Title: Spies Like Us
Chapter 3: Three Stooges
"An' dat should do'it," the Engineer's exhale was followed by a particularly loud "clang" which echoed throughout the cool infirmary. The sound of multiple wings flapping in unison soon filled their ears as Medic's doves fluttered about in distress, startled from the sharpness of the sound. A rain of feathers and straw showered onto the three mercenaries below. There was a disapproving cry from the doctor, causing him to dart to the corner of the room yet beginning another lecture to Archimedes on stealing his syringes. Nonchalant to the one-sided argument between the physician and his doves, the Texan lifted his helmet off his head, fanning himself lightly. "Phew," he sighed, practically collapsing onto a nearby stool. He craved very much for a cold bottle of Blu Streak beer at the moment but a glance towards the wall-clock told him it was already too late for mid-morning indulgences.
"So, she's gonna be alright?" Scout's barely-above-a-whisper voice caused him to raise an eyebrow. He studied the boy beside him through his dark goggles.
"Why don'cha see fer yerself, ankle-biter," he replied with a casual jerk of his thumb. The runner shot the man a questioning look before diverting his gaze back towards the operating table. "Heh, shucks, not like ya to git sentimental, boy," he heard the man chuckle softly.
"Shaddup," he snapped but even that sounded half-hearted. Rubbing at his arm, the runner slowly made his way to the middle of the room. He took his steps heel-toe, as if afraid that his loud footsteps would awake Medic's most recent patient.
The girl had remained still the entire procedure. If it hadn't been for the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the slow rise and fall of her chest, the Bostonian wasn't sure whether he could've kept his cool during the operation. Not like he was doing a great job of it in the first place, though. He mentally slapped himself for the 'incident' with the Medic, the subtle yet searing tinge of embarrassment beginning to nip at him. 'Well, at least it got her safe,' he thought with relieved sigh, his eyes glancing over to the Medigun, which had been positioned above her amongst the operation lights. A dispenser stood by her side to hasten her healing, Engineer having said something about her wounds taking longer to heal because they had been inflicted before the device was planted yadda yadda yadda. There was a click and the glaring white operation lights were shut off with a dramatic "thump", further intensifying the healing blue glow that bathed her body. White bandages criss-crossed her arms, legs, abdomen... almost everywhere, really. His eyes scanned over them, a small frown forming. He knew she was hurt, but he hadn't known she was thathurt...
'That's why girls shouldn't be allowed in fights,' the thought entered his mind before he could stop himself. He was suddenly aware of how sexist it sounded. He blinked in shock at himself, mentally scolding himself-
"Herr Scout-"
"HOLY MACKEREL! I'M SORRY!" the Bostonian exclaimed, instinctively jumping to the side and assuming a karate-like stance. The questioning gaze he received from Medic and the loud guffaw from Engineer was enough to snap him back to Earth. The boy blinked once more before relaxing, clearing his throat... coughing a little as he did.
"Yeah, doc?" he shrugged stand-offishly as if nothing had happened. (much to his irritation, this only increased the intensity of Engineer's laughs)
The German opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Ze girl iz stable now. You can proceed to your room, Scout," he finally said after a moment's thought.
"Ah... Yeah... Sure..." Scout ended each word with a small nod, slowly taking what the Medic said in. The older man raised an eyebrow as the boy jerkily turned around, but a small smile formed as he began a sleepy stagger over to the double-doors. So, he waslying when he said he wasn't tired.
Shaking his head, the German was about to turn towards the mess of blueprints and notes on his desk when he heard a small sound from the entrance. It was a common phrase, one he heard almost everywhere, but the fact that it was coming from Scout caused him to do a double-take. "Sorry, vhat vas zat, Scout?" he called from across the room, wondering if he had heard wrong.
With a hand on the doorknob, the boy glanced over his shoulder. "Thanks, doc," he repeated in a soft mumble.
"Bitte," the doctor said after a few seconds' delay, having been caught off-guard. So, he had heard right... "Now go to bed," he added simply, causing the boy to give a small scoff.
He shot him a questioning look. "And vhat iz so funny?"
"Ah, it's nuthin', you just reminded me of my mah." Engineer snorted at Scout's reply, suppressing his chuckles when the doctor shot him a disapproving look.
"Go. Now." Medic's tone changed.
"Ya see? It's like he's a clone of her!"
"Now," he waved an empty syringe dangerously. "Or do you vant anozzuh check-up like last time?"
"Awright awright, I'm goin'! Sheesh! Calm ya ovaries," and with that, the double doors closed, Scout's footsteps echoing down the empty corridor. The bespectacled man sighed in exasperation, a small headache starting to form as he massaged his throbbing temples.
'At least he's back to normal,' the German thought, dragging himself to the nearby medicine cabinet, rummaging about for a bottle of aspirin. 'Though, I'm beginning to doubt whether that's a good thing or not...'
"You lot are a DISGRACE to this country!"
They should have really seen this coming.
"No better than a bunch of yellow-bellied PANSIES!" Soldier continued to berate them with his already-strained vocal chords. His face - or what they could see of his face - was as red as a tomato and Scout was grateful his helmet was on despite it still being morning; he heard that Soldier's angry glare was enough to keep even Heavy quiet. Whether that was mere speculation or not, he hadn't been bold (or stupid enough) to try. "Do I have to inform the men on top to invest in a new uniform, ladies? A ballerina tutu for the whole lot of you! Especially YOU, twinkle toes!" An accusing finger was pointed directly at the runner, the only one of them that seemed to be scowling at the patriotic madman.
"Aw geez, Solly, we saved a life!" he retorted, feeling that he was being very much unfair. Wasn't he the one praising him for saving her last night?
"And exactly WHO told you to do that, private?" the reply was quick. "Who told you to give a civilian that Medigun doo-hicky which was made ONLY for us? Who told you to go against company rules, eh? Please point 'em out so I can instantly FLOG each and EVERY ONE OF THEM!"
Scout remained silent.
"That's right, you spineless city-slicker! Keep quiet! You'll be doing a lot of that when the boss-lady hears about this!"
"Wait just a darn second there, Solly," Engineer spoke up for the first time since the lecture began. He was still holding his teaspoon, the instant coffee in his cup not fully dissolved. "There's no need to do somethin' like that, now. Let's not be brash."
"Engineer iz right, zere is really no need-" Medic began but was cut-off.
"ENOUGH of your baby-whining, you hooligans! The deed is already DONE."
"Vhat?"
"I took liberty of sending her a telegram this morning when I saw what was going on in that psycho ward of a hospital you have, you TRAITOR!"
"Traitor? I'm not a traitor!"
"You did what?" Scout slammed his hands on a table.
"Now hold'on right there, Medic's not a-" Engineer started.
"- and she will be contacting us TONIGHT!" Soldier increased his volume. "And when she does, she will give each and every one of you proper punishments for your TREASON! I AM ASHAMED for having to do that! The pure MUTINY of it all DISGUSTS ME!"
"Vhat treason?" Medic exclaimed to the ceiling, frustrated at being ignored by the insane man who declared himself their leader.
"That will be all! DISSS-MISSED!"
With an air of finality, Soldier puffed out his chest, did an about-turn and marched right out of the dining room, his heavy boots echoing loudly down the corridors. Each step only nailed down and secured the feeling of utter dread that had formed in their guts. The three of them remained where they were, frozen to the peeling linoleum and with eyes wide as dinner plates.
All around them, time seemed to resume and their comrades - who had stopped to stare at the entire exchange - continued to bustle about the room. Pyro wobbled over to the dining table and placed the already-cold pile of bacon in the middle, giving a muffled "bon appetit" as he did so.
"Vell... I don't know how zis day could get any vorse..." Medic was the first of the three to speak up.
"Oh, don't jinx it, doc, the day ain't over yet," Engineer commented, trying to remain optimistic.
"Seriously?" Scout looked at the hardhat with a sarcastic smirk, though his worry showed clearly in his twitching eye. "Seriously, truckie? How could today get ANY worse?" He gave a shaky laugh. "I mean, there is no wayanything else could top this."
"Now, Scout, I know you're shaken-"
"Shaken? Who me? Haha," the Bostonian brushed off with an eerie-sounding laugh. "I'm just saying that this day can't get any-"
"DOKTOOOR! LEETLE GIRL IS GONE!" Heavy's loud yell echoed from the corridor, drowning out whatever the boy was about to say; the aforementioned boy paled at the words.
"You just haaad to say it..." Engineer sighed.
(A/N: Sorry for the shortness this time, guys. I had another section written up but the pacing was too quick, so I snipped it and placed it in the next chapter. ^^ So yeah, this chapter seems a bit derpy, much apologies)