"Brandon!" Sorrell rushed over to the downed scout and picked him up, "You have done well, my friend."
He set him on the bench and pulled the sleeve from his decapitated arm to wrap onto the stump that was left on the scout. Dolphus had gone to retrieve his medigun from his locker and ran back to heal Brandon before he died from the blood loss.
"Remove zhe cloth and hold his arm in place, Sorrell," the spy did just that and soon a red mist flowed from the medigun and surrounded Brandon's arm. His flesh and bone knitted back together, and within moments, there was only a barely noticeable scar where his arm had been severed.
"He'll be out for a few hours, but he should be fine if I keep zhe medigun on," Dolphus sighed.
"Aye. So what should we do in the meantime?" Duer scratched at his sideburn tiredly.
"You," the demoman jolted as the medigun was dropped onto his lap by the medic, "are going to make sure that zhe medicine is doing its job. Max and I are going to examine the sample Brandon got us."
Dolphus took his ubersaw back from the unconscious scout and walked out towards the engineer's lab, where Maxwell was already readying the supplies they'd need.
...
Hugo peeked an eye open. He felt heavy, and exhausted. Slowly, he forced himself up onto his knees and looked around. He had no idea where he was, but the sky was pitch black and the floor a painful bright white. It actually seemed like he was sitting in a large dome with no way out.
"What the hell...?" Hugo stumbled as he stood up. Something about this place was familiar. Had he been here before?
Hugo's frown deepened. Actually, he was sure he had been here before many times. Probably very briefly each time he died in battle. If that were the case, then that would mean he'd never spent anymore than a few moments in this place before respawn revived him, and then he'd forget all about even being there.
As the sniper walked in the large empty space provided, he couldn't help but feel that something was off. This place should be bigger, right? Or was it supposed to look like this? He had no way of knowing for certain, but something told him that this place didn't always look like a small island in a void of writhing darkness.
Hugo had no way of knowing how long he paced around in the white space. There was no clock, no furniture, and no exit. With a defeated sigh he sat down with his arms around his legs as he rested his chin on his knees.
…
It felt like hours passed between the spy, soldier, demo, and the unconscious scout.
"Hey," Johnathan suddenly spoke up, "Where is our pyro."
"Probably still asleep in his room," Duer took a swig from his beer bottle, "He sleeps like a damn rock."
"Yeah…" the soldier scratched at his helmet with a mumble and turned to Sorrell, "spy!"
"What?" Sorrell raised a brow as the soldier addressed him.
"You and I are going to get our pyro out of bed!"
"Why not me?" Duer frowned.
"Because you're busy playing nurse! Now let's go, spy!" He wasn't really giving the Frenchman a choice as he dragged him out of spawn.