Scout groaned.
"Freaking hell." He muttered, looking around the base.
It had been about an hour since Medic had stormed out of the base and neither the storm outside or the storm inside showed any signs of clearing up any time soon. Medic had yet to return from the outside, but Heavy had some time ago, apparently having failed in his mission. Spy and Sniper were still talking about whatever they were talking about in low voices, and any attempts by Scout to eavesdrop were quickly dropped when Sniper threatened to douse the runner in piss. Engie had pulled out a half built dispenser and was working on it, ignoring the rest of the team entirely. Pyro had disappeared off into the uncharted (and uncleaned) depths of the base for who knew what and Soldier was furiously cleaning his shotgun.
And of course, Demo was asleep.
Scout himself was bored out of his mind. He'd tried reading something, but his mind couldn't concentrate with the pain in his foot. None of the other classes had responded when he'd tried to start a conversation with them and he couldn't really get up and do anything else until Medic came back with his medigun.
He was no longer cold, just rather unconfutable in his wet clothes. Pyro had tried to start a proper fire earlier, but the entire team had quickly shut the fire-bug down on that particular idea very quickly.
Scout looked at the door, contemplating the idea of going out there and trying to talk to Medic himself. Sure it was a stupid idea – what could he do that Heavy couldn't? – but it was infinitely better than sitting here doing nothing.
Scout got up, carefully trying to avoid putting weight on the injured joint – it wasn't as bad as it had been when he'd stumbled into the base, but it was still painful.
He limped over to the door, no one else in the room taking any notice of him for some reason. Scout paused at the door to consider this oddity, shrugged and pushed open the wooden door.
He was instantly met with a wall of rain and wind as he stepped out, shutting the door behind him.
In front of him stood the tall, pale figure of Medic. He'd put his lab coat back on, but oddly, not his blue, rubber gloves, exposing a pair of thin hands with nails bitten down right to the cuticle. He'd taken off his glasses and was staring into the distance, his eyes unable to focus on anything definite.
And strangely, Archimedes, who was never far from it's master, was nowhere to be seen.
Scout walked up to Medic, who did not react at all to the american's presence.
"Hey doc," Scout called, finally attracting the doctor's attention. "You ok? Ya ain't exactly looking fresh there pal."
"Scout?" the german asked, turning his head and squinting at the newcomer. "Vhat are you doing here?" he hurriedly fished out his spectacles from his coat pocket and put them on. "And vhy are you not wearing a shirt?"
"'Cause it's wet." Scout shrugged. "An' anyways, who needs a shirt when ya got abs like these?"
"Scout, vhat are you talking about? You haff less muscles than me."
"Eh?" Scout looked at the Medic in confusion. "There is no freaking way that is true. No. Freaking. Way."
"Scout, vhat do you want?" Medic asked, changing the topic.
"Whoa, what makes ya think I want something?"
"Because you vould not talk to me otherwise. And you're limping."
"Yeesh, cynical much?"
"Do you even know what that vord means?"
"'Course I do!" Medic rolled his eyes at the Scout.
"So...uh...wanna go inside or something? It's kinda wet out here."
"And vhy should I?"
"'Cause it's freaking storming out here? An' everyone's worried about ya."
"Are they?" Medic raised an eyebrow. "Or are they vondering vhere their doctor is?"
"Uh...ain't that kinda the same thing?"
"Nein."
"But... you're the doctor."
"I am more than just the doctor. there is more to me than healing in the same way there is more to than running."
"I don't get it."
Medic let out an exasperated sigh.
"Vhat I am saying Scout is that you're wrong. Nobody cares about me. They only care about the person who heals them on the field."
"But that ain't the reason why you're out here."
"Vhat?"
"You ain't out here 'cause nobody likes ya. Ya out here 'cause of something else." Scout tilted his head at the German. "You're scared."
Medic tried to interrupt, but Scout was talking too fast for him to get a word in edgewise.
"You've been acting weird since Engie said the respawn's down doc, and then ya gave Sol that giant spiel of yours on dying an' shit. Ya scared of death, aren't ya?"
The doctor blinked in surprise at Scout's conclusion. Scout wasn't exactly know for acute observations.
"Heh...I ain't as dumb as ya think I am pal." He said, smirking at the nonplussed expression on the doctor's face.
Medic sighed and let his shoulders fall.
"Every man's afraid of something." He quoted.
"But...if you're scared of death, why are ya here? Shouldn't ya be in a hospital or something, saving lives instead of endin' them out here?"
"I haff my own reasons for not choosing a more...professional career. Personal reasons."
"Yeah, as if we all don't know what those personal reasons are ya kraut."
Medic suddenly froze, and then slowly, he drew himself straight to his full height, his ungloved hands forming tight fists.
"Vhat are you implying Scout?" He asked, his voice suddenly very quiet and restrained.
"Implying? I thought I was stating a fact. I mean, ya a freaking mad scientist who does weird shit to us without a second thought. It's kinda freaking obvious you're a n-"
"Don't," Medic interrupted, his voice suddenly taking on an ice cold tone that made the hairs on the back of Scout's neck rise. "Ever call me that you ignorant sveinhold."
"Er...doc? I think–"
"I was never on their side."
"Oohh…" Scout paused as he processed this new information. "Soo...you were on our side? Can'ya explain? I kinda missed history…"
"Scout," Medic let out a long sigh, his body relaxing again. "Just go."
"Why? It ain't like you got anyone else to talk to. An' anyways, no one else here will even try apparently."
"Because if you do not, you vill catch hypothermia."
"An' what about you? I ain't leaving you out here."
"I'll be fine."
"Willya really?"
"Just go Scout. Please."
Scout sighed and turned back to the building. His entire body had gone numb from the cold and he had trouble walking, but he somehow made it back into the relative comfort of the building.
Collapsing in front of the small glow of the lamp, his mind finally seemed to catch up with his body temperature as he was suddenly overtook with an acute cold that seemed to penetrate down into his bones.
Suddenly, from behind him, there was a muffled cry, quickly followed by the abrupt impact of something large and woollen into his bare back. It took scout several seconds of fighting against the thing before he realised that it was an old but warm blanket. Wrapping it around his freezing body, Scout turned around and gave a feeble grin to its source, who gave him a gloved thumbs up in reply.
He had managed to get himself warmed up to a certain degree before the door opened one final time and the white figure of Medic walked in, water dripping of his coat in rivets. A few heads went up at his arrival, but they soon went back to focus on whatever they had been doing before without a single word.
Taking the coat off with shivering limbs, he walked over and sat down next to Scout, only to find himself assaulted with another blanket from Pyro.
There was a long moment of silence as neither mercenary said anything. Now that all his anger was gone, Medic looked more scared and tired than anything else.
"So…." Scout looked expectantly at Medic. "If ya weren't on...their side, what the freaking hell does that mean? Were ya on our side? Were ya a spy?" Scout's eyes lit up at the idea.
"Nein. I vas on neither side. I vas a medic."
"Eh? I'm confused. Doncha have to be on a side to be in a war?"
"I did not fight for either side. I merely healed people."
"Ya didnt fight? But...how? I mean, ya didn't have your medigun-thingy back then, right?"
"Correct."
"Then how the freaking hell did you survive? Don't people shoot at ya all the freaking time?"
"Scout," he let out an irritated sigh. "In war, vi haff something called the Geneva convention."
"The what now?"
"Vi have rules. And one of those rules say that you can not shoot the medic."
"Did people seriously follow these...rules?"
Medic sighed, but this time it sounded more regretful.
"Unfortunately, not all the time. Some people forget, other did not see the cross I wore and others just did not care. Sometimes, your people were nearly as bad as mine in regards to following the rules of war. nearly."
There was a snort of disgust from behind them, causing both men to suddenly start in surprise. The blue suited form of Spy shimmered into exsistance behind the two, a cigerette poised between the fingers of his right hand.
"But zat iz not ze whole story, is it Josef?" Spy asked, sitting down between the two. "You were not exactly ze saint of healing and neutrality you paint yourself to be, hmm?"
"Spy, if you think that for even one moment–"
"I do not mean that my dear doctor. I merely meant that you should tell Scout here the whole story." Spy turned to Scout. "Perhaps you should ask herr medic here about what happened–"
"Don't." Medic growled, grabbing the Frenchman by the arm.
"Or what?" Spy grinned slyly. "Let me remind you that crossing me is a very idea Josef." he turned around to face Medic and leaned into the man. "I would be a shame if Heavy were to learn of your...past affiliations. I'm sure he is much less forgiving on those matters than Scout is."
Medic's face went several shades whiter, a feat that Scout didn't even know was possible. His mouth moved several times, but no sound came out.
"Hey, back off him ya french bastard." The runner interjected, trying to pull Spy off the other man. "An' leave our Medic alone."
"And why should I listen to you?"
"'Cause I know shit too."
"Really?" Spy snorted. "And what iz this information of yours and how did you acquire it?"
"Ain't sayin'. Just lemme tell ya the walls to both mine an' the other Scout's house were really thin."
"Scout, do you honestly think I would tell–"
"Oh, I've heard a lot more shit than just ya talks Spy. A lot more." Scout grinned.
There was a stunned silence for a moment as Spy went from an expression of smugness to one of extreme disgust and fury, only for him to quickly resume his usual face of calm collectiveness.
"Touché Scout, But I assure you, that will not work next time." and with that, Spy got up and walked away from the duo.
Scout breathed out a sigh of relief and turned back to Medic.
"Ya alright? Freaking Spy." Scout muttered.
Medic nodded and glanced back at Spy, who had gone over to Pyro and was now pestering the fire-starter.
"So...ya wanna tell me what he was talkin' about?"
The doctor paused and then shook his head.
"No."
"So...uh…" There was a short silence as Scout realised that their previous conversation was over. "hey! Where's Archie?"
"Archie?" Medic looked at Scout in confusion for a few moment, before his face suddenly lit in understanding. "Oh! I don't know…" He got up and looked around for his dove. "Archimedes?" He walked away from scout, calling after the bird.
Scout sighed and turned back to the lamp. Behind him, he could hear that Spy's pesterings had grown into a full on tantrum while Pyro remained silent.
"You can not remain silent for ever," Spy was ranting. "I will find out who you are you démon. And when zat happens, your silence will not save you! zere will be no fire and brimstone to help you! I will strip you of that suit and we zhall all zee the monster you are beneath!"
His curiosity piqued, Scout turned his head to once more face Spy. He had cornered the Pyro and was now violently poking the thing, demanding answers of some sort as and throwing insults he did so. Pyro however, just stood leaning against the corner it had been forced into, arms crossed as its glass eyes stared at the Spy.
Scout shrugged and watched the Frenchman become more and more agitated as he tried to get a response from the firebug, but to no avail. Eventually, he gave up and stormed off to sulk in the opposite corner next to the sleeping Demoman.
Scout turned back to the lamp, its flame dancing almost hypnotically behind the glass of its prison.
He didn't resist as the flickering flame slowly lulled him to sleep.
Changelog 11-6-16
+ added chapter
+ edited tags
/Just to clarify first, I understand the Geneva convention perfectly well. It's Medic here who refuses to accept the fact he ended up on the wrong side.
/This was by far one of the hardest chapter to write. I had to keep on redo-ing parts to make sure everything worked and even now, I'm a little worried that everything went a little too...fast.
/Much to the delight of me and you guys, the next few chapters shall consist mainly of scout doing scout things, pyro doing pyro things and spy being a dick. As interesting as medic's character is, he's also a bugger to write well due to his complexcity. While one could argue that spy is just as hard, he doesn't really have that big a role. yet.
/also, why doesnt have a 'action' genre?