Second chapter! Please leave a review with your thoughts and opinions. :P
Sorry for kind of rehashing the old stuff, but I always like this introduction for the Medic.
Also, my apologies this is a tad shorter than the first chapter. I'll try to keep each chapter 2k+
Five hours later and Tracy was rudely awoken by the sound of yelling down the hall.
She was face down in her pillow, a damp spot of what she assumed was either drool or tears staining the white cover. She rubbed her face, slightly greasy from the heat of the van and neglecting to shower before she fell into her cot. She stood, smacking her lips, her throat parched.
She decided to get a shower before introducing herself. The water spat out cold before eventually warming up a minute later. She scrubbed herself best she could without a loofah, taking her sweet time as she wondered who had been screaming earlier. Didn't Pauling mention a Mr. Doe the night before? He sounded like a hard-ass.
Oh, she was just going to love this.
Padding out naked, water still dripping down her legs, she took out the more casual clothing from her dresser and pulled it on. Grabbing her hoodie from the floor, she pocketed the keys to her room and very slowly opened her door, peering out like a frightened child.
No one was in sight. She quietly opened and shut the door behind her, locking it quickly and began wandering the halls. It was like a maze, just the same concrete halls sometimes interrupted by the BLU insignia.
Eventually, and thankfully, she made it to the common room she had saw the night before. Before she came into view, she could see a few people sitting at the couch, the old TV flickering as it showed the morning news.
Tracy hesitated. Pauling wasn't here it seemed, and she had no idea how these men would react to her presence. Should she just... walk in and introduce herself?
Before she could even make a move, she heard a peculiar sound behind her and was immediately grabbed, a butterfly knife coming into view as it was directed towards her throat.
"I wouldn't move if I were you." Said a masculine voice with what was clearly a French accent. Tracy froze in a second, tiredly wondering why everyone had to pull a weapon out on her. "Gentlemen, we have a guest."
The person behind her prodded her forward with a hand, careful to keep the blade far enough away from her throat so she could move without being sliced. She stepped carefully, her head and neck bent backward at an awkward angle. They turned the corner, the men looking up from their seats.
A few unholstered their weapons, aiming them at her as the man from behind released his grip. He stepped away, revealing himself to be a man in a mask and suit. He put away the blade, trading it for a cigarette case. He took one, lit it, and pulled out a chair and directed her to take a seat.
Sitting down, her hands were taken behind her back a tied tightly to the chair. Tracy immediately assumed the worse, that she would be slaughtered right then and there. The well dressed man seemed pleased with his work and approached her once again.
"What is he, a spy?" A hefty set man asked. From his speaking, she could tell he was also a non-American. Russian probably. He wore a blue shirt and a bullet proof vest, and had a shaven head. He was a very serious looking fellow, with an unflinching gaze.
"Tch, of course not." The frenchman rolled his eyes, "But I do wonder how they were able to get in."
Before she could say her piece, what she assumed was the man earlier who had been screaming stepped forward. He wore a helmet and a military uniform in blue. She couldn't see his eyes, as the helmet completely covered them. "Who cares? He could be working for RED, and that's enough for me."
"Hey hey! Woah! I thought in America it was 'innocent until proven guilty!'" Tracy began backing up, the chair scraping as the military man strode forward with shotgun in tow.
He paused, mulling over what she said. He stopped short, grunting. "Well, you're either an American or a very well educated commie."
He was just stepping back as the larger man began to speak, "So, how are you here tiny man?" He seemed less convinced than the other two, and Tracy suddenly got the feeling he was much smarter than he appeared.
"I was brought here against my will!" She spoke, hoping the truth would convince them. "A woman named Pauling drugged me and brought me here at gunpoint. She said I owed the man who hired you guys a lot of money, so I have to work for him! As one of you guys!"
The group was taken aback by this, and silently looking among themselves as if having a silent conversation.
"I'll call Miss Pauling, see what she says. Keep an eye on them." The suited man disappeared in what seemed to be smoke.
"Did someone mention Miss Pauling?" A younger voice piped up. What appeared to be a blur flashed into the room and turned into the form of a young man. He wore saggy grey-brown pants, knee socks, sneakers, a blue shirt with a shoulder bag, dog tags, and a hat with an ear piece. He immediately paused upon seeing her, "Um, who the hell is that?"
"An intruder." The heavy-set man replied with a tired tone, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"So why isn't he dead yet?"
"Spy is going to talk to Pauling. Intruder says little woman brought him here."
"Aw come on! Miss Pauling never takes my calls." The young man frowned, turning to Tracy. "So uh... did Miss Pauling mention me to you?"
Tracy cocked a brow, staring at the man with a 'is this really the time' expression on her face. "She only mentioned two names I think. A Mr. Doe and a Dell Conagher."
"I'm Doe." The man in the helmet perked up at the sound of his name. "And Conagher is the Engineer. He's probably tinkering down in his work shop right now."
"Either he is spy or telling the truth." The Russian considered her thoughtfully.
"Well, I'm gonna go see if Spy hasn't hung up yet." The bostonian sped out, leaving Tracy bewildered. How could someone run that fast?
Tracy sighed and took to studying the room. It wasn't just a living room. From what she could see behind her was a kitchen area with a large table and many chairs scattered about. The walls were painted blue of course, and the floor was a beige color. The living area was a bit rough for wear, with a dark blue almost black rug and grey walls. There wasn't much in the living room besides the couch and TV, although there seemed to be a small table in a corner set up with a chess set.
In a few minutes, but what felt like hours, the frenchman returned.
"He was telling the truth." He stated as he came around Tracy and released her from her bonds. She immediately rubbed her wrists, pouting slightly as she noticed the red marks. "Miss Pauling had meant to introduce us formally, but the Administrator had more pressing issues brought to her attention."
"So, you are a new team member, eh?" The man with the shotgun approached as she stood. She took a step back, but was relieved as he returned the shotgun to a strap on his shoulder. "Nice to have another man in arms." He forcefully grabbed her hand, shaking it hard enough to hurt. However it was a much more welcome greeting that she had originally received.
"Since you're going to be with us, we might as well introduce ourselves." The suited man lit a cigarette, blowing smoke away from him. "I am the Spy."
"Heavy Weapons Guy." The large man nodded.
"Spy, why couldn't you just hand me the phone? Damn spook." The young man from before came from around a corner, this time not a blur. "Oh, guess he was tellin' the truth? I'm Scout by the way."
"Soldier." The man in the uniform stated as he snapped into a salute. Very patriotic, this one.
They all paused at just sort of... stared at Tracy until she got the memo.
"Oh! Uh..." She stuttered for a second, "Pauling never really gave me a title or anything... I guess Thief?"
"Thief?" Scout became apprehensive all of a sudden, tucking what appeared to be a gold chain under his shirt. "So that's why you owe Blutarch money?"
"Yea... let's say I stole a lot of stuff..." She shuffled awkwardly in place, not appreciating the attention all directed at her. Tracy had always tried to remain at the side lines, away from all the groups and just tried to stay alone. She did have her own small group of friends of course, but they were long gone now.
"Don't touch my things and we will be fine." The Heavy replied before turning around and lumbering back to the couch. The TV was still on, showing the weather forecast. The Soldier took this as a cue to leave the conversation, and walked into the kitchen to begin rummaging through the fridge.
"Y-Yeah, alright." Tracy stuttered, clearing her throat. She then turned to the Spy, not exactly certain how to continue.
The Spy didn't seemed bothered. He simply gave her directions to a man they called the Medic. Miss Pauling had said that she would need to see him before anything else could be done. Tracy nodded and thanked him, but stopped short before going on her way.
"Er... what if I bump into more people?" She really didn't want another run in with someone who could possibly kill her.
Spy turned, "Scout, could you be a dear and let the others know of our new arrival?" He said this with fake sweetness, the Scout rolling his eyes but complied by running down a hall. "The Medic should have gotten a call from Miss Pauling."
Tracy nodded and thanked him before going down the same hall the Scout had. Tracy followed the Spy's instructions as best she could. She finally made it down a flight of stairs and pushed past two sets of double doors until she entered what had to be the medical wing.
The Medic wasn't present, although she could hear what she assumed was his voice in the other room. She decided just to wait for his arrival rather than interupt him.
Rather than just stand around, she had the uncontrollable urge to explore the room. The area was mostly sterile, although there was a few rags on a metal table that were stained with blood. Beside a gurney was something odd though.
It looked like something out of science fiction, a large ray gun that had to be heavy. It had a large handle and a counter on the side that read "ubercharge."
Turning back to see if the man was coming, she was only greeted by his voice still chatting away. Relieved, she turned back and against her better judgement, pulled back the lever.
She was immediately hit in the face with a blue ray of light, almost blinding her. Despite this, she didn't let go of the lever and she felt a overwhelming pleasure fill her body. She inhaled deeply, all her muscles relaxing at once.
She drifted closer to the gun, almost pressing her face against it. It was intoxicating, all thoughts floating away as she closed her eyes.
"Achtung!"
Startled, she let go of the lever and peeled back, knocking against the gurney and nearly falling on her ass in surprise. The feeling of elation fading away as she struggled to regain her balance.
Turning, she finally saw who it was that interrupted her. It was a taller, older man with black hair wearing what had to be a lab coat. He seemed almost amused, adjusting his glasses as he approached her with measured steps.
"Don't you know it's rude to touch things that don't belong to you?" He smiled almost menacingly, and Tracy had the overwhelming feeling she made a mistake.
TBC!
