(author's note, I will be reworking the start of this chapter later, but for now I just want to keep my positive flow of creativity flowing. Don't stop me now, because I might not get back on the creativity train for a while! Keep the reviews up, I want to know how you feel)

Chapter 3 – Preparations and Promises

The Medic had seen better nights of sleep, but considering that he had slept on a makeshift bed of clothing it wasn't all that bad. The Sniper was back at his favourite spot and back to his job of clearing out the surroundings. The Medic suspected that he had been awake for a few hours.

"Like zey say in Frankfürt, "Guten mörgen." He wiped some dirt from his glasses, inspecting them slowly.

"I've been waiting for you, doc."

"Vhy so dramatic?" The Medic stared uneasy.

"Because we need to go out. This morning I established contact with "your" Engie" The Sniper pointed at a radio (I can't think of the word, sorry) nearby. He's holding out easily but he can't get leave his sentry gun."

" What else is new?"

"He's running out of food." The Sniper stared at the stack of soup cans. "We've got to get him."

"Vhile it's great to hear that "our" engineer is alive, can't he just get here on his own?"

"Really, doc? You and I both know that Truckie minus sentry is dead meat in most battles. He's made for building, not for fighting. He relies on his team to protect him, while he does his job. We're his team, doc. And we're going to get him. Get whatever you need. We're leaving in ten." The Sniper gave the Medic an ice cold stare.

The Medic sighed, realizing that the Sniper was sticking to his idea of going out. "Very well zen. Vhere is he?"

"A few blocks away, out of my sniping reach. Which means..."

"That we vill encounter zem."

"Yeah. Get your über ready." The Sniper started collecting SMG ammo, and putting it in his backpack. As usual before he went into combat he went through his check-list twice. He cleaned out his Sniper rifle with just as much as precision as was humanly possible, and orderly put two clips of SMG bullets in his back pockets. Just to be sure he also reached for one of the pistols he had "borrowed" from the scout, fully loaded.

The Medic observed one of his own weapons from the Sniper's collection. The blutsauger, as he nicknamed it. It drained the blood of anything struck by it and gave it to the Medic... A sudden realization made him drop the gun. If the Medic fired this at a zombie he could get infected himself. And, based off Sniper's story the creatures could only be killed by weapons that deliver more of a punch then his syringe gun. Uneasy, he reached for a shotgun, like the one Heavy sometimes used (if he wasn't using his sandvich, that is). Then again, he would not be able to hold the shotgun and his medigun at the same time.

He looked at all the guns lined up. To his surprise even one of Heavy's miniguns was there, the Tomislav. Outside of that he had every weapon (but the heaviest of Heavy's miniguns) twice. Eventually the Medic settled on one of the Spy's revolvers, the one he knew had the biggest impact. A snub-nosed revolver with a pearl grip, half covered in blood. Next to it hung a second one, along with a few small boxes of ammo for it. The Medic held it in his hand, guessing the weight of the gun. Eventually he settled on holstering the two pistols like the kind of cowboys in cheesy western movies. After placing as much ammo as he could in his satchel he was ready to go out. As a final touch he put his medigun on his back and his bonesaw within reach.

"I am ready." He struck a pose as he started overhealing the Sniper.

"Good. Doc, one more thing." The Sniper reached for a leather strap with flat magnets on one side. "Put this on and you can carry a shotgun on your back." On his back he had attached another Sniper rifle and some ammo.

The Medic once again stared at the wall of weapons. "Perhaps zat one vill...nein..."

"Get on with it!" The Sniper shouted out.

"Ja, ja." The Medic reached for the Heavy's family business (an odd name for a shotgun, but then again, everyone in the team had named their weapons) and strapped it on his back. For a moment he felt very sad as the realization of Heavy's death suddenly sunk in. He had lost his biggest friend...forever. Heavy was never coming back. The big, bald, friendly Russian got infected by that bite...his insides slowly rotting.

"I could have prevented this...but I didn't know."

"Know what? " The Sniper checked his weapons for the fifth time in two minutes.

"Nozing. It's nozing." The Medic stared at the Sniper. "Promise me."

"Promise me zat if I...get infected, zat you kill me. On ze spot. I do not vant to go through vhat your heard-hatted friend went through."

"Promised." The Sniper held out his hand "As long as you do the same to me."

"Gut." The Medic shook the Sniper's hand. "Now, let us get ze Engineer."

"God save the queen!" The Sniper kicked open the door, ready to face hell itself.