenes on the Kritzkrieg.
"Ja. I would never eat my precious things." Medic cooed his doves, caressing their feathers. "It seems the feelings for the ones we love the most remain. Take Scout and Miss Pauling for instance."
"Hm. There are nights when all I think of is tearing her to pieces and devour her remains. If it wasn't for the others, I guess I would."
"Confidentially, me too." Medic giggled.
"Guess we don't like each other enough. Otherwise, we wouldn't have bit and eaten each other."
"I do wonder what level of affection it takes for a werewolf not to attack a human being."
"What a pity you can't get volunteers for the experiment."
"Well."
They knocked at the door.
"Go away." was Medic's immediate response.
The door opened anyway. Heavy came into the infirmary.
"Doktor, I want to talk to you. Alone." he said that glancing at Sniper.
"I think we have already said to each other everything that needed to be said." Medic severely replied. "Why don't you leave? It will be night soon. You'll have to get your dog-cage ready."
"Please, Doktor."
Medic looked at Sniper. He walked out of the room in silence, with his hands inside the pockets of his pants. He closed the door.
His leaving didn't make them talk. Heavy wait a little while to speak again.
"Medic, I do not want to hurt you and I will not let anybody do it. You are friend."
"You are going to make me cry." Medic mocked him.
"Why you don't believe me? After all this time."
"Heavy. I found out that the people I broke my back for—sometimes literally—has been plotting to kill me. They could have asked me if I was okay with that, found an alternative together, but no, they make a secret gathering, vote if they want to sacrifice me or not as if I was some kind of Christmas turkey, and don't even ask me if I want to do it."
"Would you sacrifice yourself to end the curse?"
"No! Of course of not! That sire thing is so stupid!"
"I also believe there has to be another way."
"Sure. Sure there has to be. Look, I know this is...let's say annoying, but, come on, we are used to be decapitated, blown apart, shot at. We've been battling for years. Can't we wait for a while? Until we find out how to neutralize this? I am sure we can find a cure. In the meantime think about it, Heavy: I can help you with the pain, make some experiments that may allow us control our lust for blood."
"Are you sure about it, Doktor?"
"Sure. Do you think I like being a werewolf?"
"It looks so."
"Heh."
"So. We are okay?"
"Hm. I guess." Heavy had his arms open, but Medic just smiled and turned around to put his bird's snacks away. "It's too soon for that. I still don't like that you reprimanded me like if I was a toddler."
"You will still be here for the night? Or you are coming?"
"Very well. As long as you open the windows this time and let a bit of-"
Medic stopped. He saw Heavy's reflection on the surface of the negatoscope behind him. Too close. Then, a cloud envolved Heavy and, when it disappeared, there was someone smaller behind him. Spy. Holding his butterfly knife.
Medic turned around and punched Spy in the nose. The knife fell to the ground and they struggled until Spy pushed Medic against the negatoscope, with such force that the screen cracked. Spy chocked Medic with one hand while the other pulled out his revolver. Medic tried to release himself while reaching for the gun. He got to grab Spy's wrist.
"Hurensohn..." Medic hissed.
Then, he flinched. He noted that Spy did too. It was getting difficult to struggle. Their bodies felt heavy and it was getting difficult to breath.
"I can make a hole in your skull...or...rip out your throat...What do you prefer, Docteur?" Spy murmured, his voice trembling but still deep and threatening.