Chapter 14: Clones And Retrogressing Situations
Notes: Criticism is allowed!
Scout stumbled into his office after having blown off a couple of his fingers, grinning and looking behind himself proudly at Demoman. He was laughing to himself while Medic stared at him, exacerbated.
The young man's clothing was tattered, stained with grey and soot, and he was missing a shoe and a sock. His face was covered in dust and blood, but he ultimately had a youthful look to him that never vanished despite looking as if he went through the trenches.
"What did you do?" Medic inquired, exasperated.
He wasn't close to the young man. He would barely even call them coworkers with how often Scout liked to annoy him in and out of battle. He was always injured in some way, stumbling into his office on a weekly basis more often than not. Thankfully, Spy kept him under control, though that didn't lessen the visits.
Scout turned to him, still grinning from ear to ear as he proudly showcased a simple bottle of water. "Yo, check it, doc."
Medic's eyes went to the bottle, then back to Scout. He looked up at the ceiling as if god would save him from this nonsense, but the younger man continued to ramble without caring about whether he wanted to listen to him or not.
"I know, cool, right?"
"Scout, I don't know what I'm looking at right now."
"Me and Demo were just hanging, right? And we decided to use his science classes to pass the time 'cause we were bored, and he whips out bleach and rubbing alcohol and mixes them together! So now we got some chloroform."
Scout demonstrates by shaking the bottle, his grin wide and playful.
Medic sighed and closed his eyes briefly, before his gaze went to the missing fingers.
"Scout, that doesn't explain why you're missing your fingers and covered in soot and blood."
"Nah, that happened like hours ago."
The doctor wanted to groan and tell him to get out of his office, instead he wryly massaged the bridge of his nose. There was a good reason he stayed away from the boy, and this was the reason.
"Why didn't you come by then?" Asked Medic.
"'Cause I was stuck in Pyro's vents."
"Why were you-" he suddenly felt exhausted from this conversation. "I don't need to know why you were in Pyro's vents. I just want to know why you're missing your fingers."
"Well, before that, I was messing with Spy's knife and pricked myself, but Soldier thought I'd get that metal poisoning or whatever and he cut my fingers off."
Medic stared at him incredulously.
"Yeah, I know, freakin' stupid amiright?"
He lacked any answer and went to grab his Medi-gun, exasperated and exhausted from the sudden conversation. He wasn't sure how Scout found himself in these scenarios, honestly; it was a miracle the boy hadn't somehow gotten himself killed from wandering too far from the respawn machine.
He flicked the lever of his Medi-gun; the humming filling the room while a blue beam shot from out of the barrel. He then turned it towards Scout and watched as his fingers regenerated, his skin colour coming back to life.
Scout flexed his fingers and smirked. "Thanks, doc. 'Preciate ya!"
"Get out."
"I'll see you later!" Scout ran out of the room and yelled something to Demo, though Medic didn't care, only relieved he had left.
Silence descended in the room, and he walked to the table that he brought in, the surface piled with files and papers. There were schematics of his projects, some of which he'd been working on a little after he was "cloned."
Everyone can say that he came in second to Humboldt because he didn't seem to have the talent to prove he was more skilled, but that didn't mean he wasn't intelligent in his own right.
He needed to get this project right. For himself. He needed to prove everyone wrong, and he needed to prove to his boss that he wasn't connected to Humboldt, that he wasn't a clone. If he's able to complete this project, he can be free from all of this and hide away somewhere secluded where he won't be found. His team can go fuck themselves for all he cared. Everyone can go fuck themselves.
Once the project was done, he'd leave the first chance he got. Though he still needed to find a proper place to hide from everything once he escaped. Miss Pauling was a tricky woman, and there was no doubt she'd track him down if he even left a whisper of a trace of himself.
His fingers traced the open binder, and his eyes widened in shock. Everything was disorganised. Someone looked through his papers. Someone saw his project.
He speedily piled the papers, files, and schematics neatly into a binder, hiding away his projects, and orderly tucking them together to prevent anyone else from seeing them. Wryly, he sarcastically thought to himself that it was pointless hiding something that was already seen, seeing as it wouldn't erase the damage done.
There was a swoosh of air behind him, and Medic gritted his teeth.
He heard light footsteps tap against the tiled floor that methodically approached his side. The doctor placed his binder down and turned towards the Frenchman who had a complicated expression.
He saw.
"What is it, Spy?" He questioned.
"For a lack of better words, you've been frazzled as of late. I merely came to visit to see how you were doing." Spy said, pulling out a cigarette and holding it out to Medic, to which the doctor only stared at him. The Spy pulled his hand back and placed the smoke in his mouth.
"I'm fine."
"That I see, I was also wondering how that project of yours was going, seeing as you've been working on it for some time." He said, flicking the lighter and turning the flame to the end of his cigarette.
"How long have you known I was working on it?" Medic inquired.
"For a while. I believe it's been a half a year since you've started working on it, no? Why don't you put it down and get some fresh air?"
Medic frowned, and he continued putting them away, his back turned to Spy while still slanted in a way that he couldn't back stab him. "There isn't a need for mincing our words."
"No, our doctor is far too smart for that." There was a sarcastic lilt in his tone.
"What do you think of it?" He asked instead, quiet. Clarifying when Spy tilted his head slightly. "My project."
"Truthfully?" He espied Spy quirking his brow in disbelief, before he slunk to the other side of the table and leaned on it as he huffed smoke from his nostrils. "It's… hard to believe."
"Is it?" Medic queried, having finished packing the last of the papers.
"No, now that I think about it. Was it for yourself or for us as well? Or maybe both of us? Beneficial for one side and damnable for the other."
Medic stayed silent, knowing that was enough of an answer for Spy. The German didn't care about his team; he didn't care about this company. He didn't want to care about it. There was nothing here for him, and seeing as he wasn't as "skilled" as Humboldt, he might as well take his leave before he got in too deep.
"Well, where were you going to hide once you've figured it out? Or were you going to cause chaos and then disappear?"
"Have you not done that before?" Medic shot back, his stress lines prominent.
Spy looked away from him and the doctor saw his chest lift before lowering, smoke billowing from his mouth as he exhaled.
The doctor sighed at the silence and turned away from him. "What else do you need from me? I healed Scout as I always do, and I would rather get back to working on this project. You knowing doesn't change a thing."
"He isn't just Scout," Spy abruptly defended, and he cleared his throat at the tone he'd taken. Medic's brows raised in surprise, though he didn't comment. "He's my… son. He… wasn't at all what I imagined he'd be like. He isn't like how his mother described him. It's humiliating to say I care for someone, spies don't care, but I care deeply for him."
Medic pinched his brows and finally looked at Spy since he first entered the room. He could see the exhaustion in his pale blue eyes, a darker shade of blue compared to Medic's, and not as haunting as his. There was a weary look in them, wizen but calculating. He hated Spy for that reason, too smart for him and everyone else's good. He can't keep his nose out of other people's business, either.
"Don't be ridiculous, he isn't your son," Medic said, tilting his head away. "We are not the RED team. He can't be related to you."
"I wouldn't know how this whole cloning thing works, I never asked." Spy's sounded disappointed, humming afterwards. "Perhaps by blood we aren't related. But I chose this for my sanity."
"It's going to kill you."
"No, it has and will save me. You'll understand what I mean when you finally come out of this room."
The Spy stared wearily at him as he moved his cigarette away from his mouth, folding his arms and waiting for him to say something. Though the doctor stayed silent.
Medic never had a chance to get close with the team, not for the first year since they were cloned, and definitely not since Medic first began his project. All the BLU team were coworkers at best, strangers at worst. If he got this project done, he'd be free to leave and get his own life back.
When the Medic didn't say anything, Spy looked away from him, speaking softly. "It's been a year since we were cloned. A year and a half, if I'm being specific."
Medic's finger twitched at that, and he could see Spy's eyes on them in an instant. The German moved his hands away from his sight, folding them together.
"We aren't clones."
Spy lifted his brow but didn't comment. "You need to accept that we are likely trapped here forever."
"I'm not trapped."
"Then why haven't you left yet?" Spy queried.
Medic didn't have an answer for him.
"You can't, and it's because you refuse to want anything to do with us. Now I know why, but the others don't. All they see is a miserable old man tucked away in his room slowly losing his mind. Even if you aren't our friend anymore, barely even a coworker, you were once."
"I'm not humboldt-"
"You were once."
His brows knitted together, and he averted his gaze from Spy.
"You run from the truth more than me and Scout do, and that's an achievement." Spy then tapped the binder that was full of his projects. "But this won't help you; we will."
He didn't have an answer for him. He couldn't trust them, shouldn't. There were too many variables, too much going on in his head, and trusting them with his livelihood would most definitely kill him. Spys weren't trustworthy in general, but the Spy standing in front of him would betray him in more ways than one.
Then again, what more did Medic have to live for? At this point, he's trying to escape for the sake of escaping rather than some sort of cathartic revenge. If he ever escaped, he'd likely kill himself in the middle of the woods.
"What do you want from this?" Medic questioned, voice throaty.
Spy inhaled, then methodically exhaled, smoke billowing from his mouth. He then quietly admits. "For you to give us a chance. Not that silly team still in your head."
"They aren't…" Medic trailed off, no longer trying to defend his point. Dealing with Scout and Spy on the same day exhausted him.
Without answering that remark, Spy snubbed the cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "Consider what I'm asking of you in the meantime."
Medic pinched his lips, tucking the binder in his armpit, as Spy observed his movements.
When the doctor didn't answer him, there was a click before smoke then blanketed the French man, vanishing from sight entirely as the scent of tobacco lingered.
He stared at the open door for a moment longer and wondered if he had left, before he sniffed and wiped his nose, trying to erase the smell of Spys expensive smokes. The quiet was stationary in the office, and he closed his eyes.
He shouldn't work with them.
Yes, he did work with them during that first year they were "cloned," but he distanced himself during the second year for a good reason. He can't trust them. They shouldn't trust him.
Yet they always wanted to hold hands with him and talk random nonsense around a campfire. He knew why they were so desperate to form a connection with him, and it was pitiful. None of them had anyone else besides themselves, and they found it stupid to push away the few people who were stuck in the same situation as them.
But he couldn't trust them.
They've proven to him time and time again he shouldn't trust them.
And yet he was still here.
There was the soft squeak of the door's hinges, when almost reluctantly, Scout stepped back into the room, looking apologetic. Medic's frown became a scowl when the younger man hesitantly stepped further into the room.
The two were quiet as they stared at each other.
"What?" Medic snapped after a minute.
Scout jumped, and he stared uneasily into his face, eyes darting everywhere besides his expression. "I, uh, just wanted to apologise."
Medic gave him a strange look. Apologise?
"Look, I know I'm annoying. It's in my blood to be annoying as all hell. 'S why I was hired. But everyone's been forcin' me to apologise to you 'cause I've been more annoying than usual. Ain't my fault though, I was just worried 'bout—nothin'. Completely nothin'. 'Cause I don't worry. I was just… whatever, I just wanted to apologise."
Medic's strange gaze hadn't disappeared, though he set the binder back on the table, speaking as he did so. "What did you do this time?"
"What? No, I didn't do anythin'; I just wanted to apologise."
"Then why are you worried?"
"I'm not worried!"
Medic quirked his brow, and Scout chewed his lower lip. He folded his arms and held them close to his chest, tensing. He then released a hefty breath and scrunched his nose.
"Look, don't go tellin' anyone, but I'm worried 'bout ya, doc." He admitted, gaze averted and flushing in embarrassment.
Medic blinked in surprise, but let the younger man continue.
"Yeah, I know we're supposed to hate each other and stuff. I annoy you and you don't heal me. That's how things go with medics and scouts. But we ain't- we were coworkers and I trust you with my life. That's how things go. When I'm close to dying, ya heal me. When you're in trouble, I save you. But I dunno if somethin' happened to you or what, but you've been different for… a while now. I… I'm worried."
"Everything is fine."
"Yeah, but that's what most women say when it's their time of the month, but really they're talking in that really tense tone and slamming shit around all pissy like."
If it were somehow possible, Medic's frown deepened. "I don't think you're allowed to say that."
"There's no woman around that I like for me to be respectful."
At this, Medic unwittingly huffed in amusement. Though Scout hadn't noticed.
"Anyway, I just wanted to apologise for being annoying. Yeah, I know, whoopty doo, the Scout's actually apologising for something. I don't mean to come to your office a lot, but ya know how we all are. Put a buncha men with a buncha guns together in the middle of nowhere with a lotta time to kill, and you get us. It don't help with the bastard RED team over there. 'Least that's what Engineer says."
"He's right." Medic muttered.
"Yeah, lotsa you guys are always right 'bout somethin'."
The German let himself fall silent.
"Anyway, I was gonna hit up that nearby fast-food joint in town." Scout said, tone then abruptly low and nervous. "Ya can join me if ya want."
Medic slowly blinked. "Eat… out?"
"Jeez, ya look like you've never eaten out before." When the Medic was quiet in surprise, Scout looked sympathetic. "Aw, jeez, don't tell me you've never eaten out before."
"No, I've eaten out before, I'm just…" surprised, though he didn't finish his sentence.
He looked off to the side with a contemplative face. There were a few seconds that passed as he pondered if he should accept.
What good would come to befriending them again? That blew up in his face the first time he tried, and if he couldn't finish this project, then he would be stuck fighting this useless war.
'But this won't help you; we will.'
"'Kay, look, I know it's probably weird to come hang with me, 'cause, y'know, ya hate me and all." Scout's bravado cracked, showing slivers of disappointment and concern. "Thought I'd ask 'cause Heavy's worried and kept talking about trying to get you out of this room. Ya know how he is."
"Heavy?" He asked incredulously, quirking a brow.
"Ya know how he is." Scout echoed, blushing furiously, although the German was confused by his sudden embarrassment.
Medic looked back at the binder, thumb circling the smooth texture anxiously. Scout was a reckless man who spouted nonsense after nonsense. He couldn't keep a secret. He got attached too easily, and he was easy to anger. There wasn't anything he could trust him with.
He tapped the binder's plastic, and he looked back at the Scout, who was bouncing on the spot like a child waiting for a compliment.
This is dangerous, Medic's thoughts whispered to him. Careful how you tread.
"I'll go with you." He spoke carefully, pausing between each word.
Scout's eyes snapped back to his, widening in shock. His movement was animated as he spoke. "Wait, seriously? Ya ain't kiddin'?"
"Can we make this quick?"
"Yeah," Scout bobbed his head and his lips split into a wide, ecstatic grin. "Yeah, 'course, doc! I'll treat ya to the best burgers in town!"
The Medic slid the binder under several books he had out. He then trailed behind the younger man as he bounded out of the room, shutting the door behind himself.
After that encounter, he would occasionally lie in bed and question whether it had been wise to befriend the team again.
He hadn't meant to get as close to them, and some days he curled in himself as his mind filled with static, voices of past people yelling at him that he made a mistake.
With almost everything, Medic never had the best of luck; either something went horribly wrong, and he had to take responsibility for it, or there was always something about him that people found problematic.
He was always ranked second only to Humboldt, the backup plan in case of an emergency, and the second choice for anything pertaining to medicine. He was never comparable to Humboldt, even in his physicality, skill set, and personality. According to others, he couldn't even come close to what Humboldt could accomplish.
He tried desperately to be his own individual, but he still couldn't help but think that they weren't wrong. He was and always would be in Humboldt's shadow. Time and time again, in the back of his mind, Humboldt's memories prickled him, whispering to him that he wasn't who he thought he was.
His own team thought that as well. He knew they did, even if they said it much more kindly.
Their words were still the same as the RED team, no matter how they tried to frame it. He was a clone to everyone, a second place award, a second opinion.
And yet he clung to his team like he was in some one-sided abusive relationship.
God, he always felt pathetic when he was with them. He showed too much vulnerability with them, and no matter how hard he tries to deny it, he knows they care for him like he does for them. Like a true Medic would.
'You're our friend,' they'd say.
Those words stung in more ways than one.
Ultimately, Spy was right. He always was. Scout saved him.
Medic wanted to pay him back for that, nothing like a simple dinner or even money, but something that he could do for him that friendship or brother-hood couldn't provide. The younger man saved him from slowly losing his mind, he practically saved his life, and there was nothing physical in this world that he could give to him out of gratitude.
He was and would never be able to fulfil that debt, because Medic failed again.
He couldn't save him.
His one job.
That was his one job.
His job was his everything, and he couldn't save him.
Medic would've been content with turning into a monster in Scout's stead. He didn't have much to live for; he didn't even want to live.
Morbidly, he always wondered if the respawn machine would malfunction and properly kill him. However, it never did, and now he found himself standing in front of Scout, who had more to live for than he did.
"I think I'm gonna die… if you don't help me…"
Scout staggered towards them, and Demo and Jeremy took an instinctive step back. Medic stayed stationary, though, his muscles stiff.
Blood rushed to Medic's ears, horror mixed with terror swarming his mind. Horrified by the familiar voice, and terror that what he was seeing was wrong.
His eyes were deceiving him.
The right side of his body was half-way melting, his leg and arm nothing but a wet pile of skin, muscle, and bone. He leaned against the wall, drool dribbling from his mouth, and his eyes bloodshot with tears. His face was covered in blood; clothing torn and unkempt. His eye was sulking from out of wherever his socket was.
Whoever was standing in front of him, it wasn't Scout.
But it was.
Medic couldn't form any words, and he felt a rough tug on his forearm, grunting before turning to look at Demo who was fruitlessly trying to pull him away.
"Medic, doc, we need to go."
"Der Junge-"
"It ain't worth it."
"Doc, doc, please… please, doc. Don't go, please. I don't want to be alone. Please, doc." Scout held his arms out to him as he spoke desperately. "Doc, don't go! I don't want to be alone. Please, doc. Doc. I can't—I don't want to be alone!"
Medic focused his gaze on Scout's non-melted side. "He isn't a monster."
Another hand, considerably smaller than Demo's, but with a stronger grip, tugged at his arm.
"I think he is, man. We need to go!" Jeremy shouted.
"He isn't a monster." He became more breathless as he spoke.
"Fuck it! Demo, let's go!" Medic heard him yell to the Scot.
Demo responded with a quick refusal. "We can't leave him. He's our only doctor."
"Does that matter now?!"
"Yer arm, ya bleeding idiot!"
"At least I won't be a monster!"
"What if he can fix this shit?"
"Him?!"
Their voices muffled, and Medic pulled away from them, staggering towards Scout. His mind buzzed with white noise and ringing, static filling his ears and vision. It was Scout; it was still Scout, even if half of his side was gone. It was still Scout.
"Scout." Medic charily called to him. "Scout, are you okay…?"
Scout staggered towards him, holding his arms out to the Medic while sobbing. The doctor stood still, his head spinning and his gaze fixated on only Scout.
"Doc, doc, it hurts. Medic, please… please, it hurts."
There was a moment in Medic's mind as Scout leaned towards him, traitorously whispering that Medic had made a mistake approaching Scout.
Instead, Scout collapsed into his arms, and the boy was too warm. He was too warm to be dead, and Medic felt him rest his head into the crevice of his neck. He wasn't dead. Do they not die when they become monsters?
"Kill me. Kill me. Doc. Please. I don't want to hurt you. Doc. Please." Scout muttered into his arms, viciously trembling that it was visible.
"Junge-"
"Doc, I don't wanna hurt you. Please. Please kill me. I can… I don't know if I can get better. It hurts. Please kill me. Please."
Medic thickly swallowed. "You aren't going to die."
"Please, please, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts." He muttered those last sentences, drooping and leaning heavily into his arms. The melting parts of his body wounded around Medic, though not enough that he felt a constricting pain like the others had explained. "Doc, I don't want to hurt you. I don't wanna hurt my pa or- or anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you."
"You aren't, Junge. I'll help you. I'll fix you."
"I'm scared, doc, I'm scared," he admitted, whispering, like he was a child telling a secret. He hiccuped and dug his into his neck. "I don't wanna become a monster. I don't wanna hurt you."
"I know, junge. I know." He whispered to him, trying for a comforting tone and knowing he was failing at even that.
"You're terrible at comforting others."
"I'll fix you." Medic said instead, quietly adding. "I'll fix you."
Scout sobbed, and he felt him press further into his chest. He could feel his innards warping around inside his body, parts of what Medic thought were his ribs sticking into his gut only to be pushed back into him like it was wax.
"It hurts. It hurts, doc. Kill me."
"You'll be fine."
Scout cried in anguish and his knees buckled beneath him, the Medic having been pulled down with him. He heaved him to stand upright, the two men still hugging each other. The doctor could feel the wetness winding around himself, only getting tighter as the boy sunk into Medic's own skin.
"You're fine, junge. You'll be fine. I'll fix you." Medic murmured, eyes wide and pressing Scout further into the hug. "When you're fixed, we'll all go have drinks with the team. Celebrate another victory. I'll go with you to that disgusting food place."
"It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!" Scout howled into his arm, his voice having doubled from coming out of more holes than his mouth. There was a faint whistling while he spoke, his voice having turned into a wheeze.
Medic stopped talking, only hugging Scout until he fell silent as well with the occasional wheeze and hiccuped sobs. They didn't speak, only hugging each other until even that became difficult. He wasn't sure if Jeremy or Demo were still behind him, and he didn't care.
He pinched his lips and continued staring at Scout. He wanted to keep hugging Scout until he turned into a monster, so that Medic would turn into one too and be absorbed by him. He knew that if he did that, they'd be stuck for what could be eternity with each other. But it wouldn't be so bad to be stuck with him, right?
He annoyed him. He was the kind of man he didn't want to be friends with, and he never expected to have formed such a friendship with him that he saw him as family. There were a lot of regrets Medic had, one of them being that he didn't befriend the boy sooner, and the second that he could never repay his debt.
That didn't matter, now.
Once Scout becomes a monster, they'll be stuck with each other in the future come. He could live with that.
"Doc, kill me…"
But Scout didn't want that.
He was in too much pain, and the kid didn't want to hurt him.
Scout sobbed. "Was I a good friend?"
"You're the worst person I've ever met," Medic said, as he felt Scout's waxy texture wound tightly around himself. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry… too…"
He straddled Scout, and slowly, he inched away from him. Medic felt empty without him in his arms. He felt too empty, like all of his emotion had been drained out of him.
Everything around him was too grey.
"Demo," he called to the Scot behind him. Medic didn't bother turning around to look at him, though he knew the man was still behind him when he heard his foot shuffle, voice croaking as he spoke. "Can you blow him up?"
"…Aye."
Heavy footsteps came from behind him, then he saw the man standing beside him. His eyes never left Scout's fragile frame, and while he wasn't sure what sort of expression he was wearing, he espied Demo's eyes widening at both the sight of Scout and Medic's expression.
"We need to move further back." He said, instead of commenting on their expression.
With his feet too heavy, like he was pulling them through mud, Medic reluctantly trudged back. He was regretting keeping a close eye on Scout as he moved away. He wanted to see Scout as Scout. But he couldn't, because Scout wasn't Scout anymore.
The kid was only left with half of his face and his arm, though he could see the anguish in his eyes and the tears that trickled down the rest of his face.
He would've run towards Scout had it not been for Demo's hand holding him in place.
The Scot then aimed his grenade launcher. There was a second that went by, before there was the familiar pop of the grenades.
A sticky bomb landed on Scout's chest.
The boy looked at him, relieved. Then Scout softly chuckled. So soft it was as if someone had told him some good news. He looked on in relief and comfort.
The boy—God, he was just a boy—stared at Medic, dragging himself towards them.
"Oh, that makes sense… Can you say thank you? Thank you, doc."
An explosion erupted in the hall, and Medic couldn't even bother covering his face.
A vibrant colour of red mixed with grey and orange painted the room, the blast bright, though not bright enough that it covered Medic's vision. Dust was kicked up, the surroundings walls splintered, and there was a ringing that accompanied the after-blast.
As he watched Scout's body burst, he remained utterly detached. He couldn't feel a thing, no matter what thoughts flicked through his mind.
Silence reigned over the two men as they waited for the dust to settle.
Then they saw Scout. Dead.
"He's actually dead…" Demo muttered, his jaw dropped ajar.
Though as Medic gazed at Scout's mangled body, everything seemed to stop, and his heart pounded in his chest.
His brain matter was all over the floor, and his head was sunk in. The walls were covered in skin, and each wall around it had tissue, muscle, and blood strewn on it.
It was too morbid of a display for his death. He should've been buried in a casket, surrounded by his loved ones, yet he was drawn on the walls and grounds of this base, permanently, forever, a monster.
The other half of his body that was melted continuously climbed over his body, the Medic dazedly staring at the melted mess trying to take over his body. Even when the poor boy was dead, it was still trying to take over his body.
Somehow, in his rapidly blanking mind, Medic wondered if death was how people became monsters, and it invaded their minds like parasites that reanimated them back to life.
Scout's body disappeared moments later.
His blood still remained, though.
Medic's mouth was swamped with the taste of metal, and he reached up to his face, feeling chunks of meat on his cheek and bottom lip. He pulled his hand away and saw clumps of red speckled on his fingertips.
He wasn't sure if it was his own blood from having bit his tongue too hard, or Scout's.
He dropped his hand to his side like a weighted bar and looked down at the bloodstained ground, Scout's blood trail in the corner of his eyes.
"Can we go find him and cut off his limb?" Medic asked numbly, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.
"That ain't how it works, Doc," Demo answered, and Medic felt his heart plummet, drowning in hopelessness. He wanted to tell the Scot to shut up, wanted to say something, but he couldn't muster any words, and listened to the man as he spoke. "Heavy was fully engulfed, and he respawned back in with the parts that were taken over. It's a bloody miracle that Scout could even be killed at all. Must've left his brain for last just to torture the poor-"
Medic looked over at him, and Demo averted his gaze when he saw his expression.
"It slipped out."
Medic closed his eyes and sighed through his nose, but the memory didn't fade. Scout didn't fade. He reopened his eyes and gazed vacantly at the spot where Scout's body was.
His vision blackened near the edges, only hearing ringing and his heavy breathing. His heart thumped in his ears while his senses numbed.
Scout was gone.
He couldn't focus on anything.
He didn't know what his rights and lefts were, and his face flushed with a bitter coldness.
Scout looked relieved when he was killed.
Spy's revolver dropped on Scout's pool of blood, cracked and dented in some parts of the handle and barrel, and the women burned onto the side of the gun had Scout's blood seeping into the white lines.
His ears were swarming with too much white noise and ringing, that he almost missed the respawn room's shutter banging continuously with thunderous slamming. Laughter emitted from the room, and a pair of hands slapped around Medic's ears, muting every other sound.
Medic didn't care, he didn't want to discern who that laughter belonged to.
His thoughts that were swirling together clashed together, and abruptly, there was only that ringing in his ears. The ringing buzzed in his ears, waiting for him to crack, to increase in pressure. But it never did, ceaselessly ringing and worming its way into his brain, drilling his head with fear, anxiety, and anguish.
Medic was half-aware of his heavy breathing and the blood that was splattered across his face.
Scout's gaze was burned into his mind.
His gaze when he first saw him.
And his eyes when he was killed.
"Doc," a firm hand shook his shoulder, and his vision was delayed as he turned to look at Demo, who stared at him with pinched brows. "Let's go."
Medic lacked a response.
He let Demo help him walk, and he would've been shocked at Demo being empathetic towards him. But he couldn't bring himself to think about it. There wasn't anything he could think about, mind buzzing.
"Ye hadn't left?" Demo asked suddenly, surprised.
Medic looked up and saw Jeremy watching everything from a distance, expression unreadable.
Jeremy's eyes went to Medic before they went back to Demo, opening his mouth to answer when he closed his mouth. He turned around with little of an answer, and Demo helped Medic walk, the three descending the hallway.
He followed them numbly.
Every noise was muted around him, no sounds reaching his ears. There was only that endless ringing, and his own breathing. His head was thronged with white noise, his senses numb, while his vision was spotted with darkness.
Scout's eyes were burned into the back of Medic's mind.
He saw the fear in them, the pain and the agony as he was killed, and the familiarity when he first saw him. The relief.
Medic looked back down at the blood trail; Scout's blood trail. The same one they followed to find him.
It wasn't there anymore.
He felt Demo tug at his forearm, dragging him down the hallway with enough firmness that his arm didn't feel sore. He supposed it made sense for Demo to be strong in this type of situation, seeing as the man lost people close to him.
Medic had lost people before, too, but never like this.
His face was still stained with Scout's blood, the dust of the hallway being kicked up. This base would forever be Scout's tomb. He was stuck here.
"Hey, doc."
Medic and Demo noticeably tensed at hearing the too familiar voice. The two of them looked back at the massacre behind them, and when they didn't see anything, they looked towards Jeremy, who hadn't noticed their rigidity.
"I… I effed up, like, really badly. I didn't think this would happen, alright? I thought… I don't know what I thought. I thought this place was smaller. I didn't think it'd take this long to get around. So just… I'm sorry, okay? I'm an idiot, but don't tell anyone I said this, alright?"
It took Medic a great deal of effort to hear him. Even then, some of his words went through one ear and out the other, jumbled.
Scout's eyes were still there.
Demo let go of his arm, and Medic slightly stumbled, not realising how much Demo had been supporting him to stand straight. The Scot moved towards Jeremy and roughly patted his back. He then leaned towards his ear, whispering something that Medic couldn't bother discerning. A second later, Jeremy's gaze went back to Medic, and he frowned, brows knitted, before making an odd expression.
"Uh, yeah, I got it." He muttered.
Demo briefly nodded before moving back to Medic's side. He pushed the Germans arm around his shoulder, and Medic unwittingly leaned on his shoulder. They went down the hallway again, Jeremy's stare staying on the Medic for a second longer just as he walked ahead.
The walls began closing on Medic while he trudged down the corridor.
Everything was suffocating.
The too grey walls.
The brightly blue neon coloured stripes and signs.
The cold air that blew across Medic's neck.
And Scout's eyes.
Everything was too much. It was all too much.
The buzzing ringing increased in volume, and the white noise muddled his brain.
He couldn't think. He couldn't speak. There was only Scout's face in his vision.
He wasn't sure how he was moving, how he could even walk. Humboldt laughed at him, mocking him and taunting him that Medic was no longer who he thought he was.
Scout's still there in his mind.
He wasn't sure who was speaking out of his mouth, who was taking control of his brain and making the decisions, and what he was.
Could he even be considered human anymore?
Or was he a monster, too?
He should've been a monster, too. He already was. He should've let Scout make him into a monster. Only a monster would let their friend die. Only a monster would fail.
He should've let Scout turn him into a monster. He shouldn't have listened. He should've stayed to turn into a monster with him; he should've become a monster.
And yet the ringing buzzed in his ears.
He staggered and there was another gust of air.
This time accompanied by that familiar…
Swoosh.
Medic slammed against the wall, and he gasped in shock, collapsing to the floor and sprawling across the cement in pain. He rolled on his back and held his hip, gritting his teeth.
He could hear shoes squeaking along with yells too muffled in his ears to discern who they belonged to, voices bouncing off the walls.
He took a moment to crack his eyes open, not having realised they were closed. His vision was blurry, though he immediately twisted onto his stomach, feeling ill, when he saw four pairs of melted legs in front of himself. Despair overwhelmed him, and he bit his lip into a straight line, eyes wide in both fear and anguish.
Pyro and Sniper loomed over him, the two conjoined at their hips.
Though all Medic saw was Scout's face replacing theirs.
He stared at them.
And Scout stared back at him.
Notes:
I hope this chapter wasn't overly dramatic since we're at the point where everything I've been building up to is going to fall into place now. I'm really, REALLY, excited, I've been building some stuff up for months now.
I always planned for someone to become a monster, but Scout becoming a monster was unfortunately how things turned out. But this makes things easier for me from a writing perspective because with Scout gone, I can focus on Medic and Spy's characters. I'm super hyped to finally introduce Spy. Also, just an fyi, but Scout's character isn't done yet :]
ONTO THE FANART NOW:
One was made by cosmic-meteorites on Tumblr! I LOVE IT! I was just giggling while looking through the art and I adore it so much. Especially the mini comic and doodles of Medic, Scout, and Demo.
The other was made by gravitytrips on Tumblr! As an Undertale kid, I've always loved au crossovers, so my Medic meeting It Came With The Rain Sniper would've had little me ecstatic.
Tumblr: https/blog/boredgrace23-gracepotts