Mmm... Sorry for the dely, those of you who are mad enough to read this. My co-author went on a mini-vacation, and didn't get back to me about this chapter until just now. She created the soldier and scout in this story, and so... yeah... Story time.

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"A Red is one thing, but a Nazi..." Soldier couldn't even finish the sentence. The two were glaring daggers at each other from across the room. They weren't even looking at each other. Well, they hadn't been at first. But then one of them sneezed, and suddenly, they were trying to claw through their teammates to get at one another.

"Vhat iz wrong vith you, Soldat? Who sed I vas a Nazi?" Medic spat, struggling against the large Russian's restraining arms.

"Look at you, you German son-of-a-bitch! Everything about you screams 'Nazi'!"

They got like that sometimes. Usually after a bad fight against the Blus, where one of them had gotten hurt, and the other could have prevented it. This time it happened to be a leg injury that Medic had refused to heal.

"Dummkopf! Ef I vas, zhen vhy hevn't I killed you yet?"

"Because you're a spineless coward, maggot!"

"Come here und say zhat! I dare you!"

Ever since they first met, they had been like this. It probably had gotten worse... But some days it looked like it had gotten better. Better than the first time they had seen one another, and fired off live ammo.

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"Oh shit!"

"... Well I'll be damned..."

"OH MY FREAKIN' GAWD!"

"Musta been sum sorta glitch in the mechanism..."

"ENGIE YOU DUMB FUCK!"

"Dagnabbit boy! I din do nothin! Now stop yer yellin'!"

"Y'FREAKIN' GUN SHOT 'IM!"

"Nah, we shot 'im."

"IT WAS YOUR SENTRY!"

"Stop yer hollerin' boy, it aint helpin' no-one."

Engineer stooped down to get a good look at the sorry thing. Scout hopped around on the balls of his feet nervously. Between them, a small dark brown mass of fur. Well... It was sort of turning into a red blob of what use to be brown fur. And the red was slowly puddling around it. It was still breathing, despite laying there in a crumpled heap.

Four-legged, and long snout split open. Black lips revealing sharp, needle like teeth, and a long pink tongue that lolled and twitched every second with the ever increasing labor of breath. It wore a makeshift collar, made out of a strip of leather, and a helmet buckle. And an engraved scrap of metal gave it a name. Chester.

"Oooooh my gawd, he's gonna frickin' kill us!" Scout continued his crazed nervous hop, looking around panicked. Not unlike a rabbit, or a deranged slinky.

"'e aint dead yet, son... I wonder if I c'n git the bullet out m'self..." Engineer wondered, pulling out his tool kit, staring at the quarter sized bullet hole in the pup's side.

"D's gonna frickin' kill us, an' we're gonna frickin' die."

"Well, that would be the proper thing t'appen if sumone got killed..." Engineer was horribly calm about this, but then again, he usually was calm about everything. Unless it of course involved his machines. He kept looking between the wound and his tool belt, to back to the wound. And then shook his head.

"I dun have anythin' in'ere tha' cud 'elp..." He sighed and lifted the poor thing off the ground, and handed it to a very tense scout. Who would have dropped it if he wasn't so shocked. "Now, you run this little feller right on over to Ziggy. Man's gotta have sumthin' in that big ol' pharmacy of his." Engineer smiled, despite having his overalls and gloves smeared with the puppy's blood.

Scout turned around, heading back to the base at a full run. Although he kept his sights on the blood covered engineer for as long as he could. A look of, "We are totally going to die" plastered over his features.

"DAWK!" Scout hollered, his screaming complimented by the sound of his shoes skidding on the linoleum floor. The medic twitched from his quiet place at his desk. The music from his victrola still playing softly despite the interruption. Who would have thought Scout would be this energetic, when no one else was? Didn't he tell the young man to save his energy til when he needed it? Like, when they were fighting? "Yh, yh, y'gotta save 'im, man!"

"Thomas, you must calm dow-" Medic had a habit of using the team's names when they got too stressed out. It was a sad attempt at comforting them, but an attempt non-the-less.

"No time! Ches. Shot. Bleeding!" Scout said, pushing the bloody mess of a pup into the standing doctor's hands. He was surprised, but, not as traumatised as the younger man.

"Izn't zhis your brother's hund?" He asked, hurrying it onto a lab table, and preparing for surgery.

"Y-y-yeah. Ches an' I was jus' playin' outside and... An' then Eddy shows up with 'is dumb sentry, an' BOOM! Ches goes down, an'... oh god, D's gonna totally frickin' kill us..." Scout said resuming his nervous bouncing, trying to stay behind the German as he did.

"Calm down, calm down... I don't sink you' brother would go as fah as killingk you. Maybe beingk mad enough to nevah speak to you again, but, nevah killingk." Medic said cutting the fur off one of the puppy's legs.

"W-w-w-whaddaya doin'?" Scout tried looking over the doctor's shoulder. He ended up just getting in the older man's way.

"If you vant zhis dog to live, I suggest you get out, und clean yourself up." He said trying to work as quickly as he could. Scout bit his lower lip, looking between the doctor and the animal patient, and back to the doctor. He stared back at the dog long enough to watch the doctor insert a catheter into the thin leg before slowly nodding. He thought he was going to throw-up. His stomach was churning.

"...O-...Okay, man. Jus' promise me he'll be alright."

"I promise I'll do my best." He didn't look up.

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Soldier walked through the, almost eerily quiet, base, eyebrows knit together, brown eyes narrow and sharp, searching. He spotted Spy, and Sniper in the kitchen, staring quietly at each other from across the table. Their stares like the blades they used. Spy's hands folded neatly in front of him, one hand held a lit cigarette. Smoke curling around him. Sniper quietly drank god know's what in a coffee mug. It probably wasn't coffee though, judging from the time of night it was. Soldier frowned. They were doing it again.

"Look, you two can do whatever you want back in your RV, but not out here." He had already tried convincing them how what they did was immoral, and how they were going to burn in Hell, but, that hadn't stopped them.

"We are doing nothing wrong..." Spy said quietly, his eyes never breaking contact with Sniper's.

"Jus' sittin' 'eah, mate..." Sniper continued while Spy took a drag from his cig, blowing the smoke out from his nose.

"That's what you said last time. On the couch." Soldier folded his arms across his chest. He didn't want to remember.

"Din' do nothin' then eithah." Sniper put his mug down and shrugged.

"But you... And him... And you two were... And in front of my brother too!"

"'e did not seem to mind as much as you." Spy said for the first time looking away from the Australian, and instead at the American. "hat do you want?"

"Where's everyone?" Soldier sighed. He wouldn't win against these two. He knew it.

"Scout iz be'ind you, and zhe others... Are... somewhere else."

Solider blinked. He hadn't heard Scout at all. Maybe he wasn't paying attention. Scout was pretty loud after all. Even when he was being quiet. He turned around, tired of looking at those two... looking at each other, anyways. Scout's eyes were covered with the brim of his hat, he was holding himself funny.

"...It smells like toast in here..." The younger mumbled, looking at the counter.

"Thomas, what's the matter?" Soldier asked. He could always tell when his brother was upset, or something was wrong. Ever since Thomas found a frog with a broken leg, and hid it in a shoebox under his bed. Back when they were younger. He always stood like that. Never looked at people. And he would always try to hang onto the person he was most nervous about talking to. Like, how he was right now. Grabbing his brother's sleeve, and tugging on it gently.

"Uhm... I ah... I got sumin' t' show ya..." He said, leading Soldier down the hall. His hand had slipped and fell into the other's. Clutching it like a vice. Soldier frowned worriedly. This was worse than the frog. Worse than breaking grandma's cookie jar. Worse than... Well, probably not as worse as when he spilled grape juice on dad's suit. And definitely not as bad as when he cut up his older brother's military fatigues to make dresses for their sister's dolls. But, it was still pretty bad. Soldier's hand was starting to hurt a bit...

Wait a minute. He knew this part of the base. Well, he knew every part of the base. But... He knew this part of the base, and didn't like this part of the base. At all. This was the Nazi's section. The section that Soldier tried to avoid at all costs. Why in the name of g- ...

Medic had his back turned on the two Americans. His shoulders slumped a little. He pushed away the IV drip that was close by, and removed the tubing from whatever he was working on. Probably some stupid genetic experiment gone wrong. He turned, and pulled off his bloody gloves, dropping them on the table. Yeah, some stupid genetic experiment gone wrong. A stupid genetic experiment with brown fur. ... That... Looked oddly familiar. Scout's fingers were digging into his brother's skin as his eyes grew wide.

"What. The. Fuck. Did you do to my dog, you fucking bastard." Medic paused and looked up at him.