Day 3

Is the Medic suffering from the SPACE Madness?

Medics 'day' started horrible. In space, there is no reference of time. When you sleep, it's dark. When you wake, it's dark. If Medic slept thirteen hours of or thirteen minutes, it made no difference. He was exhausted to say the least. He woke up with Heavy singing 'Di quella pira' in the space sonic shower. Somehow, the giant burst from the restraints of the space bed overnight, made a large mess with leftover space tube paste and left wet towels all over the floor.

Medic had the brief thought to stay in bed all day, but his aching body from sleeping in that rock hard bed told him otherwise.

Medic was able to find a mirror buried under a pile of work-woman skin-magazines in a cabinet when looking for soap to eat.

Medic looked worse than Halloween last year. Dark grey, puffy bags under his eyes with his pasty skin. All waxy looking with deep wrinkles and sleep lines deeply cut from the harsh linens of his bed. His dilated pupils had deep red coloured veins surrounding them. His black hair so oily and gritty between his fingers, he gave up trying to do anything with it.

And it's only been three days.

"That is not normal." Medic told himself, "People are not supposed to cultivate in space. Just like we can't breathe in the sea or fly like birds. We're designed to live on land."

Medic's thought's were beginning to take a darker turn then what they were accustomed to.

"I could be down there right now... secretly implanting muscle ticks into the Sniper...but no... I'm here. staring into the abyss."

Medic also began to be more panicky. Medic was never much of a smoker, but he was willing to give an arm and a leg-someone else's that is- for a single cigarette to null the stress. Medic paced the coffin-like bathroom, he felt trapped like animal yearning for release. He was forgetting what it was like to hold a man's warm, slippery organs sliding in his bare hands. The feeling of blood ticking down his arms and staining his sleeves. The slishing noise of cold metal craving into soft flesh- he fidgeted and pulled at his clothes, wringing his hands and fingers. His mind was racing at a mile a minute without a single thought. This was what it felt when he had his first mental breakdown. When the familiar claustrophobic feelings crept inwards, Medic found himself back in the common area where Heavy was reading. The Russian behemoth smiled at the Medic when he entered the room. Medic settled for sitting at the dashboard. Medic found his eyes settling on a single, bright red button that said DO NOT PRESS, and darted them away. He focused anywhere besides Heavy, who he felt was secretly judging him from behind his 1944 edition of Big Guns Weekly.

"Perhaps I should start on my taxes. " The Medic muttered to himself, "Don't want to get any of those penalties. Keep myself occupied-" Medic had brought up the habit of talking to himself as of late. Like the Heavy wasn't even there.

"Say 'space taxes' Heavy and I will kill you." Medic said before Heavy spoke.

"Was going to suggest you start estimated taxes."

Medic didn't bother replying and grabbed the only novel on-board which happened to be the famous children's novel, "The Poor Pauper and the Pulp Mill." and moved to the other side of the room. Heavy followed a few moments later with the tray of tea. The very same from their first day here.

"Tea Doctor?" Heavy asked

"YES." Medic snapped but then continued in a slow tone, "I mean, yes. Fine. Only sugar. No tea."

"No milk?"

"Not this time. I don't trust that space variety."

"Is best! Had to eat expired space food when I was boy."

Medic took his cup, sipping slowly as he picked his words carefully.

"I supposed that explains your stunning intellect."

Heavy put down his spoon and calmly crossed his arms. "And what do you mean by that?"

Medic wasn't going to continue but his mouth magically opened and words came out.

"Just saying that the harmful, inferior food you ate as a youth did benefit your size. But definitely not your brain."

"You calling Heavy stupid?"

"No, Heavy I- YES! I am. I AM calling you stupid! Stupid! Stupid! STUPID!"

"I am not stupid."

"Katzenstation Heavy! You don't even use proper pronouns most of the time! I've been living in America much less time then you and I'm perfectly fluent!"

"What about you then?! Always switching between English and German! Using German phrases randomly in your sentences! You could be saying anything and no one would ever know!"

"It's not MY fault no one bothers to speak classic High German as they should. You however, can barely speak your only language!"

Heavy stood. He didn't look like a happy clam.

"I am sick Doctor. And not the normal sick. I'm sick and tired of people thinking that I'm stupid giant-man. That I'm slow and fat and naive and stupid. I am not stupid!"

"That is the third time you said stupid." Medic said smugly.

"Another thing! You always contradict Heavy! Condescending! Putting Heavy down! I am tired of it! I want respect!"

"Perhaps you should have should had thought of that before you kidnapped me!"

"Not kidnap! I just wanted bonding time alone with Doctor! Is that too much to ask!? Like time, we were going to Aspen-"

Medic pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, "Not Aspen AGAIN."

"I spent whole pay-check for Christmas, and you cancelled last minute."

"I had a headache!"

"You always have headache! You always busy! You are always cranky and mean! You never want to spend time with Heavy! There is always battle next day! Always work to do! You are only happy when working! You don't what you missed!"

"I'm overworked and overpaid! You would be too if- wait? Missed?"

"Missed Doctor! Missed what we had!"

"What are you talking about!?"

"Doesn't it make sense yet? You were the only one who knew my dream of traveling into space! You only knew!"

"But, no- Engineer, and Demoman-"

Heavy sighed sadly,

"Why can't you see Doctor? Last battle at Hightower? Little Soldier shot rocket at us?"

"But- But Pyro was there. He repealed it the last second-"

"No he didn't Doctor. I stood in its way so you would live."

Medic broke into a cold sweat. He couldn't remember a thing. "But-"

Heavy spoke quietly and sombre, "My death drove you to madness. You could not bear with the pain my sacrifice left you. You went mad Doctor. Re-imaging everything, even believing the lies your brain was perceiving. You decided to fulfill my only dream and blasted yourself into space. Intending to die yourself."

Medic burst into tears, grasping his head forward as he fell forward onto the floor. The exhaustion and stress from everything finally broke him. He finally snapped. Just like his father predicted.

That was until, Medic's grey cells began to do their thing.

"Wait then, that makes no sense whatsoever. Even if you did die, Respawn would had brought you back."

"..eh."

"And with my photographic memory, how would I forgot all this happened?"

Heavy stared in silence. It was so quiet you could hear the fan from above.

Oh nein, sie hat nicht Heavy" Medic screeched, "You would go that length just to make me feel bad! I don't have to sit here and take this- nonsense! I'm getting off this ship whether it's the last thing I do!"

"I don't believe it!"

"I mean it! I rather risk suffocation then stay another moment with you in this scrap heap of a rusted garbage can!"

It was like a shadow grew on Heavy as he loomed over Medic's frame.

"Take it back." Heavy warned.

"No."

Heavy attacked first, swinging his might girth of a fist like a club towards the Medic's face. Medic sprung backwards.

"IT IS AN ALLOY COMBINATION!" Heavy roared, swinging again.

Medic however, ducking to the side, dodged the punch within inches. Rolling like a tumbler with a broken leg, Medic got to the weapons rack and grabbed a space pistol. So much for Heavy being a figment of his imagination.

"Don't make me do this Heavy." Medic warned, pointing the weapon straight.

Medic suddenly realized that this was what he wanted all along. He shot at Heavy, missing the man's head by a little bit. Heavy, surprisingly limber, somersaulted and jumped-kicked the gun out of the shocked Medic's hand. Now unarmed and out matched in the gymnastics department, Medic took out his bone saw from behind his back and swung with all his might towards the Heavies underbelly. With a swift move, Heavy grabbed Medic's wrist, flipping the man up and slamming him onto the ground on his back. With a swift moment of his own, Medic reached back and poked Heavy in the eyes with two fingers and rolled away as Heavy clutched his face in pain.

"Ow"

Medic kept rolling out into the hallway, got up and ran like a banshee who had to use the bathroom. Medic found a good place to hide behind a locker and hid in the shadows. Medic was used to this, it was how he lived through every school day. He could hear Heavy run around in confusion and anger.

"Face and fight me! Fight me man to man!"

Medic had no intention to fight Heavy head on like before. No, this time he would be sneaky and Spy-like. Once Heavy would be close enough, he would stick the fork he was hiding down his pants straight into the side of the big brute's neck. With precession and luck, the utensil would sever the aorta artery, slowing him down for at least ten seconds before Heavy's Russian healing factor kicks in. Medic finally knew why he thought hiding a fork down there was a good idea.

"Oh Heavy!' Medic sang in a sing song voice, "I'm smearing the portholes with unprotected fingers! I'm getting my oily residue all over the glass!"

With another roar, Heavy lifted the entire locker up and over his head. Medic laughed manically, pleased his plan worked as he jammed the still warm fork towards Heavies exposed neck. However, Heavy caught the fork with his teeth. With a pull, Medic yanked the silver food-instrument and tumbled backwards.

Heavy was going to deliver the final blow, yet hesitated with fist hovering. Medic used this weakness as an opportunity to thump Heavy's temples with open palms and slip under Heavy's legs. Exhausted, Medic refrained from escaping, settling for resting on the cold, plastic floor. The pair both stared at each other. Panting and breathing heavily like a pair of fat boys in front of a cake-shop window. Medic finally stood.

"I'm leaving Heavy. Nothing can stop me. The line must be drawn here. This far, no further."

Heavy chucked a space helmet at him.

"Fine!" Heavy roared, "Then leave! Me and Simon will have a much funner time without you!"

"Who?"

"You know? Simon? The engine crewmember I hadn't mentioned out loud until now."

"Oh yes, Simon." Medic suddenly remembered," The un-noticeable, sneaky one. Where is he?"

"He's been in the hold. Quietly working for entire time we were here."

"Let's go see him."

"Yes."

The pair made their way towards the bottom of the vessel, ignoring the injuries from the battle they endured together.

The bowels of the ship were dark and dank like a coastal cave. But not as dark and dank as a basement suite found in the bad side of town.

They found the remains of what looked like a two day breakfast on a little table next to a comfy looking cot in the corner of one room. It

Medic shivered

"Ensign Simon! Come here for report!" Heavy bellowed.

But no one came.

"See, even Simon left." Medic muttered.

The scent of copper filled the air. Like a bloodhound, Medic jerked left, his eyes narrowed.

"B...positive...? Blood?"

Heavy followed Medic through the labyrinth of dark, tight hallways. Medic felt at ease for once, hoping that a collection of blood samples could be salvaged. But instead of a well stocked blood-bar, the pair were met by a space monster.

The creature was spider-like but five, thick, hairy legs on either side of its bulbous body. Yellow-grey mucus dripped from orifices on its jet-black, hairy exoskeleton, leaving a thick layer all over the floor. It held the poor red-shirt's-I mean Simon's head in its talons. With a single squeeze and a cracking noise, gloopy innards slid from it and into open, slimy jaws. The monster slurped and sipped, not noticing the pair as they stood pressed against the wall.

"Doctor." Heavy whispered, "I will distract it. You get back to cockpit and lock yourself-"

Medic screamed and ran at the creature. Fork raised, he plunged it straight into one of its left eye like Ulysses blinding the Cyclops. But instead of screaming 'Noman' instead of 'help' like a normal Cyclops, the beast below made a painful shriek of confusion. By the time it raised one of its own front leg to fight back, Medic already stabbed the fiend in the belly four times, craving out more gooey holes. The Alien swung it's lobster-like tail in a swoop towards the Doctor, but Heavy grabbed onto it, preventing from clubbing him. The thing was helpless, as Medic delivered stab after stab until it laid dead upon the ground. Heavy noticed Medic wasn't finished as the Doctor pushed his hand into the being's chest and pulled out it's black innards. Screeching another battle cry, Medic squashed the organs with one contraction. After that, he kept pulling out more and more like a wild animal, grinning madly with thick, dark blood covering his front. He stood, panting, staring at the body with wild glee.

"Doctor" Heavy said gently, "Doctor, he is dead. Can do no more."

Medic jumped slightly as Heavy laid a hand upon his shoulder. He looked startled and confused, almost coming to a realization of what he did. He gave Heavy a massive smile before collapsing into a faint.