When Heavy made it back into Medic's office to supply his comrades' stocks, the doctor had just completed his tinkering with a rather large sized liver. It also appeared he had company. Demo was sat on the operation table, a deep gash in his side and a fresh needle sticking out from his neck.

"'Eeeey! How goes it, Rasputin?"

Heavy cast an unimpressed look towards Medic, who in return shrugged loosely. "I don't know if he's hallucinating." He tried waving a hand in-front of Demo's glazed expression but received no immediate or outward response.

"Where do you think you are, Demo?" Medic tried again.

"Let's see..." The Scot took a careful look at his surroundings. Blood. Blood everywhere. "Oh, is that mine?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!" A hearty chuckle. "That is your blood!"

"Can I have my liver back now?"

"Just a little longer." Medic tossed it back down onto his medical tray with all the care and grace of a sedated bull. "I need to brush the dust off it first."

"Say, Doc... Why does my ribcage have wings?"

"Archimedes- NO!"

"Does that mean I can fly now?" Demo sounded hopeful.

"Hey, Doc!" Heavy called out to get his attention. Medic begrudgingly turned to face him after waving Archimedes off and out of Demo's thoracic cavity.

"Vat is it?" Finally came Medic's impatient reply.

Heavy simply shoved the deflated balloonicorn into Medic's bloodied arms. "Pyro say you know what to do with this."

"Don't touch that yet!" Medic hissed as Demo tried to reach out for his own liver. Couldn't leave that man alone for a second, could he? It was too hard to share a conversation like this. "Demo, you will just have to wait a little bit longer. I need to fix this balloon first."

"I want ta goooo!" Demo wailed, trying to push his weight off the table to get onto his feet.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Beweg nicht! Do you want your organs to fall out again? Have you not learned your lesson?"

The Russian trudged on past the squabbling duo. Time was ticking and he couldn't afford to have the team fail just because Demo didn't know how to keep still in the midst of surgery. Hastily, he shoved the supply boxes on the shelves aside as he grabbed a good handful of first-aid tools and ammo. By this point, it had become so routine that he needn't even look to see what his hand was taking. If it felt cold, it was bullet. If it felt soft, it was bandage. Anything else was just a surprise bonus for the rest of his team-mates. And while he hadn't forgotten, he filled and corked a couple vials of vodka that could probably ignite the insides of a sensible drinker. Demo was the only other person Heavy knew that appreciated his family's home-brewed brand.

Balancing the two stacked trays on one of his arms, he made sure to ignore whatever Medic and Demo were engaging in on the way back out. Engi was already halfway done upgrading his sentry when Heavy re-made an appearance. Pyro instantly became alert.

"Howdy, partner!"

A shatter sounded off from behind him. Engi cocked his head curiously, "Everything alright in there?"

"Medic is putting liver back into Demo."

Heavy's attention was grabbed again when Pyro started bouncing on the spot in-front of him, looking as if he was expecting something more.

"Fella wants his balloon back." Engi translated once more.

"Oh... Heavy forget. Sorry." The Russian tried to peer back into the room, yelling for the Medic's attention.

When the German finally did come out, his glasses were askew and his hair looked frazzled. "Vat is it, Heavy? I do not have all day to be-" His scolding was interrupted as Heavy nudged him and motioned towards the waiting Pyro. Medic then proceeded to look a little overwhelmed and panicked.

"Oh, Pyro... Pardon me, I did not see you zhere." He re-adjusted his glasses and his demeanour changed, his stance carrying everything of a surgeon about to deliver some bad news to a soon-to-be grieving family. Engi's brows furrowed in anticipation.

"Your balloon has..." Medic paused hesitantly, his eyes trying to search Pyro for any signs of understanding, in the hopes that he wouldn't have to say it out loud.

"Oh no..." The Texan knew where this was going and quickly, reached out to plant a pre-emptive but supportive hand on Pyro's shoulder. Unfortunately for both Medic and Engi, Pyro seemed oblivious, not catching on. Heavy only started feeling concerned.

"Hudda?"

Medic lowered his head sadly. The next thing he did was present the deflated balloonicorn to Pyro, a gaping hole at its back.

"Zhere vas nothing I could do." Said the German regretfully. "I'm so sorry."

A thick silence fell among the men as they stood there, waiting for the grieving response they knew would come. They all started expecting the worst when Pyro failed to even give any form of a reaction.

"You okay, Pyro?" Engi gave a friendly shake.

Finally, Pyro delicately took the remains of his inflated companion from Medic's arms. He glanced up again at Medic, as if hoping to be told this was all just a bad dream. Medic painfully and slowly shook his head again, not quite daring to meet Pyro's imploring gaze.

Engi opened his mouth to say something, but thought against it when he saw Pyro's shoulders sag in defeat. When Pyro turned his heel to the others to leave, all of them felt too awkward and at loss of what to do to stop him, or at least try to follow him.

"Is just balloon, right?" Heavy finally plucked up the courage to slice through the silence when Pyro was out of ear-shot, trying to shrug the situation off. This promptly earned him a glare from Medic and a disapproving shake of the head from Engi.

"Perhaps to you. But zhat balloon is like his family-pet."

"Y'all think he's gonna be alright for battle?"

"Ach, I hope so."

Before any of them could make further comments on this predicament, the tumbling of objects and boxes quickly drew all their attention to what was behind them.

"I tried to stich m'self back up." Said a visibly drained Demo. "Now... I'm no doctor but is my kidney meant to be at the front?"

Medic groaned. "I told you not to move..."