Thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you guys like my writing and find everyone to be in character. Enjoy the next chapter of the Coldfront adventure!
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Sniper grimaced, helping Medic ease Spy down onto the rough ground once they reached the cave. His boots were soggy with snow and his legs were freezing. He hadn't dressed for a long stay in the montains, just for a somewhat chilly train ride.
Leaving the grumbling sharpshooter with Spy, Medic hurried over to where Heavy and Engineer had settled Soldier onto the fire blanket. Lifting the medkit off his shoulders, Medic kneeled next to Soldier, who was once again falling in and out of consciousness.
"Get zhe scarf and his coat off. And keep him avake," Medic ordered his two fellow mercenaries, shrugging off his heavy trench coat and uniform gloves. As Engineer and Heavy went about keeping the mumbling patriot awake and undressing him, Medic opened up the first aid kit. Without his medigun on the patient, he had to actually be somewhat careful. With a look of mild annoyance, Medic slipped on the sterile latex-free gloves in the kit. Be careful, he huffed. Like he would ever miss those days of hygiene and safety standards.
"I need light," the former licensed physician said, picking up a probe and forceps. First, to see how bad the damage was. Moments later, a small blue light focused on Soldier's wound, belonging to Engineer's keychain.
On the other side of the cave, pacing with a look of pure fear was Scout, hands nervously tugging at his hat again.
"Oh man, oh man. What are we gonna do? What if we get attacked by bears, or freeze, or starve, then eat eachother. Oh gawd, funny guy always goes first!" A rubber smack resonated.
"Mmphll mpee mphkay," Pyro said, hands on hips as Scout rubbed the handprint on his cheek left by the shorter merc.
"You don't know that!" sputtered out Scout – despite still being on edge, the slap seemed to have stopped his pacing and tugging.
"Yes, we are all going to be okay. Except you. We will have to cannibalize you for the good of the group," Spy monotoned from his seat against the cave wall, nonchalantly smoking. Pyro had placed his folded curtain under the Frenchman's ankle for some comfort, yet whether or not it helped, Spy did not comment on.
"I'd cannibalize all you wankers, if I could get outta here," Sniper added, arms wrapped around himself as he leaned against the wall next to Spy. A few feet away, looking near teary-eyed and in a fetal position, Demoman sniffed.
"Me scrumpy…this is the worst thing to ever happen to me, I swearit!"
"Including the loss of your eye?" Spy raised an eyebrow, removing his cigarette for a moment as he peered around Sniper's legs to glance at the Scotsman.
"I SAID IT IS THE WORST THING!" Demoman pulled his beanie down over his eye after the outburst, perhaps hoping it was all a bad dream.
"He's right!" The demolition expert's exaggeration seemed to have thrown Scout into another fit, and he collapsed down next to his teammate. "I'm gonna die, for real!" Scout pulled his hat over his own eyes, and pulled himself in a fetal position to mimic Demoman.
Sniper, Pyro, and Spy just stared.
"Well then," Spy commented dryly. Pyro went over to the two and awkwardly patted them on the back while mumbling kind words. Sniper just rolled his eyes, tugging his jacket closer.
"Bloody drama queens…"
"They do have somewhat of a point though," Spy remarked, as both men turned their attention to Medic, who was now prepping a needle and surgical thread as Engineer and Heavy tried to keep Soldier awake and talking.
"We will probably be here until tomorrow. Traveling at night would be most troublesome," Spy continued, before reaching into his black coat. He fumbled around his inside pockets before pulling out two items Sniper immediately recognized.
"Ya sneaky bastard! Had to bring your weapons, didn't ya," Sniper exclaimed, staring down at the revolver and butterfly knife his coworker had proffered.
"And I'm sure I will feel guilty about it when I am old and senile. Be useful and go get us food. I would do it myself, but as you can see I am temporarily crippled." Spy held out the weapons to Sniper, who just gave him a skeptical look.
"You do know I have no idea how to hunt in this bloody weather. I ain't about this life, mate," the bushman retorted, glancing away.
"Yes, but you have the best aim, and I have only six bullets. Take Heavy, he will surely be useful out there. And the virgin. He could carry firewood," Spy stated, and Sniper realized the spook had a point.
"You have any other ideas?" Sniper prodded, still very unsure of going out into the snow. Spy rolled his eyes.
"If you insist, I believe it would be best for Engineer to plan our course instead of holding Soldier's hand while he shits. I'm guessing Demoman is a bit incapacitated due to the excess alcohol in his system, and would be the best at holding hands."
"And Pyro?" Spy just raised an eyebrow, like 'do you have to even ask?' Sniper stared back.
"You sure we can't just cannibalize the virgin?"
"I'm absolutely certain 98% of his body is toxic."
"Good point." Sniper sighed. Someone had to do something, and it's been a while since he hunted. It could be fun.
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It wasn't.
Although Heavy stayed quiet, one hand holding tight to Spy's butterfly knife, beyond tiny in his large hand, Scout was a whole other story. He had resisted to going out, complaining that Pyro could tend to a fire just fine with the magazine Sniper swapped from the train, but relented after a few sugary manipulative words from Spy. ("You are much more capable than we give you credit for. Invaluable to the team. Your skills will carry us.")
"Carrying the team," Scout mused, arms full of a few damp twigs. "How do you even carry it? In your arms? On your back?" Sniper grumbled under his breath as Scout went on to gloat about his physical prowess and extremely "large" muscles. The trio had yet to see any game under the white flurry, not even a bird.
"Quiet," Heavy interrupted, cutting off Scout mid-rant. The Russian crouched down to examine something in the snow, leaving Scout with a pout.
"C'mon fatty, you don't need silence to stare at a buncha' snow," Scout complained, bringing the sticks closer to his chest.
"You want not to eat tonight?" Heavy threatened, giving the American a glare, still crouched.
"Yeah, just keep your trap shut, wouldya," Sniper couldn't resist adding, glancing around with Spy's revolver aimed up into the snow.
"This way," Heavy stated, abruptly standing and heading northeast. Sniper followed with no other word, leaving Scout lagging behind.
"You better not get us lost," the Bostonian snorted to himself.
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"Yer doin' great lad, just keep on breathing!"
"I don't think I'm gonna make it, soldier…"
"Quit talkin' like that ye fool! Yer gonna be just fine."
"I see a light, Demo. I think...I think I need to go to it…"
"Don't go! Don't go into the light, lad!"
"I…I just want you to know, you're my best friend, maggot…"
"Eughwawawa!"
Medic tried not to roll his eyes as he concentrated on stitching up Soldier's wound while Demoman let out a convoluted wail of snot and tears. He had spent the last two hours cleaning and suturing torn arteries, and could really do without the current soap opera occurring in his presence.
"You are done, dummkopf," Medic finished, covering the neat stitching with sterile bandages. "You neither died, nor gave birth."
Soldier looked away from the dramatic moment he was sharing with his Scottish teammate to shoot Medic a surprised look.
"I'm gonna live? I'M GONNA LIVE!" Soldier immediately jumped up, as did Demo and the two hugged, letting out manly tears. Wiping down his instruments with alcohol pads, Medic tried his best to ignore the two mercenaries. Too bad the local anesthetic did not fully knock the patient out.
"Mmoldier!" Pyro ran over, and joined in the group hug, and Engineer grinned up from the map he was examining.
"Good to have you back, pardner," the southerner commented, going over to pat his fellow American on the shoulder, even as Soldier was starting to wobble on his feet. Seeing this, Medic stood, up, ready to threaten that if Soldier ripped his stitches, the German doctor was in no way fixing it up.
"Herr Soldier, you need to-ach!" Pyro and Demo yanked Medic into the hug, and the German found himself being jostled and sprayed with tears as his teammates celebrated the successful back alley surgery.
"You're a miracle-worker, Doc!" Soldier slurred, now putting his weight on Engineer and Demo as his blood pressure drop started to catch up to him.
"Vell-"
"Ya really are, lad, could fix anything I bet!"
"Oh, I'm not sure-"
"Mmprdit mpo mpheem!" With Pyro's proclamation, Medic couldn't help but smile, giving into the mirth.
"Well, I don't like to brag, but you're right."
"C'mon doc, don't be modest," Engineer complimented, shooting Medic a grateful smile.
"Say it loud and proud!" Demo cheered, followed by Pyro pulling the group and now unconscious Soldier in a sway.
"Mmpea!"
"I am a credit to the team!" Medic shouted. "I work miracles! My hands are lethal and miraculous!"
"You should register 'em!" Demo whooped as Pyro cheered, earning a laugh from Engineer and the usually stoic doctor. The three continued to sway and yell out compliments, unaware that Soldier's feet were literally dragging now that he could no longer support himself. Across from them, Spy sat, a deadpan expression and recently lit cigarette between his lips.
"I'm still here you know."
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There's a lot more to write, but I decided it was best to cut it off here. Looking forward to feedback! :D