Team Fortress: Soaked Through

Chapter One: No One Home

"Doktor?"

"Ja, Heavy? Vhat is it?"

"Did something happen? In the fight?"

Medic lifted his head to face Heavy, which had been engrossed in an unfortunate specimen. His face looked unnatural somehow. He looked as dead as the subject on his slab.

"We von, didn't ve? Isn't zhat vhat matters?"

"Da...we did. But you don't seem happy about it."

"Very perceptive, Heavy."

"Ludwig."

Medic stood, his hands face-down on the table.

"Don't call me zhat. Somevun could be listening."

"I think you're the only one who needs to listen. In one ear and out the other, Doktor."

"Alright, dummkopf. I'm all ears."

Heavy sighed. "You weren't happy about last fight either. Or the one before. You are usually schastlivyy after a fight. But you've had a..."

Heavy put a hand on his head, trying to remember the phrase Scout taught him.

"Lightning over your hair."

"I believe," Medic said, sneering, "you mean I've had a storm cloud over my head. And zhat is preposterous. I am as vell as I'll ever be."

"Then maybe you need a doktor, Doktor."

"I am not sick."

Heavy sat down in one of Medic's chairs, wincing at the loud creak it made as he made himself comfortable. Medic scowled and went back to his surgery. There was an awkward silence.

"After you wash all the blood off, you want to play checkers?"

An angry slam of a surgical knife echoed off the high walls of the laboratory.

"No, Heavy! Do I not have zhe privilege of having some peace for a night? Dummkopf..."

Heavy shrugged his shoulders and got up from the chair.

"Don't worry, Doktor. You know where the checkers are. And you know where I am. If you want to play, I'll get us some drinks, da?"

Medic didn't answer. He kept tearing away at flesh, robotically stitching organs back together. His flair was completely gone. Heavy closed the laboratory door behind him, using all of his willpower not to tear it off its hinges. Scout was waiting outside, peeling an orange.

"Well?" he said, popping a piece of the fruit into his mouth.

"He doesn't look good. He isn't Medic, Scout. He's just there with his hands, but everything else is gone."

Scout waved his hand. "He's a few bullets short of a forty-four if you ask me. Medic's probably just in one of his moods."

"He called me dummkopf."

"Heavy, I don't know if you've noticed, but he kinda calls everyone that. Like, we even have a point system. Not to brag, but I hold the record out of all of us."

"Like he meant it, Scout. Doktor looked like he wanted to suck my soul out of my body."

"Didja touch his stuff?"

"No."

"Say no to being a test subject?"

"Nyet."

"Used him a lot when we fought?"

"Only twice. And it was really bad."

"Don't know what to tell ya. Maybe one of the other guys got on his bad side. Him and Spy might have some beef or something."