Sightless

"My name is Ben."

"Aw, it's such a simple name for a simple princess."

"It's short for Benson, you dumbass."

"Still a simple name."

"Now that introductions are over, may we move on?"

"Sorry, Miss Pauling..."

"It's all right."

After the Italian had calmed himself enough, he'd led the Bostonian to a couch. The RED and BLU teams were both there, but some had to be called back from other rooms to join the conversation. To avoid confusion, Miss Pauling had told the men to recite their names, despite the fact they had introduced themselves already amongst themselves before they managed to rescue the brunette. It was going to take awhile before he remembered all their names correctly.

On the BLU team, there was Paolo, the Spy; Jordan, the Sniper; Don, the Demoman; Virgil, the Heavy, and the Medic refused to give his name. Miss Pauling had only a simple letter written in her documents, 'R'. He suggested they call him by class. On the RED team, there was Jane, the Soldier; Tavish, the Demoman; Misha, the Heavy; Stefan, the Medic; Keith, the Engineer; Frederic, the Spy, and his son Nicolas, the Scout. (The Italian had nudged him happily when the French man dropped that bit of information.) The Pyros were nicknamed 'Blue' and 'Red' respectively.

It was going to be very hard to remember.

"First thing's first, Stefan, please lead Ben to the medical room. We need the results as soon as possible."

"Ja."

"Perfect. All right, who volunteers to head out for this wave..."

Miss Pauling's calming but commanding voice was suddenly pierced from existence as a hand grabbed his forearm. His body stiffened and his widespread legs locked together. It was a hand, a human hand that held him, he knew this, but all he felt was a cold grasp of a robot's claw. He found himself shaking. Their were mutters and murmurs. He felt the bindings strap him down. Pinch his skin. The mask. The cold hands that dragged him and bruised him.

"Princess, you're okay! It's okay! You're safe, remember?" his breath rushed back to him in hot waves and he nodded dismally, hesitantly grabbing onto his friend's arm and digging his fingers into the man's suit. Fabric fabric fabric. Robots didn't wear fabric. Robots weren't warm.

"Sorry, Frederic, I'm not leaving him alone right now. You'll have to go again."

"I figured as much."

"Stefan, is it all right if I-"

"Do whatever you please." The German said, shrugging and lifting his hand away.

Ben let out a relieved sigh, continuing to shake as the Italian helped him up. The man steadied him without trouble, allowing him to lean on him and cling on his arm as if he would fall through the floor if he didn't. The meeting in the other room slowly started to fade as they continued their trek.

"How's your knee?"

The brunette coughed, "I-It's better. I ripped the stitches there... but then Gray Mann stitched them back up for whatever reason. I can't move it as much as I could..."

The older man hummed a short note, before speaking again, voice low. "I'm..." he sighed, his free hand reaching over to grip onto one of the younger man's. "Never mind."

"No need to get all touchy-feely on me, dumbass." he joked, short smile twitching at his lips.

He received a light nudge to his rib-cage, but no semblance of a spoken response. It didn't matter. They continued in silence, footsteps padded in carpet as the smell of peppermint faded the further they went. His fingers absentmindedly wrung the man's sleeve, feeling every stitch in the fabric, the entirety of the texture and feeling, the form of his arm. Nothing was metallic; nothing clanked or rattled or clinked or seemed to cut the air with metal forms. It was nice, so nice; but there was a daring thought in the back of his head that if he got too comfortable, he'd wake up and be back on that musty old mattress in that cold, cold cell. He bowed his head, praying this wasn't just a false reality.

There was silence until he heard heavy doors opening, the Medic insisting that they move faster. Paolo gripped onto Ben's arm and guided him quickly to the room, their steps echoing along the tiled floor.

"Take him to the table." the German ordered.

The Scout continued to follow his teammate's lead, the Italian helping him onto the operating bench. It was nicer than the one back at base; it was cushioned well and the pillow was plump and fluffed. He could actually get comfy on this. No more tears in the cushion digging into this skin, no more framework prodding his spine, no more squirming around trying to get comfortable, only for the Medic to smack his arm and yell at him to stay still. He only adjusted himself for a few seconds on this before he was comfortable.

And it wasn't anything like the one at Gray Mann's base.

Stefan muttered something in German as he headed towards them, shuffling papers. "Strip to your undergarments and take off that blindfold. I need to do a full-body examination."

The brunette glanced in the man's direction for a hesitant moment, biting his cheek as he awkwardly shuffled himself out of the pants and shirt the Engineer had given him, throwing them by his feet before kicking them onto the floor. His skin was covered in a short burst of cold air, before it filtered into warm. He took a sharp breath and rested against the table again.

The RED member coughed, "The blindfold."

Ben froze. Right. That. He lifted his head and undid the cloth passing it in the direction of his teammate. Like before, when he had that shower, it felt so weird without it. He kept forgetting it was even there in the first place. Having it gone just... made him remember. His eyelids would twitch as he struggled to keep them closed. If the man wanted it off though, he'd have to open them anyway.

"How did he go about removing your eyes?" the Medic asked, hint of joy jumping in his voice.

"I don't know. He put me under."

"Open them. Let me see."

Ben grit his teeth, clenching his fists tightly. He felt the German hover over him. Despite him struggling to keep them closed, they still felt like lead when he finally opened them. Maybe he was doing it slowly subconsciously, in the hopes he would see again. He knew he wouldn't, he knew, but...

He heard Paolo curse in his native language, the Medic cooing in delight. He tensed as the man gripped onto his chin and tilted his head. He could feel the German inches from his face, who muttered short 'interesting's and 'I see's under his breath. He continued for a few minutes, tilting the Scout's head in nearly every direction before finally letting go.

Ben rubbed his jaw lightly. "...Any chance of gettin' my sight back somehow?" he questioned meekly, throat going dry as he spoke.

He could hear the doctor's pen scribbling down notes before it suddenly stopped. "No. It's impossible to replace an eviscerated eye. Do you know why he removed yours?" the man's voice was light and jovial; completely different from moments ago.

"No..."

"Such a shame." the man sighed in defeat. "I can give you some glass eyes. None of them match so you'd have different e-"

"No. No." Ben took a deep breath, resting his hands over his face. "No. I... I don't want... I... If I can't see I'd just... I'd rather... If... If I could just not open my eyes again... I..."

His voice cracked and quivered, tears lightly touching his fingers and palms as his lip trembled. "I don't... I..."

"There has to be something you can do!" the Spy interjected. "For God's sakes, we have respawn and you're telling me you can't get him his eyes back?!"

The Medic clicked his tongue, "Even I don't know how respawn works, despite experimenting in my free time to try to mimic the effects." there was a short pause. "Oh! There could be a chance! Scout, when did Gray Mann remove your eyes? Was it before or after we got respawn back on?"

The brunette perked up, sitting up as he looked in the man's direction. "You got respawn back? When?!"

"You didn't feel it?" Stefan asked incredulously. "It surged a magnificent warmth in your chest the moment it was turned on."

His mind reeled in the following silence, flooding back to his moments spent in that empty, cold cell where he was alone with his thoughts. His skin clouded with the recollection of the frozen air, muscles cramping as they recalled the small space, heartbeat shattering in his ears as the only thing he could hear. He bit his lip as he journeyed through the confined and blurred journey, a feeling of warmth in his chest never being remembered... He swirled through the memories for what felt like millenniums, before he finally landed to a few days ago where the Engineer had brought him to the showers...

The showers.

Ben heaved a shaky sigh, "Why do you want to know?"

"Respawn essentially collects data of the condition of your body to reconstruct it when you die. When it turns off, it loses the data with it, and it's replaced with new conditions once it's turned back on." Miss Pauling chimed in, her short steps nearing them. "If your eyes were removed after we got respawn back on, we could kill you and you'd come back with your sight."

He lowered his head, curling his fingers into the bottoms of his boxers as he pushed his faced into the side of his shoulder. He closed his eyelids tightly, tears falling freely down his face.

"Sew 'em. Just... sew 'em shut."