Chapter 2: Kampf

What better way to spend the day than another battle? She spent hours a day, running across a dry battlefield healing the teammates with low amounts of blood that needed her assistance. Nothing different. She did do her best to pig in on the action of cutting and shooting the opposite team instead of healing her own team, but honestly she did not care anymore. Her anxiety and pain had grown much to strong. She did not even give a care if her healed teammate did not thank her afterwards.

Nowadays, she spent most of the battle sitting in the spawn room alone. No matter how many calls for her were shouted, all she would do is sit in the Spawn room, hoping that they could find a Medkit on their own.

She never really was alone in the spawn room, no. There were always teammates respawning after they had been fatally shot by one of the members on the opposing team. Every once in a while, one would respawn and tell her to go and get on the battlefield and begin doing her job properly, but she would always slouch and reply with a simple 'Nein'.

It was not that she did not want to participate in battle, the fight always got her adrenaline pumping, and it was always healthy to release energy. She knew that, and a lot of other healthy routines as well. But no, it was not the battle. It was the memories that haunted her.

It was not the memories of her husband, no no. It was memories of what happened before she was married. Memories she prayed to forget, dreaded to think about. Jut the simple thought of them made her sick, hurt, and depressed. Now she had two horrible memories on her mind.

This memory, the one that haunted her during battle, this one was much worse. This one, she dreaded to remember. Medic did her very best to not think about it, but just like her husband, the memory never left her mind. It was impossible. It was simply dreadful. And there was nothing she could do about it. It was all too much for her, and she just wanted it to go away. Was there any happy memories she could recall? Any at all? It seemed there were not. All she could even think of was the terrible and painful ones.

Time seemed to go slower when she was depressed. Seconds became minutes and minutes became hours. The longer medic sat there, the more she would cry inside. It hurt her. Inside and out. Of only there was a way to-

"Allo, Doktor?"

It was the Heavy again. He had noticed her sadness today as well, and assumed now might be a better time to talk. Medic did not argue, she did not want to rudely tell him to leave. Besides, she needed somebody to talk to at the moment. She replied softly, with clear depression in her voice.

"Hallo..."

"Is feeling okay today?"

Medic paused at that question. She did not feel OK at all. It was the short conversation they had yesterday all over again. She wanted to say she was fine. She wanted to say that nothing was bothering her. She wanted to say she was as happy as she could ever be, but she couldn't. If she said she was feeling fine, it would come out in tears and Heavy would know something was going on. She would have to tell the truth.

But she was not ready for that yet. Not at all.

"Ja... I... I am feeling better..." Medic lied, trying her best to sound neutral.

Strange enough, Heavy believed her. "Alright... But if doktor is feeling upset, I am here to talk to."

"Danke, Herr Heavy..."

As the strong man left, Medic thought about what might have happened if she had told the truth. Would Heavy have helped her with the problem, or make her feel worse about it? She would never know until she decided to be truthful with him.

But what was the point? Letting somebody else know about her problem would only make her feel more upset about herself.

And all this lying about her problems made her feel even worse about herself. She needed to tell somebody about this soon, or it was going to consume her life.

'Do It.'

The voice in her head kept on forcing her. 'Do it.'

Medic hovered her hand over the telephone. She was not sure if this was the best choice. This would only make her feel like crying more, but she needed to at lease try. She picked up the phone and hesitantly dialed the number on the receiver. This was going to be the last time she tried. Or at least for this week.

Medic put the handset of the phone to her ear and listened to the phone ring on the other end. She waited for somebody to pick up. She was begging under her breath.

"Abholen... Abholen..."

But there was no answer. The phone proceeded to ring. Nobody picked up. This made Medic worry so much more. If she could not contact her husband, how would she know if he was safe? It was so difficult. She did not even know if he was alive...

'What if he is dead?' Medic thought to herself. 'What if he was in a horrible accident, and I am not there to help him?'

She thought about that for a while, and remembered how her husband was so much more medically advanced than herself. Perhaps if he was hurt, he could save himself. But even so, Medic worried for him, unsure what to do. She was here at the RED barracks, nowhere close or near her hometown in Germany. That was another one of the things that bothered her, the distance.

To be so far away from the place she was born gave her a big empty feeling inside. Although she had been with the RED team for a long time, she still felt very uncomfortable around this place. It did not look much like her original doctors office back at home. It looked much more expensive. And not to lie, Medic liked this place looking very nice. But she also hated to be in it. No matter how hard she tried to keep the place looking clean, it always ended up looking like a huge mess. Blood stains on the furniture, stacks of paper scattered everywhere, and not to mention the messes she needed to clean up after her many doves,

Medic did find a bit of enjoyment in this, however. Constantly cleaning up the messes made her feel a bit back at home. Being a housewife meant she had many chores to do, and cleaning up her office here at the base did remind her of how lovely the house looked afterward, and the lovely compliments her husband would give her after seeing what a wonderful job she had done.

But here, there was no thank you for her cleaning work. All of the others never saw Medic as the neat type, considering she had a big red blood stain on her uniform most of the time. It was not her fault, she did not intentionally smear all of her belongings in fluids and such. It just ends up on there when she preformed surgery. To be honest, she did not bother about the blood stains at all, even though it made her look very unclean. They did make her look fearless and care-free, which she was most of the time. But inside, she was calling out for somebody to love her once again.

No amount of small pleasures could cheer her up. The memories of cleaning, the way people looked up at her as a fearless woman, or the appreciation she got from the team for being such a great doctor. There was still that voice inside her crying for the love of another. And it never went away. Never. It bothered her to the point of where she began to drink booze to get over her cravings.

To do such a thing, especially at her age, was very unhealthy. But there was nothing else that came as a pleasure to her anymore other than alcohol. No matter how strong it was or how thick it was, as long as it made her stop feeling like complete garbage she would drink it. Although, when she woke up in the morning after drinking a few too many, she always felt like more garbage than before. But even that, Medic drank like she was being forced at gunpoint.

The team was beginning to question her. She used to be so active on the battlefield and around the base, but now she was just a quiet and sometimes grumpy old lady. And the fact that they did not know why made Medic feel even worse. They would start assuming reasons that were not true and rumors would clearly be spread to Mann Co., and she would get harassed for not acting mature.

There were so many problems she was thinking about now.

The loneliness was becoming the only thing she felt around herself.

It is not a problem if you feel bad about yourself,
But as long as you let that thought roam your mind,
Things will only get worse.
Think happy thoughts.
All you need is one.