Unmedical Recommendation

Chapter 1: Cuckoo

Chapter Text

"Mein kleiner Vogel."

"You will be an adult tomorrow—have you decided on what you wanted?"

"…"

"Of course, I will be there for your birthday—what a silly thing to ask. I was talking in sweets—are you fancying anything special?"

"…"

"Franzbrotchen? So be it... Adults can still enjoy sweets from time to time."

"..."

"...Where did you hear that?"

"..."

"Do not worry about silly wars—your father is done with wars. I am staying here, spending as much time as I can with you until you finish your schooling. You will be sent to the most lavish college for your license afterward. People expect much from you—you will take this seriously, ja?"

"..."

"You always take things seriously... Tomorrow, we will take it easy—it is your birthday after all. We both need our minds off what is happening with the world."

"..."

"...Do not worry about me. I am a Doctor! And soon, you will be as well. If men need healing, I will heal them—I do not judge neither background nor morals."

"…"

"...If it comes to that, I may have to go do my job. Not for some... leader, but for the men. They require my help... You best do the same and be a good Doctor—a better Doctor than I."

"..."

"Oho... Of course, I love you. I will always love you no matter what."

"Mein klein̴͚̅e̸͙̎r̶̭͑ ̶̢͝V̶͖͇̽̏o̷̢̐͝g̸̨̉̆ͅe̵̹̩̰̍̆̈́ĺ̶̨̬̤̫͆̈͆.̸̨̣̖͉̋̚"̷̜̤͠

~~.̴̹̔́͂͑̄̚ ̵̠̰̄͜.̶̖͖͖̱̓ͅ ̴͙͐̀.̶̠̥̹̞͕͇̂̂̇͑͘ ̵̘̏̽.̸͈̮̪̦̹̎̆͛̃̂͠ ̷̛̲̗͉̗͗́̊~~

.̵̦̭̘̫̈́̂͒͘ ̸̥̤̬̪͛͋̒͋͝͠.̵̘̘͈̈̄ ̷̗͓͓͍͠.̴̹̔́͂͑̄̚ ̵̠̰̄͜.̶̖͖͖̱̓ͅ ̴͙͐̀.̶̠̥̹̞͕͇̂̂̇͑͘ ̵̘̏̽.̸͈̮̪̦̹̎̆͛̃̂͠ ̷̛̲̗͉̗͗́̊.̸̛̰͎̹̍̏͒ ̴̪̍́͋̾̀.̸̢̮̟́ ̴͓̱͐

̸̨̥̗̺̲͕̞̼͔͋̉̔̀͆̓.̴̢̖̝̠̥̩̲̱͉͗͑͆ ̶̫̳͈͖͆͂̌̊̀̂̑̈͌.̵̡̝̟̟̘̤̙̗͇̩̣̅̂̉̄́̒͘͝ ̶͕̟̟͋̎͊̚.̴̠̫̆̋̎̅͝͝ͅ ̴̢̛̤̗̋̂̈́̋̐.̷̮͚̘͓͚̹͉̓̓̆̄͋̆̔͛̀͘͝͝ ̵̢̧̯̼̰̮̩̺͉̊͆͠ͅ.̷̰̬̿̌̀̍͑͋.̵̡̝̟̟̘̤̙̗͇̩̣̅̂̉̄́̒͘͝ ̶͕̟̟͋̎͊̚.̴̠̫̆̋̎̅͝͝ͅ ̴̢̛̤̗̋̂̈́̋̐.̷̮͚̘͓͚̹͉̓̓̆̄͋̆̔͛̀͘͝͝ ̵̢̧̯̼̰̮̩̺͉̊͆͠ͅ.̷̰̬̿̌̀̍͑͋ ̵̢̧̯̼̰̮̩̺͉̊͆͠ͅ.̷̰̬̿̌̀̍͑͋.̴̢̖̝̠̥̩̲̱͉͗͑͆ ̶̫̳͈͖͆͂̌̊̀̂̑̈͌.̵̡̝̟̟̘̤̙̗͇̩̣̅̂̉̄́̒͘͝ ̶͕̟̟͋̎͊̚.̴̠̫̆̋̎̅͝͝ͅ ̴̢̛̤̗̋̂̈́̋̐.̷̮͚̘͓͚̹͉̓̓̆̄͋̆̔͛̀͘͝͝ ̵̢̧̯̼̰̮̩̺͉̊͆͠ͅ.̷̰̬̿̌̀̍͑͋ ̴͓̱͐

̴͎̩̥̓̇̓.̶̱͈̻̲̆̀̈̑̓͜.̶̡̩̗̙́̍͐Y̴̡͕̰̪̿̅̕̕ọ̵̫̻̈͂u̵̩̣̙͒́͊ ̶̲͈̹̩̥̂͒k̷̰̤͖̥̐̀͊̈͆n̸͕̜̟͕̻͐̀͒͘͘ợ̴̾͛̂̈w̵̛̬̞̙͎͎͂ ̶̩͛̏͌̎͜i̸̠̩̗̗̙̖̿̇̆t̵̡͕̰̘̂͆͛̈́͐͝ ̵͕̏͗̎͌̇i̷̻͆̈́ș̶̡̢͊͋̒͊ ̵̳͐̅̐͊̿w̶̳̮̭̭̳̒r̸̛̠̞̒o̶̭̜̮͔̪̓́n̷̳̝̣͒͗̇̄̚g̸̜͚̣̠̝̝͘͝.̸̻̆͆.̴̧̛̲̪̰̪̀͝.̵̩̹̖̐͌̀͘
̴̰͚̼̈́̑̓͘͜.̶̺̭͔̙͒̏̋́͝.̶̢̗͎̞͐̋.̶̛̬̜̱̗͙̀̃͛̓̒Y̴͔̽̿͌̓͊͠ȯ̶̗͖̟͛̿͋̿͜ͅu̵̖̰̗̔̅̈r̷̡͇͓͕̜̈́ ̷͍͑̀̍̚͘͘ȯ̷͓̖͔̳͂̓͝ẃ̸͚̳̝̤͊͜n̷͇͒̂̊͊̽̚ ̵̡̘̜̙͓̂̋̂͘F̸̨͙̮̖͚̽̔̔̕̕a̵̼͚͛̆͛̀̀͠ẗ̶̤͂ͅͅh̶̰̿͝ḙ̶̤̬́̎̊͗̄r̵̼͈̗̟̜̭͊̒.̵̡͙̦͚̖͚̂́̈́.̶̟̹̹͍̹̈́̓͑.̷̤̹̻̊͝

.̶̦̱̻̤̦̪͚͒̓ ̸̢̻̜͒͛̇̂͗̅͂͆̓̈́̈́͜.̶̦̰͊̌ͅ ̴̡̙̪͔͔͓̹̗̦͒̐͑̊̓̐͜͝͝.̸͓̘̣̻͖̾̚ ̸̨̥̗̺̲͕̞̼͔͋̉̔̀͆̓.̴̢̖̝̠̥̩̲̱͉͗͑͆ ̶̫̳͈͖͆͂̌̊̀̂̑̈͌.̵̡̝̟̟̘̤̙̗͇̩̣̅̂̉̄́̒͘͝ ̶͕̟̟͋̎͊̚.̴̠̫̆̋̎̅͝͝ͅ ̴̢̛̤̗̋̂̈́̋̐.̷̮͚̘͓͚̹͉̓̓̆̄͋̆̔͛̀͘͝͝ ̵̢̧̯̼̰̮̩̺͉̊͆͠ͅ.̷̰̬̿̌̀̍͑͋.̵̡̝̟̟̘̤̙̗͇̩̣̅̂̉̄́̒͘͝ ̶͕̟̟͋̎͊̚.̴̠̫̆̋̎̅͝͝ͅ ̴̢̛̤̗̋̂̈́̋̐.̷̮͚̘͓͚̹͉̓̓̆̄͋̆̔͛̀͘͝͝ ̵̢̧̯̼̰̮̩̺͉̊͆͠ͅ.̷̰̬̿̌̀̍͑͋ ̷̭̺͆̒̂͌̇́̈͆͝.̶̟̱͇̙̳̅̑͐̓͌̓͌ ̴̛̛͕͖̔̌̅̒̊̐̒̕̚͝.̷̡͖̣̝̮̲̈͊̽̔

.̵̦̭̘̫̈́̂͒͘ ̸̥̤̬̪͛͋̒͋͝͠.̵̘̘͈̈̄ ̷̗͓͓͍͠.̴̹̔́͂͑̄̚ ̵̠̰̄͜.̶̖͖͖̱̓ͅ ̴͙͐̀.̶̠̥̹̞͕͇̂̂̇͑͘ ̵̘̏̽.̸͈̮̪̦̹̎̆͛̃̂͠ ̷̛̲̗͉̗͗́̊.̸̛̰͎̹̍̏͒ ̴̪̍́͋̾̀.̸̢̮̟́ ̴͓̱͐

"Doktor!" Misha's voice boomed against my ears, and large hands shook my very being, snapping me out of my daze.

What was I…? Yes, we were in the middle of another match, I remember now. Misha suggested a flanking route to surprise the REDs, the trail being far more roundabout than we originally thought. I last recall giving him my complaints but after that… it is just a blur of old memories long forgotten. Nein… I cannot forget—complacency will get me killed if I forget.

You might as well be dead now.

"Doktor," Misha continued his frantic shouting and shaking. "Should not stand in open—will get hurt! Doktor, we have to move—!"

The ringing shot of a rifle flew by, and a splash of red painted my vision. Blood and brain matter covered my face, and the weight of Misha's hands fell sideways, his massive body falling on the land and soaking the dirt in red. I looked upon the corpse, snapping out once I realized how much of a fool I was being standing in place.

"Scheiße!" I yelled, looking in the direction from where the rifle last fired before running to cover, the echo of another shot being triggered as it nicked my pack behind my back. Another shot was fired when I made it to safety, behind a wall but now trapped in place, the only direction leading anywhere being on the opposite side. Warming blue liquid ran down my leg as I looked at the damage, cursing aloud as I took it off and threw it aside—useless contraption!

You are slipping again.

My breathing hurried, wiping away the blood off my glasses as I placed them back on my face. My sight then went to the dead body of Misha before looking straight, trying to think of my next course of action.

Run for it… I would have to make a run for it…

A very careless course of action but my options were limited unless that RED firing afar wanted to come closer. I looked at my broken medical pack, grabbed it, and held it close to my chest. My body pressed against the wall as I inched closer to the end, eyeing a faint hint of a red dot flashing on the gravel.

The moment would never be ready but I had to be, throwing the pack forward, the ring of another rifle shot shooting through the air and a loud crackle of plastic and metal exploding. Blue gel covered the air amidst the explosion, using it as cover to run by to block the RED's vision. Another shot was quickly fired though, falling with a hoarse cry and loud thud. While I was able to make it to the other side, my leg had been nicked, blood and marrow soaking through my pants.

"Nnrh…!" I seethed through my teeth, trying to stand only to fumble on the ground in pain. Again, I tried, using the wall as leverage as I forced myself to walk, the only direction I could go being the wall keeping me supported.

This part of the area was nothing I was used to, and I despised admitting to myself that I was completely lost on where to go. The wall led me to an abandoned mining building, slumping off as I stumbled inside. The pain was becoming too unbearable, knees hitting the ground and heaving out. I picked my head up, spotting a Medkit on the other side but having little strength to crawl over to it.

A small curse escaped my lips, feeling utterly useless—why did I even listen to such a stupid suggestion?! My complaints were quick to end as I heard another noise of shoes approaching my way, panic rising and my heart pumping the more the noise grew. What strength I held went into holding my bonesaw, having to just sit there and wait for the person to approach ever closer.

Step…

The pointed end of a rifle showed itself first, and then a pair of bright shades shined against the cracks of the lights pouring through the holes of the building.

That ~~RE̶̞͘Ḏ̷̓͝~~ Sniper…

"There yah went," Sniper mumbled, just staring through me. His sight slowly went on the Medkit further away before exposing a big toothy smile. He walked by and grabbed the kit, snapping the top and throwing the unused contents carelessly away. All I could do was watch him heal himself, satisfied with a job well done as he patted at the wound on his shoulder. "Hah… My bad, Doc!" He laughed. "Guessin' yah needed that more, right?"

I held my bonesaw tightly, teeth grinding through the beating pain. Sniper was quite amused with himself, and I suppose he had every right to be with my sorry state.

"Bleib zurück!!" I yelled out as he walked closer, giving me no chance for a proper attack as he did a swift kick to my hand, making me drop my bonesaw as it skidded further away.

"And a bly-sric back at'cha," Sniper mocked, giving me another kick, this one going straight through my stomach. I gagged, feeling spit rise in my throat as I held it back, trying to keep my breathing in control as my body would not stop shaking. "Damn German freak," he spitted next, putting more weight in his next kick as I rolled over on the floor, completely exhausted.

Sniper stood over me, just looking down at my being with a strange glint of hunger in his eyes. He then knelt to my level and grabbed my face, turning it right to left. His thumb grossly peeled back my lips to get a better look at my teeth. When he saw I was about to bite he pulled away with a laugh, "Now yer a feisty one, ain'tcha? Suppose it'll do…"

The click of a belt being pulled and the rustle of clothing moving told me enough of his next perverse action, bringing some dormant energy back into my system and using my good leg to kick him in the abdomen, trying to create distance. He grunted a noise, exposing more of his teeth as he grabbed my bad leg, putting pressure on the wound. I screamed, my body convulsing in pain. Spit drenched my chin, coughing more out as the pain continued.

Sniper gave mercy only for a moment before forcing me on my stomach, a strong hand on the back of my neck to keep me down. His other hand ran up my rear, getting a good feel of the flesh still hidden beneath the cloth.

“Ich werde dich töten!!” I gasped through my coughing, spit still uncontrolled as it wet the wood beneath me. More of Sniper rutted against me, feeling how hard he had already become. All I could do in my position was take it, body heavy and mind dizzy from lack of blood. This man would go so far as to use my body when I am not even conscious—disgusting filth!

You knew better.

Damn it, I will not…!

Getting into such a position means you deserve it.

I will not be disgraced by such filth!

“Yah can only imagine how long I've been wantin' to do this, Doc—" Sniper had begun before stopping abruptly, movements soon following suit. A loud tearing of flesh echoed against the wood, the man gasping and spewing out blood from his lips. Fresh splatters of blood soaked through my coat, and the weight of my backside was lifted as the man fell beside me. My tired sight looked over, confused, seeing his throat cleaved in with a gashing hole, eyes completely lifeless. Only the slight spasms of his body remained before it too stopped altogether, life taken away.

"Doc!" Someone shouted close by, trying to gain my attention as my body stayed on the floor, completely exhausted and barely staying awake. I felt their touch as they tried to help me up, shaking my entire being to keep me awake. "Oie, Doc! Hang in there a bit, a'right!”

Oh, it is Sniper…

The ~~B̸͔̓L̵͚͠Ű̵̠~~ Sniper…

Is it?

Oh… I cannot tell the colours apart again…

How troublesome…

...

…

Stop being useless and wake up.

My eyes shot wide, first hearing the sounds of the soft rustle of cloth being torn and stretched. They soon open properly, the blur of a man appearing in my eyes, wrapping bandages over the wound on my leg. He soon noticed me awake, surprised at first but exposing a toothy smile.

"Mornin', Doc," Sniper had greeted, finished with the bandage as he cut the end off. His presence was needlessly close to me, picking myself up a bit to scoot away. Though, the movements did make the wound in my leg flare up, seething a bit once I sat back down. Sniper of course had to ruin my efforts as he once again intruded into my space, hand on my backside so as to not fall over. "Easy, don't be movin’ so much.”

I held my sight, letting him have his way for the moment as he went to cut off more bandages from the open Medkit. The silence settled in the meantime, only hearing the vague sounds of shouting and explosions ringing afar.

I should be out there right now —they just go off and kill themselves without me around.

“That arse is gonna give us Snipers a bad name tryin' somethin' like that,” Sniper spouted suddenly with a click of his tongue, exposing a bit of life on his face.

“…It is expected," I murmured my opinion back, even if I found the minor talking to be useless banter.

“Oie, don’t be goin’ off sayin' stuff like that so casually now," he outright scolded, very offended by my comment.

“It is expected," I repeated. "Vork here affects men's heads in many vays, even sodomy. Alvays prepare for ze vorse.”

Sniper argued no further, shaking his head. "Well, don't have to tell me twice with those Spooks now," He spat at that. "Gentlemen my arse…”

With enough bandages placed, the pain in my leg soon recovered, able to stand on my two feet again as I wiped off the dust and grim covered on my coat—blood would have to stay until my next Respawn. Sniper stood the same, hefting his rifle on his backside.

"Danke," I gave my thanks, getting the chance to fix my glasses properly on my face. "But I need to head back to respavn and get nev equipment.”

"Can escort yah myself," he was acting strangely cheery when asking that, hand held out. "No worries!"

I merely looked at his hand and then blinked, "Vhat?”

“Er…" Sniper's awkwardness exposed himself, not sure how to reply as he brought his hand back to his side before running it up his neck. "If—If ya needed an escort back is all… Ehaha…”

“I vill be fine," I began before phoning a smile and laugh to make him leave faster. "Best get back to vork—you knov hov Soldier is, oho!”

“Right!” Sniper stepped back, already making his move to leave. “I'll watch yer back as yer headin' out.” And with that he turned, fiddling his hat down and mumbling to himself as he left.

When did he become so talkative?

It is something I need not worry about—I need to head back and re-gear. So, I hurried out the same, hoping to avoid unneeded fights when returning to base. There was such luck on my side as I found a familiar man coming my way in a huff, seeming completely exhausted and in a panic.

"Doktor!" Misha shouted, both relieved and most happy to see me alive. He came up, almost running himself into me as his large boots stomped into the gravel to stop himself. "Heavy scared something bad happened—is Doktor alright? Doktor has blood all over clothes!"

“Just a minor skirmish,” my answer was kept short, not in the mood for talk. “I had some assistance.”

“Assistance?” Misha was most surprised to hear that, thinking for a moment. “Who helped Doktor?”

"No one important,” I waved away the question before the talking went on too long, walking around him so I could get to my destination faster. “Let us head back to Respavn, ja?" Misha hurried behind me, loud steps crushing the gravel beneath him.

"Da, Doktor! Heavy make sure to protect better!"

No more foolish suggestions.

I stopped abruptly in front of him, Misha's next step harshly stomping on the ground so as to not run into me. He exposed a look of utter surprise and worry, not understanding why I would do that.

I turned, “No more foolish suggestions,” and said simply, sight straight on him. “Ja?”

Misha shamefully looked down on himself before nodding quietly, “Right, Doktor…”

Chapter 2: Drugs

Chapter Text

“Greetings, Herr Spy!” I said aloud, turning around in my chair.

Spy had finally made his appearance in my medical office, far too well-dressed and pampered for someone about to have a complete body check. This particular man was assigned under my care once he settled into the new base, having complications my expertise could handle that the other Doctors could not address.

Reading some of the notes given from admission, it seemed that the Respawn may have malfunctioned in restoring a part of his body—unsurprisingly, his lungs have a hole in them that cannot properly heal, no matter how many times revived. That dreaded overconsumption of nicotine surely caused this—medicine can only do so much to help, always coming down to the person wishing to change for the better. Judging by his state, this Spy looks like a man not wishing to change anytime soon.

No different from the rest.

Even when greeted, the man held quiet, coming over to settle himself on the makeshift medical bed, awaiting further instructions. He looked so pathetic right now— the fear of death can weaken the strongest wills, especially for a man who seems to have given up already. How dramatic—I doubt it will take long to figure out proper treatment without the Respawn causing further issues.

I turned in my chair to face my desk, looking upon his folder once again, annoyed with how little information I was given of even the simplest of things— name, birth, even the blood type! Bothersome, but I will just have to write and learn as I go. The first thing that will help me is knowing what he even looks like underneath that dirty piece of fabric.

Turning around again, I asked with my usual façade of a smile, “If you can take off your balaclava.”

Spy did nothing at first, hesitating on such an action—I suppose I can understand his circumstance, that part of clothing seemed most important. But after some time, an arm moved, fingers snapping at the thin line of cloth pressing into the skin. And slowly, he started taking it off, revealing his face.......

His…

…Face…

…Groomed hair…

…A clean-shaven cut…

…Slight wrinkles near his eyes…

…His tired, sleepless blue eyes…

…It had been so long I had almost forgotten your face…

…How could I ever have forgotten…

…You always meant the world to me…

…I missed you…

…I…

“Doctor?”

I snapped out of my daze, Spy looking back at me like he was worried about my well-being. The tightening of my chest was more noticeable, and I could feel the heat of my forehead rise, sweat making my glasses slide down to the edge of my nose.

“Oho, I do apologize!" I hurriedly gave another fake smile and laugh. “Your appearance caught me by surprise—vould you be offended if I say you are quite ze handsome man?”

A twitch of a smile appeared on Spy’s face, showing some semblance of life again.

“Non, Doctor, I appreciate the compliment… the years have not been well for my figure.”

My pulse rose above one hundred beats.

Letting simple compliments get the better of you…

Those thoughts of mine were carelessly thrown aside—there is nothing wrong with a compliment. Spy is playing the part, and still he let some weakness slip by right in front of me…

The praise…

The recognition…

The trust…

All from him…

I brought my hand forward, being careful to place it on top of Spy’s.

“Herr Spy," I began, squeezing his hand ever so gently. "I vill do everyzhing in my power to help you.”

And for once, I felt like I was able to hold a genuine smile after so many years.

“I am a Doctor after all……

…….

……

….

Coo~

My dreary eyes opened, awoken by the sound of a bird cooing near my ear. A soft bump pressed against my cheek, rubbing as more of the cooing went on. I raised my head, a slight grumble in my voice as I adjusted the tilt on my glasses. The brightness of the room was enough of a tell that I was in my medical office still, having dozed off on my desk.

Archimedes bumped his head against my cheek again, wishing my fullest attention as I gently rubbed a single finger through his head in return. He then rested upon my shoulder once relaxed, calmly cooing and fluffing his wings.

With his attention satisfied, my sight went upon the mess of papers I had slept upon. Most were just mindlessly written scribbles out of habit—letters and numbers with very little meaning that can come off as important to others. Looking busy keeps the others away with their inane issues—unless their lower body is deprived of any functioning legs, I wish not to be disturbed on my more important matters.

Important matters you are neglecting again.

Throughout the mess, I came across the file of Spy, taking a long look before opening it. And out of habit, I flipped to the page with his facial picture, staring…

My fingers caressed the image, sliding from his hairline down to his neck. His face was completely exposed for me to witness—it felt like the highest privilege to be given such a photo. I could only hold a smile, lost in my thoughts.

He really does look like you…

“Doktor!”

The sudden booming voice of a man stomped through the doors, frightening me out of my reckless daydreaming, spooking Archimedes off my shoulder. I hurried to fix myself together, sitting properly and pretending to keep focus on my papers.

“Vhat is it? I am quite busy at ze moment!” I exclaimed aloud without even giving the man my attention. The thudding stomps came closer before stopping, a slight click of metal settling beside me as I ended up looking over in curiosity. It was a familiar hand-crafted sandwich—bread, ham, lettuce, and cheese with an olive held up by a thin toothpick on top.

“Sandvich~!” Misha said happily, able to catch my attention with his large presence. “Heavy made it for Doktor! Doktor never came for dinner after battle!”

When he mentioned dinner, my sight looked upon the clock above the door, finding time had indeed slipped by.

“Vork has kept me occupied," I excused myself, knowing my daydreaming was taking over rather than my work. It has been a troublesome habit since Spy has joined… one I am accepting of having.

Eyeing the sandwich again, I reached a gloveless hand out, biting into it, finding the taste more pleasurable on my tongue than expected as I hurried to take another bite. Misha watched in utter glee as I ate, seeing how red in the face he was getting just watching me eat like a slob. He does terribly to hide his fondness—it is to himself, so it is no worry for me. Having an extra hand is never a downside.

The doors swung open yet again, Sniper making his strange appearance in my office for once, face completely open without the hindrance of those giant glasses or hat. That exposed his awkwardness he usually hides before raising his head properly, showing a toothy smile.

“Heya!” Sniper said, far more casually than he usually acted around others. “Not interrupting yah two love birds, am I?”

“Love birds?” Misha repeated, a bit confused about the meaning.

“Did you need somzhing, Herr Sniper?” I rudely spoke through my eating, even taking another bite to show how much I cared about speaking at the moment.

“Thought yah would like some assistance, that’s all,” he said, thumbing at himself.

Misha and I glanced at one another then back at Sniper. That was most unusual, far more than him coming willingly to my office today. And Misha seemed skeptical the same, on guard now when approaching Sniper.

“Very strange,” he commented, glancing over Sniper‘s entire body to notice anything peculiar.

“No ill intentions,” Sniper said, acting nervous now with having someone taller look down on him. “Can even check me if yah think I’m some dirty rat, no worries.”

“Hmm…” Misha’s arms crossed in thought. “Sniper help? Can Sniper move bed?” He then said, pointing at the movable stretcher in the middle of the medical room. “Easy job for Heavy.”

“Aw, that’s apples!”

“We are dealing with Bed, not Apples,” Misha scolded, obviously not understanding the meaning yet again.

“Right,” Sniper cleared his throat, making his way around Misha.

Sniper went from one side to the other, trying to figure out where to even start before grabbing on to some firm metal beneath, using as much upper arm strength as his muscles could provide. And failing quite spectacularly in even lifting the thing more than an inch, cursing lowly at himself as he clenched his hands from the pain beating through. Even then, he tried again, huffing and spewing another curse.

“Ohaha,” Misha bellowed in laughter at his fumbling, "Body snap in two if you try any harder!" He then came over, telling Sniper to let go as he hunched down, one arm beneath, palm flat on the metal as he grunted a noise. With little effort, Misha was able to hold the entire bed up high with one arm, knocking around some of the bird cages hanging above while doing this.

“Put zhat dovn,” I yelled, already annoyed by all this sudden foolery. “You are going to break somzhing!”

Misha almost dropped the bed entirely when I yelled, keeping to his feet before settling it back down with a heavy clang.

“Sorry, Doktor!” He apologized, expressing his embarrassment whilst fiddling with his fingers.

“You,” I then gave Sniper my attention, making his shoulders jump a bit in surprise. "If you vant to do somzhing useful, clean out ze bird cages!”

A little hope returned in Sniper’s eyes, quite confident in this ordeal as he headed towards one of the cages.

“Dealin' with animals is my specialty, right is!" He sadly is bad at choosing, starting with Diogenes cage of all things—how unfortunate, but I cannot stop him if he wishes to assist me. "C’mere little beut—ghek?!” And of course, Diogenes did not like his space messed with, starting his pecking fest with right fury, wings fluttering, making a further mess into Sniper’s already unkempt hair.

“Bird no like Sniper,” Misha commented, watching the man trying to defend himself against the tiny bird with little success. “Heavy make sure Sniper keeps eyeballs. Eyeballs very important!”

Misha then hurried over, able to help Sniper by carefully snatching Diogenes, scolding the man lightly at first before trying to explain how to handle each bird within the room. Sniper was quick to listen, nodding and able to keep an awkward smile throughout the lecturing.

What an embarrassment of a man.

My stare held on Sniper as I finished with the last bite of my food….

……..

…..

…

“Doktor need me no more?”

Night had rolled by faster than expected, the two finally done running around being bothersome nuisances. At least they were able to clean the cages and feed the birds—less worry for me in the future.

“Ja, I vould like to finish vith ze rest of my notes in peace,” I repeated, wishing to be left alone.

"Heavy give Doktor space! No trouble," Misha replied with a warm smile, taking the empty plate with him to dispose of. His leave was stopped when Sniper did not join, head tilted slightly as to why the man was still standing about.

“Er,” Sniper was quick to notice the staring, having to think for a moment before continuing, “Don't suppose I can have a chat with the Doc, yeah?"

Misha seemed conflicted to say anything, eyeing my attention over as I waved for his leave. He takes in my response, nodding his goodbye, leaving only Sniper and me in that room now.

“Vhat do you vant from me, Herr Sniper?” I began, not holding back on my accusations. “All zhis sudden charity is more zhan you breaking out of your shell, ja?”

“Guessin’ I ain’t that good of a liar, ehe," His awkwardness showed yet again, his hand moving like he wanted to fiddle with something on his head before landing weirdly on his neck.

“Just tell me vhat ze issue is,” I sighed, exposing how tired I was when rubbing at my temple. “Ve are bozh grovn men—do speak your mind.”

Sniper’s expression returned to a more commonly dreary look, eyes on the ground.

“…I ran out,” he mumbled, barely reaching my eardrums.

My head tilted ever so slightly, repeating, “Out?”

“The medication I get.”

I thought for a moment and then slid the papers further up my desk, making sure Spy’s file was deeper within the stack.

“One moment,” I said, getting up from my chair and heading deeper into the office—a storage area in the back where the rest of the men's files were hidden. A cramped place, but I easily knew of the location of everything I needed, only scooching between a shelf before reaching out to grab a box over my head.

Every file within was in order—Scout first, Spy last, and Sniper in-between me and Spy. And with Spy's already gone, Sniper was last in the row. Grabbing his file, I did a quick look over, glancing at his name, age, and criminal records in the process. The usual drivel—overdue tickets, unlicensed hunting. I suppose the only thing to really pop out are some sexual assault charges that were quickly dropped as false. None of that was important, and I was wasting time on useless information when I needed most were his medical records.

And they are… Yes, he has been assigned a dosage of SSRIs every two weeks—his next order should be four days from now. While I do always carry extra medication for emergencies, I cannot just throw pills at my patients willy-nilly without proper reason—I do not need a hopeless drug addict in my growing list of problems.

Finished, I snapped the folder shut, taking it with me as I returned to the medical room.

It was quite a surprise to see when returning, Sniper being a dreadful snoop as he looked at my desk without so much permission. His hands came dangerously close to the stack of files I wished not touch, making my chest flare up and skip a beat.

“Do not touch my zhings!” My voice rose, hiding my slight panic by expressing a look of utter anger at him.

Sniper was quick to back away from my desk altogether, trying his best to hold a smile whilst apologizing an excuse, “My bad, Doc—just a bit uneasy at the moment, ehaha…”

My sight held, Sniper standing awkwardly in the middle of the room now as he waited for me to speak. With a slight readjustment to my glasses, I opened his folder, eyes scanning to his medical records before laying a single finger on the paper, preferably on the two weeks part.

“You still have some days left till your next order arrives,” I exclaimed, waiting for his pitiful excuse.

And yet all he returned was a simple, “Yeah.”

I frowned, getting straight to the point, “Are you overindulging?”

There was a pause in the conversation before he spoke up, “Blokes higher up told me my parents called again… Ain't answerin' them...”

“Vhat does zhat have to do vith your overconsumption?”

He paused again, having trouble keeping his sight when speaking now, “Been hard to keep focus lately.”

I snapped the folder shut and shook my head, my growing annoyance exposing itself.

“Yes, and zhese vill keep you less focused if you consume past ze recommended usage!” Amidst my scolding, I hurried closer, taking hold of his chin to make him look at me properly before moving it side to side, getting a better angle of his features. He was quite shocked, eyes slightly open as he let me do this.

Even in the darkness of the room, seeing Sniper this close up truly exposed the periorbital dark circles under his eyes. He is always wearing those damned aviators for me to notice—do not make my job harder, Sniper! "You look as if you have not slept in veeks! Verdammt, I should have noticed zhis sooner.” I let go, again having to wait for another one of his sorry excuses for acting so unprofessional.

“…Please,” his plea was far too pathetic to be said from a trained killer, his head once again held low. "I need this job... I can't go back home.”

“Is it because of vhat you did?” I replied coldly and straight to the point.

The squeak of his half-glove tightened.

I continued, “Your personal information is all in ze folder like everyone else, Mick Mundy.”

No defense or even excuse was made, Sniper standing in place, already defeated. His passiveness is enough to show how serious an issue this was. As annoying as it is, morale cannot worsen when performance is already under.

I turned, heading towards my desk and going through my cabinets to find the medicine he needed. And once I did, I came back, holding it right in front of him as his head snapped up in surprise. Sniper still held silent, looking at the bottle for a long while before his sight was back on me.

"I do not let myself get distracted on emotional judgment, Herr Sniper,” I gave my honest opinion, taking his arm to place the medicine in his hand before backing away. "As long as you do your job and not cause trouble, I vill give as much as you need.” Again, I turned my back on him and sat down in my chair. “Nov go avay."

Another beat filled the room, the sound of papers shuffling and birds cooing keeping us preoccupied. Soon, the soft clicking of steps passed by, followed by the door sliding ajar.

“…Thanks, Doc,” a far too gentle phrase ran across my eardrums before being replaced by the squeaking of the doors clicking close.

My sight came upon my door.

This will cause you problems in the future.

Such intrusive thoughts made me shake my head, turning back to my desk, throwing Sniper’s file within the mess of papers. I did what was best for the team—If he comes for more, I doubt he will be troublesome about it.

My sight came upon my doors once more before finally searching through the pile of papers, finding Spy’s file and opening it to the page with his picture. Any annoyance I held washed away, getting lost in my daydreams of you all over again.

Vater...

Chapter 3: Piano

Chapter Text

I yawned aloud, slipping one of the men's files back into my filing box, done with my writings on today’s medical examination. A simple weekly event, making sure everyone's health was in check and no one was growing extra appendages—at least without me knowing. Respawn has its quirks, and it is not a perfect system. Spy would not be having these issues if it was.

My sight went to the last folder—Spy's folder, saved for last. I perked a smile on my face as I carefully slipped it at the end, pushing the box back on the shelf. With that all sorted, I returned to my office, walking back to my desk and eyeing the sandwich that had been left uneaten hours ago. Correction, it was being nibbled upon by Archimedes as he pecked at the edges of the bread.

"Oh, stop it," I shooed him away, grabbing the plate and dumping the entire thing in my wastebasket below. My sight went to the clock above my door—oh dear, it is slightly past four AM. And with how Soldier is, that trumpet of his is going to be blowing by five on the dot. I have truly let the time, let alone the days get the better of me.

Archimedes cooed quietly, bringing my sight back to him. He dipped his tiny head ever slightly, eyes closed before raising them open again, a slight flutter to his wings as he trotted closer to me.

“Ja, perhaps it is time for bozh of us to get some proper sleep,” I said quietly the same, letting Archimedes sit on my finger, helping him to his cage. He fluttered his wings before settling in, head dipped and eyes fully closed, sleeping blissfully until my return.

Once I check over the rest of the birds, I leave my office, heading towards the bedrooms to get my own few minutes of rest. I cannot even recall the last time I was given the chance to sleep in a proper bed——

~Kuckuck, Kuckuck…

…ruft aus dem Wald~

My legs stilled…

A familiar tune rang in my ears…

It was out of rhythm, but the words came so simply for me to repeat…

~Kuckuck, Kuckuck…

…läßt nicht sein Schrei'n~

Its tone echoed further down the hallway, further past the bedrooms, and deeper within the base...

And I went…

…Deeper and Deeper…

~Kuckuck, Kuckuck…

…trefflicher Held~

Until there was a door…

And I entered…

…My thoughts come back to me as I suddenly found myself in a different place, realizing where I was now. It was a large storage area, filled with thrown away instruments, gadgets, and useless party favors left for holidays. Various objects were also left forgotten here by past mercenaries—hats, clothing, and locked crates unopened without a key. Even some things I have discarded were here… oh gott, I have forgotten about that hideous satchel given to me last Smissmas.

The tune that had once tranced me continued differently, giving me notice of the man deeper within, settled in front of the Piano as his hands moved carefully along the broken keys.

“Nay, that sounds horrible,” he mumbled to himself, grabbing at his bottle and chugging down. I focused through the dim lighting, realizing the man was Demoman, out of uniform and in more casual wear. And he was messing around with the old Piano, pressing down on one of the keys and barely tuning a sound from the worn string. When he tapped another key, my face scrunched up all annoyed and I hurried closer.

And calmly I said beside him, "Demoman."

Demoman shoulders shot up as he turned, quite frightened until he saw my face through the dim light. All he could do was smile and say with a laugh, "Scared me there, Doc."

"It is four in the morning,” I deadpanned.

He nodded, "Ey, ain't it!"

I sighed, rubbing at my face until that annoyance turned into pain, a slight throbbing at my temple.

“Lookin’ a bit drowsy there, Doc,” Demoman noticed, slight worry in his voice.

“I vill be fine—minor headache.”

He offered out his whiskey bottle, making the liquid swish within.

“A bit of whiskey can help break that up—”

“I said I vill be fine, Demoman,” my voice rose, taking a heavy breath after. “I just… need to sit dovn.”

Demoman scooched a bit on the large piano seat, patting on the other side for me to sit. Despite the awful order he omitted, I sat next to him anyway, trying to ease the throbbing still beating.

“If ye were askin’ why I’m still up,” Demoman blurted, wanting to start a conversation. “I was havin’ a bit of trouble sleepin’ like ye. So, thought I’d bore myself playin’ some keys on this buet.” He thumbed behind us. My head turned slightly, looking at the keys, dusty and forgotten until now. Such silly curiosity was getting the better of me, now interested in this foul-smelling man chugging away at his whiskey bottle.

"I never sav you as a man vho could play piano,” I asked honestly, continuing to ease myself by rubbing my fingers between the bridge of my nose.

"Ohhh, folks needed to keep me occupied with somethin',” he said a bit mindlessly, looking a bit bored as he gently pressed the middle C.

"Your family is quite rich, ja?”

"Too bloody rich,” he scuffed, not even looking at the Piano anymore as he sat forward. “Always tryin’ to push responsibilities onto me with the business! Can't have a laid-back life of drinkin' now."

His annoyance quite amused me, bringing a smile through the pain I was going through, "Some people cannot sit still… Just human nature, Demoman."

"My nature's callin' a good bottle of whiskey and sunshine on a beach, ey,” he chuckled, shaking his whiskey bottle over before taking a sip.

I give myself a reason to be distracted from the pain, eyes on the edge of the headboard of the piano, running my hand along the splintered wood. Even I could tell by its state it has been used far longer than I have been alive.

"My family vas vealthy as vell,” I continued before pausing, Demoman finished with his sip of whiskey as he waited for me to begin again. "At least vith everyzhing going on at ze time... Vater taught me piano.”

"Ey, he did?" That got him listening closer with a bit of excitement, very much curious about this information.

"I have not practiced for some time,” I said with a shake of my head and paused, hands off the piano now, not even looking at Demoman as I stared forward at the darkness of the room.

"Too busy with work I'm guessin'?" He answered when I failed to reply quickly.

"...Bad memories." Bad memories…

"Sounds rough, Doc," he nodded, quite understanding and giving me space. "Can only play when sober meself." That got my head snapping at him, exposing my irritation when eyeing the bottle. Demoman laughed at my reaction, giving me a friendly pat on my shoulder, "Ayyy, just a joke—I'm actually a bit tipsy right now, ohaha!”

My curiosity was sated, his foolery now making me want to get up and walk out. This insufferable throbbing, however, was stopping me from even getting to my feet. When my fingers rubbed against my temple again, a whiskey bottle showed itself in front of me. My sight went on Demoman holding the thing, happy to give it away. And despite my better judgment, I grab the thing, wanting this headache gone by any means necessary at this point.

"A good bit of pint always helps," He encouraged with another pat on my shoulder, just eyeing the thing as the odor it spewed went up my nostrils. Though, the smell became strangely nostalgic the more I took it in, finally taking the first sip as I downed the rest in one swallow.

His tasted sweeter.

“Avful,” I spat, coughing and shoving the empty bottle back into his chest.

“Aww, ye just have no taste in good whiskey,” he laughed anyway at my attitude, settling the garbage on the ground.

The alcohol did help some, the throbbing settling as I was able to get to my feet.

“Danke,” I gave my thanks, doing another rub to my bridge as my sight went past Demoman and back on the piano. That nostalgic warmth returned, and I ended up blurting, "I did not knov you knev hov to play Kuckuck, ruft's aus dem Vald.”

"Playin' wat?"

My body stiffened.

Demoman tilted his head, turning around in his seat for a moment to let his hurried fingers play against the keys, a completely different tone ringing in my ears. “Nay, wasn’t playin’ much of anythin’,” he admits, turning to face me again with a bit of praise. “Just lettin’ my fingers do the workin’. Must be good at it if ye thought it was a song ye heard before.”

I said nothing, still put on the spot as Demoman again seemed confused. His worrying notice snapped me out, and I turned my back on him with a sharp step.

“Just do not cause a further ruckus,” I scolded, already making my walk out. “I can hear you play all ze vay back in my office!”

His laughter rang from behind as he apologized, “Ey, I’ll be quiet, Doc!”

The rest of my leave was in a rush, hurried to close the door behind me as I once again stood in place, waiting…

For that tune…

For it to play…

For long forgotten memories…

But nothing but a scramble of unfitted notes rang against my ears, no love or care put into them as the key strings could barely play a tune. The more I listened, the more it irritated me, worsening my headache further.

This is just wasted time!

I scold myself, taking my leave and heading down the hallway, hoping to not bump into Soldier before I make it to my room—

“Good mornin’ Doc!” Soldier suddenly appeared in front of me as I skidded, coming to a halt. A trumpet was in his hand, and he was already fit into his work uniform, smiling widely with glee.

Scheiße.

Chapter 4: Little Bird

Chapter Text

“Kuckuck, Kuckuck ruft aus dem Wald~”

I walked down the dimmed hallway of my home, humming my favorite song I had been practicing to perfection. My fingers tapped in the air, memorizing how each key went, stopping and starting over if I had forgotten the pattern. My face got all puffed up, annoyed with myself as I had to stop to properly think about the next key. “Mrr… Was it sharp or flat next?”

A click of ice hitting glass made me turn my head, realizing I had stopped at Vater’s door, light beading out the open gap. It was nosy of me, but I had not seen Vater all day—I wanted to see Vater.

And there I saw him, sat on his fancy resting chair, out of uniform and in comfier bedwear. His eyes focused on the fireplace in front of him, watching the blaze burn against his glasses. A whiskey glass was sat on a small table next to him, ice swimming above the line of the dark reddish liquid within. The crystal coloring mirrored against the light of the room that I could even see my reflection from afar.

Vater sighed heavily, taking a sip from the glass, making the ice click once more.

…Vater is drunk.

Vater has said the war has been tough on a lot of our people, and that they needed his medical skills the most as we had a more privileged life… I wished he noticed how much this extra work has been affecting him.

I have felt lonely with his absence…

“Kleiner Vogel…”

My heart jumped, hearing Vater call for me suddenly. His hand rose from the armrest, waving me to come forward. So, I gently pushed past the door and walked deeper inside, rounding around the chair to block the view of the fire. His blank stare was on the ground when I came over, perking up with life once he picked his head up to look at me.

“Ja, Vater?” I asked, a bit nervous, hands behind my backside.

“I heard you singing that children’s song,” he began, a bit slow in his words. “You like that song a lot, yes?”

I nod, “Ja...”

“Hm, you like birds a lot,” he said more quietly, rolling the ice in his glass, memorized by the crystal-like color it gave. "We should get you a bird —it’ll teach you how to handle precious life better."

“Really,” my eyes beamed in delight, letting myself get a little giddy in front of Vater as I came closer to his chair rest. “I can have a bird?”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Once things calm down, I promise.”

"Will everything go back to normal soon?" I asked, getting no response from Vater as he stopped rolling the ice in his glass. The pause made me question further, "Are you going to leave home again? I’m older now, so I can take care of myself!”

Again, Vater said nothing, lost in his thoughts. I know he can always entrust a maid to take care of me, but I am older —he does not have to treat me like a child anymore!

Vater took a slow sip from his glass, finishing his drink as he stared past me and quietly at the fire. Without even looking, he laid a hand on my head, brushing his callous fingers into my hair. I take in the warmth and comfort given, feeling as if it has been too long since I last felt his touch…

“...Never show weakness, Kleiner Vogel,” he told me, his hand off, taking me out of my daze. "Weakness now will only get you harmed."

“I understand, Vater,” I said quietly with another nod. “I’ll be strong.”

His sight and smile returned, “You were always a bright boy.” And again, he turned his attention in favor of the fireplace. “I would like to be alone now… Go to bed, it is late . You have lessons in the morning.”

“Will you have time to help me practice piano?” I asked, knowing whatever answer he gave was never going to be true.

"…If I have time.” That was enough for me to follow in his request, giving space between us. “Kleiner Vogel,” Vater called out once more when I went to leave, hand on the door handle as I waited for his next say. “ Ich liebe dich .”

“… Ich liebe dich , Vater,” I repeated back, even if the words did not feel truthful.

Vater had been lost in his own world now as I had yet to leave, just standing near the door, staring at his lonesome and sad self. Slight warmth filled my face the more I stared…

Vater, what can I do to help you...?

…

Coo~

Coo~?

Familiar cooing reached my ears, once again waking up in a mess of my own papers. I grumbled, feeling more of Archimedes insistent rubbing as I shooed him away, settled quietly on the edge of my desk now. Fixing the slight skew of my glasses, I looked upon the clock above my door, finding the time to be fairly early in the day to be resting of all things.

I hurried through the mess of papers, trying to remember where I had left off. That was when I noticed a particular folder amidst the rest... Yes, the new Scout coming... Now I can recall why I have been feeling so tired recently—admissions have been throwing me extra work with the transfer of our old Scout. That woman understands how intrusive sudden paperwork is—she truly does not care, even when giving me other responsibilities.

You are too stubborn to make her care.

Annoyed, I shuffled the papers all together in a neat pile, wasting some of my time out of spite.

"Dreadful voman," I scolded lowly at Archimedes as he tilted his head, cooing curiously.

The medical doors squeaked at first before opening wider, my attention distracted by the noise, watching Sniper entering. I should have expected his troublesome reappearance after that day, but I doubt he is here for more medication already—he is not that pathetic now. Like Misha, he is here to pester—it would do me better if he left altogether so I can refocus on my work.

“I do hope zhis is of importance, Herr Sniper,” I was already accusing, doing one last shuffle with the papers before placing them down. “I can only do so much…” My words stopped, turning in my seat, taking notice of him hiding something within his hands.

Sniper seemed a bit wary to speak, taking a breath first. “Doc,” he began, opening his hands. “I was practicin’ outside and the poor little guy got in my firin’.” What he showed was a bird—a bloodied dove. Parts of its body were completely mangled, a̴ ̸g̴a̷p̴i̵n̸g̵ ̸h̵o̵l̵d̶ ̶t̶h̵r̵o̷u̸g̶h̶ ̵i̵t̵s̸ ̶c̸h̶e̷s̴t̸ ̶a̷n̸d̷ ̷b̴o̷n̸e̵s̵,̵ ̶g̵u̸t̵s̵ ̵a̴n̴d̸ ̴b̴l̵o̵o̷d̷ ̵a̵n̵d̶ ̴e̴n̵t̸r̷a̴i̴l̸s̶ ̸a̶n̵d̵ ̴m̸o̷r̸e̶ b̸l̵o̶o̵d̶ ̶b̷l̷o̷o̷d̵ ̸b̵l̶o̵o̷d̶ ̶b̷l̸o̸o̵d̵dd

…The heavy weight upon my body…

…Broken glass and blood painting my face in red…

…The beating against my chest stopped in place…

…Still warm but unmoving…

…A scream…

…Cutting…

…Until the screaming finally stopped…

…Warmth filled my fingers, feeling it beat…

…Until it too stopped…

—̸̩̎—̶̺̇́—̵͍͛and I wanted yah to know.”

My thoughts returned, not realizing Sniper had been talking for some time now. When I gave my full attention, he became very uneasy, almost afraid to look at me properly. So, I stood, hands reaching out and taking the mangled animal for myself. Yes, I believe this one was Epicurus… he was always escaping his cages no matter how many times I scolded him…

What a waste.

My long stare held before my eyebrows furrowed, and I gave an honest question to Sniper, “Vhy are you shoving me zhis?”

Sniper’s head picked up, exposing how utterly shocked he was with my words.

“Ze zhing is dead,” I continued, scolding even. “And you are carrying it around like some sort of mutt.” I did not wait for his excuse, heading back to my desk as I pulled a small wastebasket underneath, dumping the dead thing within the mess of used bloody tissues and empty syringes. And as if nothing had happened, I settled in my chair, focused on my papers. “If zhat vas all you vere here for, do leave me be—”

Before I finished, I felt a force skid my chair back. Sniper had rushed over, having enough strength to pull me away from my desk as he hunched below, rummaging through the wastebasket—Dummkopf, you are going to hurt yourself!

I was truly appalled at such an action as I got up and hurried over, trying to wrestle his arm out of the trash.

"Vhat are you doing?!"

Sniper hissed, holding the dead filth in one hand, shaking off a syringe that stuck to his other. I finally got him to his feet, trying to get a look over the damage only for him to shrug me off, making sure not to squish his hands together when covering the bird again.

"Little fella shouldn't be treated like this!" His voice rose, exposing that anger only seen on the battlefield. I truly did not understand this sudden mood change over an animal of all things, shaking my head in disbelief.

"It is a dead animal,” I exclaimed. “Do you not hunt yourself?"

"I kill animals to eat, not for sport! There's a bleedin' difference!" Again, his anger boomed, agitating the rest of the birds in the room, making my head throb at all the noise. I hurried to grab my seat, bringing it back to my desk.

“I do not need a dead animal in my office,” I yelled once more, not even looking at Sniper when picking up my pen, scribbling down meaningless words on a blank sheet of paper to make myself look busy. “Dispose of it hovever you please—I am busy!”

When the yelling stopped, the birds too calmed down, soft fluttering and cooing echoing within the room. I wrote still as I waited, finally hearing the snapping steps of his shoes walk by. But the click of a door had yet to open, making me stop with my pointless writing altogether as my stare went on Sniper.

“…Sorry,” and that familiar soft tone rang in my ears, the doors swinging closed as he finally left.

…Why did he apologize…

…There was no reason to…

…You cannot act soft around here, Herr Sniper…

…Softness is a weakness…

…You cannot show weakness…

…Weakness will get you harmed…

…Weakness will get you—

Coo~?

My thoughts were taken away, Archimedes sitting right in front of me, tilting his head from side to side. He bumped against my chin, needy for attention when all I did was look at him. That neediness perked a smile on my face, finger rubbing against his small head.

“I apologize if I frightened you,” I whispered gently. “I vould never treat you in ze same vay…”

Lying is a bad habit.

Chapter 5: W E A K N E S S

Chapter Text

“I need to check over some samples to make sure Spy’s condition is stable,” I exclaimed to Misha yet again, finding any reason for him to leave me be—especially at such a late hour. He needs to preserve his energy for the upcoming matches, not to cater to me like a maid.

“Doktor should get some rest, da?” Misha continued to pester. “Work very hard every day! Always in office—never come eat after game anymore.”

“Spy is my most important patient,” yet again, I tried to explain to him, fiddling with my glasses out of annoyance. “I need no more distractions.”

“Hm,” he hummed, still being stubborn but finally coming to the conclusion that his presence was not needed anymore. “Heavy not trouble Doktor no more. Promise good rest!”

“If I can, I vill turn in early.”

Misha held a gentle smile, finally taking his leave. I watched him go, listening to his loud stomps creak against the floor before ceasing altogether.

There were other reasons I wished to be alone… One I was more than happy to let myself get distracted on. I hurried through my cabinets, searching and finding a small bottle of Sildenafil I held for personal use. Age has gotten the better of me, even with Spy's picture to help through my self-indulges.

A part of you to help my growing needs…

Water was not needed, so I threw the pills in my mouth and swallowed in one gulp. And I leaned back in my chair, eyes closed, waiting for the effects to take over. I was being careless, not realizing someone had come in, feeling a sudden tap on my shoulder. My eyes jolted open, hand moving forward and grabbing onto the intruder’s arm. Though, who I ended up grabbing was merely…

“Herr Sniper?”

Sniper seemed surprised the same—he should know better than to sneak up on someone, he deals with it every day! Though, he said nothing for the moment, letting me keep my harsh grip on his arm before I let go. I settled in my chair, just looking at him, wondering why he was here and not even giving me an explanation—

His refill was today.

“Your refill vas today,” I spoke again, remembering how long it had been since I first gave him the medication.

Yes… I have been busy —I am just losing track of the days…

With that realization, I huffed, feeling annoyed now, “Do give me a varning if you plan to come zhis late! Mein Gott...”

Once more, I hurried through my cabinets, locating Sniper's medicine as I handed it over. Sniper carefully took it, mumbling quietly for me to properly hear. With that issue finished, I settled back in my chair, pretending to busy myself by writing scribbles on old notes I was going to throw away for later.

Though, as I wrote, Sniper stayed on the spot, just watching me do this. His presence made me huff, not wanting to give him my attention as I mindlessly continued.

“…Wanted to apologize for last time,” he finally spoke. “‘Bout the bird and for causin’ a scene… Usually save the anger for the enemy, not my own teammates.”

“It is fine, Herr Sniper,” I gave him my recognition for the moment, but still kept my sight away. “You meant vell—unlike us, my birds have a lifespan I must consider zhroughout my vork. Your vorry is appreciated.”

I thought the conversation done, but his presence stayed, and it was not easy for me to ignore with his shadow covering what little light my desk lamp gave.

“…Stuff yah been givin' me is really helpin' out,” he continued. “Be right rude of me to not return the favor in some way—besides cappin’ some extra heads from stabbin’ yer backside.”

“I vould hope ze medication is vorking.”

“Ehah,” a low peep of laughter soon spewed from him. “Not tryin' to knock down yer skills either, Doc.”

“...I vould hope so on zhat as vell.”

A pause.

“…Not many of the other Doctors bothered to give me a hand before,” again he continued. “Caused me some mighty trouble all the time, yeah? Had to relocate every other month because I ended up blowin’ off on some bloke, eha… Been a bad habit lately.”

How long do you plan on staying?!

And more he went on, “—Don't get me started on what was goin' on recently with the defect rifle guns Mann Co. sent out last year. Already had enough blokes houndin' my arse—don't need them to be thinkin' I'm a bloody phony with a handicap.”

And on, “—Naw, I'm a professional! My aims are my own. No fancy gun is makin' the shots for me! Even doin' better these days with someone helpin' my backside like yerself, Doc.”

And on, “—That’s why I’m lookin’ out for yah! Yer never gonna have to worry 'bout that RED arse bastard on the other side blowin' yer head off with me watchin’ yah.”

My pen skidded a large black mark across the paper before abruptly stopping. I finally turned to look at Sniper, that action alone making him finally shut up.

All I simply said was, “And?”

Sniper seemed confused, nervousness showing on his face as he rubbed at his neck.

“Vas there a point in all zhat rambling you just speved?”

That once talkative mouth of his fell silent.

“It is late and I am busy,” I scolded further, getting off my seat and taking a step closer. “Do not believe you can veasel companionship onto me vith your silly jokes and half-hearted compliments. I am not stupid on your motives.”

“I wasn't…” he quietly spoke but didn’t finish.

“Did you not just call yourself some professional? Vhy are you acting like a child vanting praise? Do you not believe I am not prideful in my vork eizher?!” I accused further, getting into his space as he stepped back. “Zhat I just throv pills at my patients and call it a day?!”

“Doc, naw, I never—” he tried to defend himself this time but my voice overcame his.

“My role here is ze most important after all—I get to choose vho lives or dies during ze battling! I hear countless remarks about hov useless your kind is compared to ze rest—vhy should I place so much care onto you vhen zhere are better people to put my focus on?!”

Sniper was stuck on the spot, finding it hard to defend further the more my voice rose and how intrusive I was being in his space.

“Oho, I do greatly appreciate vhat appropriate kindness you have provided! But I also do not zhink such kindness gives you any forgiveness of your past misdeeds! Ve are Doctor and Patient—Covorkers vho vork together killing ozher men! So do not prattle on to me like I am suddenly your friend nov!”

Again, there was no attempt at defending himself, even avoiding eye contact when he had nothing to hide his face away—you should know that is rude, Herr Sniper.

“Look at me,” I snapped, making him flinch but still keeping his sight on the ground. “You are being rude and not looking at me vhen I am speaking—if you vish to hide away, at least have ze courtesy to vear zhose shades of yours!” When I was met with no reply, I further yelled, “Are you going back to staying quiet or are you going to ansver me, Herr Sniper?!”

A stuttering exhale was all I got in return. His breathing is becoming more abnormal actually…

…Are you feeling overwhelmed at the moment, Herr Sniper?

Maybe this is why you rarely speak —you cannot handle a conversation lasting more than a few sentences...

…Perhaps you are scared of me? That I will yell at you further for being such a nuisance?

Fear leads to weakness.

Weakness leads to mistakes.

We cannot be making mistakes here, Herr Sniper.

You must take things seriously.

You know that best .

My hand landed on his jugular, fingers feeling the bump of his adam's apple. Sniper’s head snapped up, frightened, not understanding what I was doing.

He needs to control his breathing better.

“You need to control your breazhing better…”

And I wrapped my fingers as hard as I could, blocking airflow, placing pressure on his larynx.

“It is not good for your heart to be breazhing so heavily—”

The harsh impact of a fist slammed against my abdomen, making me let go and stumble back, holding my stomach to ease my burning nerves. The rushed movements made my glasses fall off my face, clicking against the floor and leaving me almost blind. My head then irked forward, what little I could see through my blurred vision being the sharp brightness of teeth exposing themselves before vanishing altogether.

“Doc!” Sniper said in great panic, coming over, hands on my shoulders to help keep me steady. What expression he held before had changed, now a regretful man worrying over someone who almost choked him. “Doc, I'm sorry—didn't mean to hit ya!”

What are you doing? You are the one who caused this…

Without hesitation, I threw back my own punch, aiming at his most vulnerable spot—his lower pelvic region. And instantly he dropped to his knees, holding himself and coughing intensely in pain, looking as if he wanted to relieve his bladder on the spot.

“If you did not mean it, you vould have not punched me," I scolded coldly, reaching down to grab at his neck again to pull him to his feet. Sniper squirmed about when I forced him backwards, shoes skidding against the hard flooring and nails digging into my arm, trying to stop the pushing by any means. "You must control zhat temper of yours, Herr Sniper... It vill get you harmed…”

Further I pushed him until his back hit my desk, gasping and struggling still amidst my grasp, barely able to keep to his feet the more pressure I placed.

You are stronger than this …

Only when drool started running through the corners of his mouth did I finally lay off the pressure before letting go. His back slid against the desk as his behind hit the floor, heaving out, completely in a daze.

I looked down on him, but was soon hit with overwhelming warmth as my entire being wobbled to keep still, hands landing on my desk to steady myself. My breathing heavied, face flushed with heat, unable to keep my mind in check anymore, filled with troublesome desires I wanted sated.

My sight came upon the picture of Spy... …Vater

And arousal instantly raced through my body, feeling the medicine take its full effect. I did not even think when opening my many drawers, wanting to fulfill my needs right there…

…Wait

I H A V E C O M P A N Y

W̶̹̪͂̾̕E̷͔̽A̷͙̻̓K̶̥͗̒̄N̶̫̎̄͘E̷̜͌̈́̏S̸̪̠̞̅̑S̴͈̜̑̅̋Ẁ̶̡̥̿E̴̙̊̏A̵͙͙̅K̶̫̍͒N̵͇̊Ẽ̸̝͑S̸̞̯̳̾S̶̰̞̍͜W̶̤͐̕͠E̵̡͋̑͐A̷̯͖̎͝Ḵ̸̟̦̽N̷͍͙̔E̴̳̪̻̔Ş̸̹̗́̚S̵͈̩̒̄̈W̴̗̍̓É̶̠͑A̷̧̦͛̾̊K̵͓̂N̵̯̈́́̓È̶̗̯̄S̴̫͓͒̎S̵̻̍Ẃ̸̢̬͑͜E̷̙̮̅͗̇A̴̡̗̰͛K̸̖̗̹̈́̌̕N̴͖͓͆͑͝E̴̟͒S̷̘͋S̸̩̏͑W̵̲̙̊̇È̶̹̤̯̕Ḁ̴̭͐͜K̶̩͖͎̃͛͒N̶̛̥̰͠E̷̱̪̪͗͘S̷̹̬͎̽͝S̵̱̍Ẁ̴͉̽̐Ẹ̵̊A̵͉̿̉͌K̶͚̱̃̉N̵̲̫͊̿E̶͓̊̏S̶̪̱̐̊͘Ś̵̡͍̱͂W̸̠͕̍̇́E̸̯͎̠̽͋Á̵̰͐̅K̷͖̭͑N̷͇̪̑͐̃E̷͙̱̪̊̾͂S̸̜͕̦̈́̎S̷̛̗̭͖̈́̏Ẅ̷̪̘̯́͝Ë̴͖̮̺́̈́͝À̷͕̼̘̀K̴̺̊̉N̶͚̮̍͋̓E̴̱̙͙̽̌͋S̴̺̿͌S̴̙̯͠W̴̰̍͆͋E̴͍̙͠A̶̤͛̀K̴̢͔̍̑̀Ṅ̵͇̗E̵͎̺͌͋̿S̴̛͇S̵̞̫͂͒Ẅ̵̨̟̬Ë̶͕̙̝́Ả̶͉K̵̝̬̈́N̴̡͕͖͂͐͠Ȇ̸̯͝S̵̝͐S̴̙͈̈Ẅ̴̠̱͈͊̃E̴̱̪͌̆͜Ạ̶̮͆͝K̸͙̒̈͛Ň̸͙̣͝È̶͙͚̥S̸̰͖̺͆̍S̴̢͉̆̇͝W̵̛͈͌É̷̠̯̐A̴̜͙̙͑́K̴̪͚͛̈́Ṅ̷̤͇̄E̴͇̾̄̀S̴̙͔̎̎S̶̰̠̽W̶̢̞͓̍E̵͚̕A̷̧͇̅K̷̪̀͠Ṋ̴͊̊Ẽ̵̥S̴̛̬̞̜͐S̷̱͇͊W̶̖͚̞̉̅̌Ȩ̸̖͔̏͐̆A̴͉͎͂͋K̸̝̠̉̊N̷̪̍Ē̵̛̙̐S̵̥̉̑̂Ş̸̮̮̔͌̂Ẃ̸̝E̷̺͋̊͜A̶͐͐͝ͅK̴̲̞̙̊͐N̵͚͌̕Ę̶͈̲̃̌̌S̷͙̤͊ͅS̷͖̞̝͊̏̉W̷͙̼͑̍̓E̶̛̙̳̝͊A̵͙̦̩̓̂̊K̸͔̘͎̇N̵͚̙̝͐E̵̘̙̝̒̈́͐S̷̡͔̜̄̏̿S̶͕̦̔W̶̯̐̆͝Ȅ̷͓͕̜͒̈́A̸̛͕̅K̸̛͓̤͋N̷͕̠͌Ë̵̛̖̗́͋S̶̻̈́S̵͉̣̗̈́Ẁ̷̘͍E̷̝̝̲̔͗͌A̸̼̹̫͊̎̇K̸̼͛͂̐N̶̦̰̻̓̈E̷̛̯̅̈S̵̭͝ͅS̸̢̟̳̎̊̌Ẃ̵̧̜̥͌̉Ę̸́Ȃ̴̫̞K̵͈͗͂N̶͍͙͗͑Ẻ̸̞̳̏S̵͍͓̫͊̑̆S̷͑͐͜Ẁ̶͈̰E̵̮͓͛ͅA̸̛̦͐K̵̜̽ͅN̶̢̠̬̕Ȩ̸̏̐̚S̵̖̼͐S̶̤̔̕͠W̶̧̠̥̒̽̔E̷͔̺̹̽̊̕A̸̞̘̐̒͠K̶̨̩̈́͝N̷̹̱̄̈̒E̶̘̦͎͂̈́Ṣ̸͔̰̈S̶̙̒Ŵ̸͓̱̇̚E̴̪̣͒̍A̵͕̟̚͠͝K̷͙͋̇͐N̴̨̕E̵̢̟͆S̸̜̖̱͌͊̇S̷̱̺̾͐̚E̷̛̯̅̈S̵̭͝ͅS̸̢̟̳̎̊̌Ẃ̵̧̜̥͌̉Ę̸́Ȃ̴̫̞K̵͈͗͂N̶͍͙͗͑Ẻ̸̞̳̏S̵͍͓̫͊̑̆S̷͑͐͜Ẁ̶͈̰E̵̮͓͛ͅA̸̛̦͐K̵̜̽ͅN̶̢̠̬̕Ȩ̸̏̐̚S̵̖̼͐S̶̤̔̕͠W̶̧̠̥̒̽̔E̷͔̺̹̽̊̕A̸̞̘̐̒͠K̶̨̩̈́͝N̷̹̱̄̈̒E̶̘̦͎͂̈́Ṣ̸͔̰̈S̶̙̒

I went through the drawers again, finding and taking both a bottle of lubricant and a small pack of condoms. Then, I slowly made my way where Sniper sat. He said nothing nor noticed much of my presence, still trying to get his thoughts together.

…I started unbuckling his belt.

“...Doc?” Sniper’s voice was hoarse, picking his head up slightly to watch what I was doing. “What are...?”

“Ruhig,” my words came out low and harsh, not wishing to converse properly.

Sniper still did not understand what I was doing, even when I started pulling down his pants to expose more of him below.

You have more self-preservation than this…

“Wait...” There was a pause of doubt, and then a panicked noise spewed up his throat, eyes springing alive. “Wait, what are—!”

My gloved hand smashed against his mouth, pressing hard.

“Halt die Klappe und sei still!”

What little energy he had, he tried to push me away, only able to slightly nudge my shoulder with his elbow. Even with the resistance, I was able to pull off the rest of his pants, exposing himself to me. My hand then went to his redden neck as he choked up, pushing him down so his face hit the floor, rear end higher in the air.

I then snatched off one of my gloves with my teeth, being reckless when grabbing the bottle of lubricant, making the top snap off from my strong grip, the contents spilling all over my hand. The rest I poured onto Sniper’s behind, throwing it aside once empty as it clattered somewhere underneath my desk.

My fingers forced through his rectum, stretching out his tightened insides. His pained groans were being held back by his clenched teeth, face smooshed against the dirty flooring to further drown away the sound. It is nice of him to keep his damned mouth shut but he is not relaxing—my arousal needs to be sated!

The pressure around my fingers clamped ever harder, making it that more difficult to spread them apart. Even the noises Sniper tried holding back were rising, some of his energy returning as one of his arms stretched behind to push at my shoulder.

This is too troublesome...

My tongue clicked, annoyed, pulling my fingers out as forcedly as I pushed them in. His body shuddered, still on his stomach and panting aloud. I soon tore the entire box of condoms open, taking the first colorful wrapper that fell on the ground and tearing the package open with my teeth the same. It was hurried when putting it on—I was wasting enough time as is! And soon I mounted Sniper, positioning my cock near is opening.

“Nha… Doc, Wai...!”

“Halt den Mund!”

I covered his mouth again, forcing myself straight through, his warming flesh spreading apart by my girth alone. A loud snap of bone cracked apart, Sniper's sharp canines biting through the very muscle of my hand, causing blood to spill instantly. The pain barely registered in my head, far too lost in hunger to want anything more than my self-fulfillment sated.

It is better than having him scream…

The feeling is rough, each thrust committed burning against my cock, his body refusing to take me proper. And the more I forced myself in, the more his teeth dug into my flesh, tearing muscle and chipping bone marrow.

“Entspannen,” I seethed, wanting him to relax already.

More blood soaked down my hand, not even feeling pain anymore as the nerves went numb and dead. A different warmth soon hit my groin next, Sniper's body taking as much damage as I was right now.

Ah, he's bleeding...

He will have to live with it just as I—if anything, it will make things go smoother and faster. So, I raised my pace, making an echo of heavy skin connecting to skin. His teeth still gnawed in but did not deepen further, his body starting to slump as I kept a good hold around his stomach.

It is almost done —ENDURE IT.

That welcoming release was boiling below, feeling the nerves of my cock beat in excitement, believing its purpose was being used for more than selfish self-satisfaction.

“Narhhh... Ich bin nah dran...”

Sheathing my cock completely inside, I finally released my fulfillment, filling the condom with warming new life left to die in latex waste. Only a soft shuddered whined came from Sniper, completely stilled, even when I was done moving, now resting on his backside and quietly panting against his ear. Energy from the medicine died, age overtaking its place.

That is fine—it helped when it needed to, now completely satisfied with...

With…

…

…Realization filled my thoughts, quickly pulling out, the bloody-filled condom sliding to my tip before sagging on the floor in a dirty mess. Sniper stayed slumped on the ground, the only signs of his liveliness being the slow rising of his chest and the breathing from his limp mouth.

…That is not good...

Not good... Not good… I just sodomized a man.

There is no excuse for this —nein, what if this spreads to the other men?

That would bring unneeded trouble! No one would trust me anymore —they need to trust me!

Men must trust their Doctor or else lives will be lost!

Nein, nein, I am the most important person on this team!!

My hands were on my head when I broke from my thoughts, sight slowly back on Sniper in a longing stare.

“...Ve should up your dosage,” were the first words to come out from me, forcing a twitchy smile. “An equal exchange… Ja, zhat is vhat zhis vas!” I scooched closer, getting a better look at his tired face, his expression emotionless and buried deep in his own thoughts. “Do you understand, Herr Sniper?” Sniper still said nothing, let alone acknowledge my talking.

And all I could do was laugh away such a sad reaction, “Oho, you… You must be very exhausted!” Carefully, I helped him sit up, hurrying through my pockets to find any type of rag to clean off the blood below. “Oh, such a mess—let me clean you up!”

With little I could do now, Sniper may have to clean for himself later—more time wasted brings unneeded opportunities for others to find out. They would not understand the circumstances—Sniper is simply a sick man, and he needs me! He trusts me—that is why he came here, why he helped sustain my own needs in return!

“I vill help you to zhat campervan of yours, ja?” I hurried saying, looking right at him, wishing for some form of recognition that Sniper understood the same. “I vill help change your clozhes and even tuck you into bed! Zhat's vhat a good Doctor vould do to zheir patient! Ja... Ja, I am here to heal you, Herr Sniper...”

My hands grabbed at Sniper’s face, bringing it closer to mine, wanting to show how happy I was to help him, and to take care of him.

Because I am a good Doctor—a better Doktor than even you, Vater!

“You need me.”

Chapter 6: Exchange

Chapter Text

“Verdammt!“ I swore, the needle's thread hitting a bad nerve on my hand, a small prick of blood spilling along the line. The tiny metal dropped, causing the string to slide with it, further touching soft muscle and sensitive nerve endings. My teeth clenched, taking a harsh inhale through my nose before blowing slowly, making sure to slide the rest of the thread carefully from the wound between my thumb and index finger. Small droplets of my blood made a mess on the desk, wiping what little was left with the dirty rag I was using to clean.

My focus shifted to the open gash on my hand. Respawn was unable to heal it properly, having to manually stitch it to avoid infection or unsightly mutations. What I had sewn so far had opened during the fighting, causing my hand to go numb at very inopportune times. Teeth marks were also noticeable as well, deep, bumpy holes between bits of skin untouched. I have had very little reason to take my gloves off these days...

Such a sad state made me annoyed, deciding to cover it up with some spare medical bandages. It was not the time to be messing with stitching, as I had to check up on the men for the weekly examination.

Coo~?

A flutter of feathers rang next to my ear, Archimedes landing on my shoulder, tilting his head about when looking at my hand.

“Not nov, Archimedes,” I scolded lightly when getting up, heading over to his open cage—Misha never locks it properly anymore. I grabbed him carefully off my shoulder, settling him back inside and snapping the little door shut. He fluttered and cooed all sadly, feeling ignored. “I have men to treat—"

“Howdy, Doc!”

And right on cue, Dell happily showed himself, always the first to come while everyone else was delaying the inevitable.

“Do take vhat you need off, Dell." My fatigue exposed itself when speaking, turning away and hurrying back to my desk, searching through my many cabinets—any form of medication will do, I just need to rid myself of this growing headache.

“Aw, even bein’ casual with me," he gave a hearty laugh, taking off his hardhat and goggles as well as sliding down what he could with his overalls.

“Aus Liebe zu—for once could you put on proper pantvear vhen coming for zhese check-ups,” my annoyance showed, finding and taking the medicine dry right in front of him. And, of course, he laughed it off like everything else, being cheery throughout the examination.

“No issues today," he answered for me once it was finished, throwing the straps of his overalls over his shoulders. Another heavy sigh spewed from my lips, rubbing the bridge of my nose, opening to the sight of Dell’s ungoggled stare straight on me. “Lookin' a bit rough yourself,” he mentioned, pointing at my face. “Sure yah don’t need a check-up instead?”

“…I have ozher men to check, Dell,” I told him, not all too in the mood for conversation.

Thankfully, he got the message, getting to his feet whilst fixing his goggles back on his face. When he was heading out, he suddenly yelped in slight surprise, “Whoa, 'cuse me there, Stretch!”

My head picked up, turning in my seat to get a better view of the door. And it was indeed Sniper, dressed in his usual work attire, unable to get a grasp of his facial expression through those giant tinted glasses.

“Know it’s hard for ya to see me down here from up there,” another spew of laughter made Dell’s stomach bounce.

“Sorry,” Sniper murmured, barely catching what he said to Dell.

“Aw, no big deal!” Dell happily said before waving his goodbyes at both of us. “Best be gettin' outta yer way! Good luck with the Doc—I'll be prayin' for ya!”

Once he left, Sniper and I were alone in that medical room. And he was just standing there.

I phoned a smile and said, "If you can take your zhings off."

Sniper slowly made his way to the medical bed, indeed taking everything needed off. And it went on like any other check-up, quiet in his responses, keeping an emotionless expression throughout. Not even a hint of discomfort was there when touching him.

“Everyzhing seems to be in order,” I clapped, finished, and returned to my desk, actually writing notes I would be keeping for later. “No extra appendages groving anyvhere, sadly. Respavn does vonders, ja? It makes my job far too boring at times vhen zhere is nozhing to cut off.”

Sniper quietly hummed in return, soon listening in on the snapping of small buttons clicking together. My back on him held before turning, the snapping being far too distracting not to watch him redress.

Another snap to his button, and I spoke, “I am surprised zhat you came." His hands stilled, but he said nothing back. “…Zhis early! It is not often you come as early as Herr Engineer nov.” My added admission gave a different reason for my original worry. I do not doubt that that woman knows of what happened, but if no complaints are made, then there is no issue to be fixed. As long as everyone does their job, there should not be any issues with what I… what we decided on.

“Part of the job,” he gave his reply, again being both quiet and dry in his responses as he finished putting the rest of his things in order. “Want to get it done.”

“Ja, ja, you are correct—vhat vas I even saying?” I hurried my agreement with a nod, smiling and laughing. “Best get it done before unneeded appendages start speaking to you, ohoho!”

“Have to do my job," Again, his dryness continued. "No matter what...”

Not even a hint of laughter twitched at the ends of his lips, making me clear my throat, the one feeling awkward now. Silence overwhelmed the room, struggling to get a word in further, only holding my façade of a smile with my hands held together.

“…Doc.”

“Yes, Herr Sniper?”

“I ran out.”

My smile left, and more of that grating silence returned.

"I need to check ze ozher men," my reply was cold, turning around to face my desk so I could finish my writing. "Come back later tonight—ve vill have more privacy zhen.”

The sound of a quiet hum was given, then the soft click of his shoes walked away. The creaking of the medical doors opened, closing shut until nothing but soft cooing hit against my eardrums, bringing back liveliness in the room. My head picked up, once more finding myself in the habit of staring at those doors before feeling a familiar throb in my skull, frustrated with this constant pain not settling.

…

“Mmh... Mn...”

A faint slurping sound echoed underneath my desk, and I felt wet warmth wrap around my growing arousal. Gurgled sounds mixed with the slick popping of saliva against skin, followed by a tired exhale of air. This motion repeated in a very calculated manner—Sniper always seemed like a man to learn new things quickly, even when it comes to something as simple as sucking cock.

My head tilted back in the pleasure, sight coming upon Spy's folder, opened and on the page with his exposed face, imagining what the feel of a more experience man’s lips could do around my cock.

"You can control your biting,” I mindlessly mentioned, taking a peek at Sniper. He seemed to pay no heed to my words when working, taking a small dip before rising again, making his shades slip down the bridge of his nose. The lack of attention made me move a gloved hand downward, caressing it through his greasy hair and making small strands stick a bit to the rubber.

Were you always this unclean? You need to wash yourself better …

That slight pressure made him jerk, but he continued like nothing had changed. Another low breath of air spewed from me the more he worked, taking in the feeling further, arousal overwhelming——

C R A C K

A loud shattering sound suddenly hit the floor, making my head jolt towards the direction of the noise. A mess of white porcelain and various pieces of sliced meat, vegetables, and bread had spilled all over. My sight soon noticed a large pair of boots in front of the mess, eyes wandering upward, finding the large bulky physique of a man in the room with us now.

Misha stood frozen on the spot, expression of utter distraught at the scene he walked in. I did not even have to look at Sniper to know he stilled the same, all movements stopping instantly, warmth still around my cock but afraid to let off.

“…Oh, Misha!” My voice rose, unable to hold back my nervousness when speaking to him. “Ve were just in ze middle of a transaction—pay no heed!” When my sight went back on Sniper, all annoyance and anger exposed itself—why must you worsen things? “Keep sucking," I scolded lowly, placing firm pressure on his head. A harsh gargle vibrated up his throat, and then a heavy exhale of air blew through his nose. He soon adjusted to the pressure, continuing the best he could in this position.

I looked at Misha, my nervous smile and laugh returning, “Oh, steh nicht da—do please clean up your mess! Very unsanitary.”

Misha said nor did nothing at the moment, still in shock. But that shock soon waned, and he indeed knelt, picking up the pieces of soiled food and broken porcelain, being careful not to cut himself on the sharp edges.

Some of my anger dissipated, and that warming ecstasy overwhelmed me. No warning was given, holding my breath in as to not let an indecent noise escape. I heard more gargling below, feeling the slight squeeze of Sniper’s fingers grabbing at my leg. That pleasure of my release was quick to leave, annoyed all over again at the situation.

When the pressure I held left, Sniper was quick to pull off, hand near his mouth and holding his lips tight, threatening to throw up all over my boots.

I offered over, “Here, a vastebasket—”

And instantly, Sniper took the basket, spewing out the liquid amidst his hoarse coughing and choking.

"No need to be so dramatic," I huffed, quick to buckle myself up. As he continued in his puking, I stood and opened one of my many cabinets, easily finding the medication he came for. My arm dipped underneath the desk, shaking the bottle over and simply saying, “Your medicine.”

Sniper took in a heavy breath, a shaking hand reaching forward, taking the medication and holding it tightly. Carefully, he crawled out from underneath the desk, standing to his feet, sight down on the ground, shades barely hanging on the tip of his nose now. Such an annoyance brought my hand forward, making his head rise a bit with a flinch when watching me fix the placement.

Finished, my hands rested behind my back, and I smiled at him, “Go get some sleep, Herr Sniper. Ve have a long battle tomorrov.”

There was another quiet mumble of thanks, rounding around Misha to avoid the mess and taking his slow leave out of the medical room. I watched as the door clicked shut, soon distracted at Misha picking up a wet slice of tomato falling apart in his fingers. Another huff as I grabbed the wastebasket, showing it to him. He exposed slight panic on his face, eyes averting away from looking inside when dumping a handful of the mess.

“…Vhat vas it zhat you needed?" I questioned, trying not to expose my coldness through my façade of curiosity.

Misha paused in his cleaning before quietly speaking, “Heavy brought food.”

“Yes, it seems you did,” I deadpanned, finding the answer obviously boring—he has brought me food every night, how could I have forgotten? “Vell, hov unfortunate you dropped it—you have to be less careless. It vill only cause issues during battle."

“It is late,” he suddenly mentioned. “Doktor should head to bed... work hard.”

That brought a smile back on my face, amused by his worrying.

“I vill get enough rest for ze day, I promise.”

With that talk done and the mess settled, I take the wastebasket, settling it underneath my desk and sitting back in my seat. The first thing I did was take Spy's folder, making sure everything was neatly in place within. It would be idiotic of me to think I could mindlessly go about the rest of my night without worry…

The lack of any loud stomping boots told me enough that Misha was still on the spot.

And thinking.

“…Are you going to report zhis, Misha?” My voice was cold and to the point, curious on what he was thinking, let alone planning on doing now that he found us out. When he had yet to give an excuse, I turned in my chair to get a better look at him. That movement alone made his shoulders jump where he stood, again not wishing to look at me—must everyone around here be so rude?

So, I returned to my feet, walking closer, standing right in front of him now.

“It vill just cause issues for ze team if you do,” I explained nice and slow, wanting him to understand how serious this was for both of us. “Ve cannot let ze performance go astray over… rumors.” My tongue held on that word before continuing, “Ve vork so vell togezher, and it vould be such a shame to have it torn avay by someone you barely knov…”

There was a long pause, waiting to see if he had anything to say. He must know it himself that work is first and foremost—he has far more important things to be worrying about than a stranger.

“...No want to cause trouble for team,” Misha finally gave his answer—a very smart one at that. And in return, I gave him a welcoming smile and a friendly pat on his shoulder. Even then, his expression did not change, finding no comfort in my touch.

“I vill be to bed soon,” I told him, hands resting behind me. “You, hovever, are very past your bedtime."

Misha simply nodded to my words, not even attempting to fight back on staying, slowly making his way towards the medical doors.

“Spokoynoy nochi…” He said his quiet good night, leaving the same.

My smile held as he left, only having it abruptly change into a frown of pain when my hand started to flare. I hurried my glove off, a dark color of red soaking through the bandages, streaks of blood dripping down my arm—scheiße, the stitches broke again!

Chapter 7: Kretin

Chapter Text

If someone saw me in this unprofessional state, they would think of me as crazed. And yet here I was, in the medical office, tossing a ball repeatedly in the air, settled back in my chair with my feet on my desk, absolutely not caring that I was dirtying the surface with my boots. Another catch in midair, stopping to notice another new string falling from the seams.

Such a reminder of its state made me recall events before—the day Spy abruptly left to go on vacation…

—Go fuck yourself, old crud! Scout had shouted, rudely giving Spy the middle finger before stomping down the hallway.

It is rude of me to be so nosy, keeping an eye from afar like I was the one wearing the mask. But recently, Spy has been acting most strange, his low performance out in the field proving my suspicions. I worried that his illness was affecting him, and he was being too stubborn to tell me. Though I ended up finding out something far more interesting, and that was catching him staring at someone else.

The new Scout who transferred not so long ago.

It was a curious case —Spy is a man of many faces, and has met a lot of people during his life of espionage. All the Scouts acted the same, and yet this one caught his attention more than the old one. Very much so as he even slipped up on something as minor as checking a few files—a simple misplacement of folders, one I would not recklessly do.

Even with the little knowledge I presumed, I did not know the true answer to his frantic snooping. And I confess, I did not want to anger him if this matter was too personal to speak with.

Some secrets were best kept quiet…

Spy walked where the ball had stopped, hunching down to grab it. He gave it a little squeeze, staring quietly at it for some time before cursing aloud, tossing the ball away and making his leave down the hallway in the same direction. I felt like I came upon a scene I was not meant to witness, but if they wish to keep their fighting private, they would have done it in a place where no man could easily walk on by to listen.

I looked to where the ball had been tossed aside, having rolled underneath some old abandoned crates. And yet I still went over, getting on my knees to grab the filthy thing. It was troublesome, but eventually my fingers inched it closer to my side, rolling it until it hit against my knee. I held it tightly in my hand, looking over the object, finding it already falling apart as the red stitches —

Thump

My thoughts returned when I missed a catch, the ball hitting the table instead and causing a small container of pencils to fall to its side. I looked at the mess, not all in the mood to fix it, instead going to grab the ball before it rolled off the table. And like Spy before, I ended up staring at it. Worn from age, falling apart at the seams…

…It bored me.

And I threw the tattered thing into a cabinet filled with other forgotten miscellaneous things.

When Spy was around, my work had doubled. But without, the days have been dreadfully slow—it is hard to check on his stability without a body to look over. He did not have the courtesy to tell me of his leave until the last moment! For all I know, he has dropped dead on his pillow, and there is nothing for me to do but sulk in my failure.

Such an annoying thought got my feet off the desk and my body off the chair. I needed out of this office for once, to fill my ears with noise that did not consist of chirping and fluttering.

Admissions had stationed us in quite a run-down place, having to watch my step from below whilst checking up at the ceiling in case it decided to collapse in on itself. One would think it would be abandoned if fresh bullet holes in the walls did not give away recent activity. The holes themselves were the only form of light in these depressing corridors.

Amidst my careful walking, my ears caught wind of a string of voices ahead.

“Think ya had a bit too much, mate,” one said, deep in tone and rough around the edges. It even had some emotion in it that I had forgotten, remembering who the man was once I saw the shine of bright orange against my glasses.

“Oohhh… Think I gotta agree with ye,” Demoman slurred, slumped against Sniper’s shoulder as the two of them walked down the hallway, not seeming to notice my presence as of yet. “Spah sure can stress a bloke! Just standin’ ‘round doin’ nothin’ is enough to make a fella drink another, eha”

The mention of Spy brought my complete attention to them, keeping up appearance when approaching.

Sniper clicked his tongue, expressing himself with a bit of anger in his tone, “Arse been gettin’ on my nerves—"

“Overindulging again, Herr Demoman?” My sudden barge into the conversation made Sniper shut his mouth completely, stopping on the spot, making Demoman wobble a bit from the suddenness. His confusion turned to realization when he spotted me, his goofy drunken smile showing itself fully.

“Ay, Doc~~!” Demoman happily waved an empty bottle over, putting weight on Sniper as he did this. “Went a wee bit over my usual six-pack—can’t keep meself straight.” He did a light smack to Sniper’s chest, laughing. “Sniper’s become a good ol’ drinkin’ pally here of mine! Ain’tcha.”

“Oh… you tvo vere drinking?” I questioned, sight coming upon Sniper, getting no recognition back as he hid within himself.

You should not be drinking… You will cause more problems for yourself…

Sniper got another friendly smack from Demoman, the man feeling ignored and asking again, “Ain’t that right?” Sniper gave him a simple slow nod in return. That seemed enough for the drunken fool as he laughed and smacked his empty bottle against his lips, greeted with disappointment when nothing came out.

“Demoman,” I spoke, getting at least half his attention back on me. “I do apologize if I am intruding and you tvos fun, but can allov me to steal Sniper from you? I vish to talk vith him privately.”

There was a bit of curiosity shown in his drunken state, but understanding enough not to think too hard on the reason.

“No problem—know ye wouldn’t be asking without good reason!” He wobbled off, smacking one last hand on Sniper's shoulder to try to get another word in. "See ye when ye in the mood for more drinkin', a'right?" Done, he stumbled away, unsure where he himself was going. As he turned the corner and left our view, my sight came upon Sniper.

“…You vere drinking?” My accusation was forward and to the point. And I was also given a mere shrug in return. His sheepishness only further annoyed me, approaching closer into his space, making him jerk his head my way. “You knov you should avoid alcohol vhen on medication—do not play dumb eizher and say you forgot!”

He was unable to get a word, acting like a scared knowing child who did something bad. At least he understood his wrong—enabling an addiction with small pleasures of the day brings no improvements! None of these men here are worth speaking to, let alone indulge with in pointless games. He made his place here with his profession alone.

When I had yet to get any sort of response, I sighed, all disappointed when taking a step back—

“I won’t let it happen again,” Sniper suddenly blurted, causing me to stop mid-step. He exposed himself, slight panic in his voice and a rise in his chest. “Promise yah, I won’t go off drinkin’ again.”

His change of emotion was truly a wild one, but getting a proper response for once was enough for me not to dwell on it. And I gave him a simple fake smile of praise, giving space between us. That settled him down, spewing one last nervous breath before returning to his usually emotionless self.

“By ze vay,” I began, holding my smile. His head picked up, showing a hint of curiosity in his tired eyes. “Vhat vere you tvo talking about before? Demoman mentioned Herr Spy.”

Sniper fidgeted with his hat and gave an honest and forward answer, “Spook came back.”

“Er ist zurück?!” I ended up dropping the charade, exposing myself now when getting into his space. “Vhen? Vhen did he come back?”

“Er,” he stumbled, trying to find the words. “Hour or so ago? Thinkin’ he went to his room—”

That got me huffing, walking past Sniper, and hurrying my way down the hallway. “He needed to come to me first! Dummer Idiot!” I said aloud amidst my irk of annoyance.

How could one man be so troublesome! Going off without me knowing, acting strange around new blood, not even coming to me first and foremost to check over his degrading health. I have yet to get him to drop his terrible smoking habit, no matter how many times I demanded that he stop! Maybe my kindness is going too far with him—I will have to be stricter if he continues to act less than a gentleman.

My inner rambling finished when I reached the corridor of the bedrooms, stopping at Spy’s door. I took in a deep, calming breath. And I rolled a hand over to knock—

T H U D

A sudden slam against the wall made me halt in place, stilling my hand. Semblances of voices yelled from the other side, barely able to understand from this distance as I came closer, ear pressed against the wall.

“—please—your actions!” The voice was still muffled, only getting bits of what they were trying to say. Spy was obvious, but the other was not so much. The arguing went on. Then a lovely noise pierced through the wall and into my ears.

…A h h h h h h…

…My heart is pumping…

…Unable to move…

…Handled by another…

…Acting so weak, away from prying eyes…

…Behind closed doors…

…Behind my very own eyes…

…A secret best kept quiet—

An abrupt click of a door opening brought me out of my daze, soon tackled by a young man not looking where he was running towards.

“Vas zur Hölle—?” I yelped, falling back with Scout as we entangled with one another. The impact pained my backside, fixing the slight skew of my glasses as I pushed him off. At that moment, I felt like I needed to excuse myself from this sudden predicament. And it was easy enough to play the part, yelling with great anger, “Herr Scout, vhat have I told you about running in ze halls?!”

Scout was in great panic, not even taking notice of my presence before jumping to his feet, running in the opposite direction and leaving my sight in a single blink.

I patted my coat down when standing, muttering a vulgar threat, soon taking notice of the open door. Spy stumbled and hit against it, hand on the handle. His head snapped at my presence. Just one look of him told enough—his heavy breathing, the slight skew of his tie. He was exposing himself even through the mask, like he had committed something very terribly wrong.

…Why was Herr Scout in his room?

Why was he in your room, Vater?

My head slowly turned down the hallway, then back on him. “Herr Spy?” I began, showing honest worry in my tone. “Vhat vas—?”

“Just a minor argument—do not worry yourself!”

Just a minor argument—do not worry, Mein kleiner Vogel.

Those were the only words I caught before Spy slammed his door right in front of my face, leaving me alone on the other side...

.....

…How can you say that when you look so disheveled?

You are supposed to trust me the most…

I am your Doctor, and you are acting so strange around that…!

…That Kretin.

Are you that enthralled by a pretty face and a youthful physique?

No… You would have gone for our last one before him…

That Kretin is different —you are just making it harder for me by not saying why.

How vile of a gentleman you are... Lying to me when it was not even needed…

Never given recognition anymore…

Never given trust anymore…

Never given your g̶̅͜e̵̳̅n̷̺̄ṭ̸͗l̸̼͋e̷̘̾ ̵̫̄t̵̗́o̵̥͛ū̶̧c̵̩̓ȟ̸̺—̵̗̈́—̷̜͛

—Oie, Doc!”

My thoughts were taken from me when I heard Sniper’s voice again, realizing that I had mindlessly walked off to a different corridor of the base. Such careless walking made me stumble on my next step, not noticing a loose board in the flooring. Sniper had caught an arm around my stomach, keeping me on my feet. There was a pause in everything going on, sight kept on the ground before looking at Sniper, finding him just as surprised in our quiet sstaring.

Realizing what had happened, I pushed off Sniper, fixing the slight skew of my glasses and finding the need to wipe down my coat.

Once again, I accused him of doing something wrong, “Vhat are you doing following me?”

“Naw, I heard yellin’,” Sniper was quick to excuse himself… but I suppose Scout and I did make quite a scuffle, making what he said be an honest answer. He then stopped, not wanting to continue, hiding his expression away with the brim of his hat.

“Ja?” I spoke, eager to hear what else he wanted to say. "Do not stop mid-sentence—vhat is it?”

Another pause.

“Doc,” Sniper began, weirdly sincere in his tone now. “Yah a’right? You were…”

And yet again, he stopped.

This useless conversation just made a headache beat through my skull. “Yes, yes, I am fine—you knov vhen to come to me if you need anyzhing!" My patience was spent, not wanting to stand about as I rudely pushed through him, trying to find the right direction back to my office.

There are things I need to figure out now, ones that do not involve a desperate drug addict at the moment.

…This headache will not go away!

Chapter 8: [Negative]/Positive

Chapter Text

My fingers gracefully tapped upon the notes of the piano, its gentle tones circling around the entertainment room. This motion was played on repeat, wanting to perfect my favorite sheet. I only stopped when numbness took over, feeling my fingers still on the spot, unable to move. The frustration made my hands go into fists, knowing better than to harm the Piano as they smacked against my knees instead, showing faint reddish marks against my pale skin.

I glanced at a small table next to the piano, a small plate of leftover cold tea and half-eaten kommissbrot was settled on top. I never enjoyed the bread, but the tea always had a pinch of honey and cinnamon in the mix. When I went to pick up the cup, the ooze of the honey had drifted to the bottom, leaving a clear orange hue in the mix of dirty brown.

A click of the door opening made me place the cup down, watching as a young maid came inside, expressing a gentle and warm smile at me.

"Parden my intrusion, but denner will be reade shortly," she said with a bow, her accent noticeable of someone not from around. When I looked at the clock on the wall, the time was indeed close to dinner. Which meant Vater was finished with his own work.

“I am going to tell Vater,” I said aloud, hopping off the piano seat and rushing past her.

“Young monsieur, he has a guest!” She called out as I ignored her, already out of the room and heading down the stairway, walking in a pace that I could easily be scolded for.

My excitement might have gotten the better of me, not noticing the door to Vater's room opening suddenly, crashing into a stranger coming out. The impact made me fall backwards with a grunt, hand on my face, realizing my glasses had fallen off. I tapped around the floor, looking for them, not wishing to lose or break such an expensive thing.

“Oho, someone is in a hurry,” a deep voice bellowed in front of me, hearing a small ting of metal clicking together as I squinted forward. There was a blur of complete blackness in front of me, only able to get a grasp on their glove, holding out my glasses. Carefully, I take my glasses without a word, placing them back on my face and getting a better look at the person.

A sharply dressed man in black was kneeling, not too different from Vater in appearance—slick, groomed hair, clean shave, old age showing through his tired blue eyes. Modeled like many of those other men I have seen on the streets…

…Yes, Vater’s friend was visiting again.

The man’s smile held, waiting for me to take his hand. I stood on my own, brushing at my knees instead. Even with my rudeness, he just chuckled and stood the same, proud in his stance, his taller height looming over me.

“Ludwig!” Vater's voice yelled suddenly, making my shoulders jump in a panic. Never did he use my name unless I did something bad. He appeared next to the man, looking very upset at me. “Show a bit of respect around guests,” he scolded.

My head dipped down, hands behind my back to fidget with my fingers. "Sorry,” And quietly I gave my apology.

There was quick, sudden tapping from behind, the maid appearing before us, stopping with a light breath. She was about to speak, shut-lipped and expressing a bit of fright on her face at Vater’s friend. She did a quick check over her clothing, bowing at us.

“ Excusez-moi! I did not watch the young monsieur better,” she apologized greatly to the two men, holding in her bow as she waited for forgiveness.

Vater heaved a sigh, just more frustrated. But his friend gave him a comforting pat on his shoulder, and the two of them moved closer together.

“Formal as ever, Herbert!” The man laughed and waved away the offense, far from offended at all. “We are equals here in your humble home, no need for such worry.”

The maid stood straight, breathing out her worries when hearing that. Though Vater seemed unchanged, ashamed to even look at me now, and I did not understand why.

“Was I interrupting dinner?” The man then asked Vater, a slight tilt to his head.

“No, no, of course not,” Vater hurried a reply, forcing a smile on his face. “I was going to offer your stay here, actually.” He gave a glance at the maid. Then, I felt a rough grip on my hand, being taken by her.

“Vater—?”

Another bellowing of laughter overcame everything, the man's cheerful grin widening as he squeezed Vater ever so closely.

“An offer? Why, how could I say no to you, old f̸r̴i̴e̴n̴d̴̷̵̟͓͛͘—̴̴̸̮̦̒̈—̸̵̴̯̈́

— ̸ ̩̄

—Nn…!”

The sudden noise snapped me out of my daze, reminding me what I was doing.

Yes… I was in my office—it was the weekly examination and I was taking blood…

That realization made me look in front of me, seeing Sniper gritting his teeth in slight pain. My sight slowly went on my hand, holding a syringe, a long needle piercing a spot on his arm, the slight opening causing far more blood to spill than usual.

“Oh…” I said a bit slowly, watching the fresh blood run down his skin. “Oh, I do apologize!” Again, I speak up with a bit of worry in my voice, realizing my major slip-up. I carefully take the needle out, looking at my tray of medical products next to me, grabbing an antiseptic spray and a clean rag. There was another soft grunt when spraying the liquid, but no complaint was made when wiping the blood.

Such a mess—this was not even necessary for Sniper! Everyone was getting this same treatment, less bothersome questions came my way—I did not need to repeat the same boring excuse for each. All the blood I needed was just Spy’s and Scout’s.

No more pained noises spewed from him, now watching in silence as I cleaned my mistake. I expected some form of joke or even complaint, but nothing came from him. Another soft brush with the rag, able to calm the bleeding and left only a small reddish prick. And with everything done, the two of us continued in that silence—far am I in the mood to try again on a meaningless task.

This constant spur of his silence always grated at me, my sight back at the tray, looking at a particular item amidst the rest.

“…Vould,” I started, but paused. “Vould you like a band-aid?” I asked, showing off a childish package of band-aids, the front colored in pastel pinks and blues with cute animals, bright stars, and rainbows. “It is not vhat I vould typically order—it is for Pyro, you see. Quite a childish zhing, ja?” For some reason, I felt as if I needed to explain myself, getting a bored blink back from Sniper, a subtle semblance of confusion showing on his usually tired face.

I insisted further, opening it and rummaging through, taking out a colorful pink one covered in Balloonicorns. I grabbed his arm, dressing the simple piece of adhesive over the tiny mistake. Once done, I let go, quite happy with the job well done. Yet, still, I got nothing in return but a very confused man staring at the bright pink on his arm.

The… unique moment was interrupted, sudden screaming picking up in our ears as we looked at the medical doors. Its volume rose in pace with a low thumping of boots. And before long, the screechy noise echoed within the office, frightening even the birds within their cages with its squeaky, horrendous sound.

“I hate needles—I hate needles—I hate needles!!” Scout cried, flailing about on Misha’s shoulder and kicking his backside.

“Little man very nosy," Heavy deadpanned, unaffected with Scout elbowing him right in the cheek, making the flesh smoosh up.

Misha and Sniper glanced at one another. That simple, silent glance was enough for Sniper to get up from the bed, hurrying his vest properly before tipping his hat down when walking by Misha.

“Hey!” Scout was happy to break the unknowing tension, trying to turn his head back to get a better look at Sniper. A hand smacked against the back of Misha’s head, slightly inching it down. “Hey, don’t run away, longlegs! C’mon, help me out here ya coward!” His cries were ignored, left to watch the doors close right in front of his face.

Scout’s further frantic kicking and abuse made Misha's brows furrow, grumbling a noise of frustration. He gave the little annoyance a rough shake on his shoulder before coming over and dropping him on the medical stretcher.

“Break legs if little man run," he threatened, far in the mood for any more games. Scout was more than happy to take Misha’s word, chuckling all worriedly before crossing his arms, moping like a child.

I take in some air, readjusting the stethoscope around my neck from one ear to the next. “Ahem, shall you take off your shirt?”

Scout cringed at my words, but did as he was asked, sliding off his coat and shirt hidden underneath. His youth showed greatly compared to the rest—very little scarring, bare of any hair, and subtle muscles against his thin chest. He has many years to harden into a proper man—hopefully his attitude changes for the better by then.

When pressing the metal on his chest, I listened in on the beating of his heart…

BA-BUMP-BUMP

BUMP-BUMP-BA

BUMP-BUMP

“Blood pressure is a bit high, Herr Scout,” I mentioned, finding his pulse beating faster than usual.

There was slight panic on his face, quick to place blame on others, “Ye—Yeah, gonna happen when some big bald dude is kidnappin’ ya.”

“Heavy no kidnap,” Misha defended, standing near the doors now with his arms crossed. “Brought Scout where he needed to be.”

I thought nothing of it at first, taking the stethoscope out from my ears and turning to my tray of medical necessities.

"High or not,” I continued, grabbing a new needle, flicking at the metal line as slight water gushed from the tip. “I need a blood sample from you—orders from ze Administrator," I repeated the lie.

Of course, Scout exposed his panic. He was quick to realize his position when hearing the low grumble of Misha from a few feet away. He shakily held his arm for me, eyes winced closed with a cowardly sniffle to the nose. And I take it, fingers pressing gently on the flesh, finding the right spot as I started my insertion.

Scout had stopped being so overly dramatic when I started, but that gave notice to his strangely flustered look on his face, fidgeting a bit in his seat like he was hiding something. Far has his embarrassments shown before—when they did, he would usually hide them within self-praises and useless gabber.

“…Vere you busy vith somezhing, Herr Scout?” I questioned further, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Huh? Errr,” he fumbled an excuse, trying not to look at the needle penetrating his arm.

“Scout no leave room,” Misha admitted. “Was gonna break the door, but did not. Spy came. Said he would help—"

Instantly, the gentle pressure I held on the needle slipped.

“GAHHHH, WHAT THE FUCK!!?” And of course, Scout started screaming.

Misha came over, a little slow in understanding what had just happened. “Scout okay—?”

“I’M FREAKIN’ HURTIN’ HERE DUMBASS!!”

My reaction as well was a bit slow, looking stupidly at the streak of blood falling down Scout's arm… Oh, it seems that I have punctured the needle straight through. I simply watched the blood, not doing anything amidst his pained screaming.

Then I just shrugged my hands up and went, “Voopsie!”

“DON’T FUCKING VOOPSIE ME, TAKE IT OUT!!”

The response got me to huff, finally taking the needle from the handle. The boy did not make it easy with his thrashing, having to pull it out with reckless haste, more of his blood gushing outward in spurts. A sudden splatter of blood blinded my glasses amidst the pulling, and I saw only bright red across my eyes. A noise of annoyance rose in my throat, wiping the blood away, leaving smudges that blurred my vision now.

“Misha, keep him dovn vhile I get a nev syringe… And some clean rags,” I said, careful in my steps when heading towards my desk.

The loud sounds of gasping and thrashing were heard behind. Misha tried to settle the annoyance from painting the entire place in red.

"Just a little boo-boo, Scout! Doktor will be right back!"

That little mistake caused a great mess for some time, but Misha and I both were able to wrestle the troublesome little pain in place so I could properly take his blood.

The syringe of Scout's blood was poured carefully into the vial, showing a darkish color of red within. It settled nicely on the rack next to Spy’s vial, labeled and proper to be used for later. When I turned to the medical bed, Scout had finally passed out, body completely shut down from the massive amount of blood lost—some sleep could do the boy good.

“Little man hassle," Misha admitted, if quietly, as not to wake Scout up. He wiped away some blood on his face, having to deal with the bright shade of red over his work shirt now. “No needles again.” His large arms wrapped around the boy’s body, carrying him like a newlywed bride.

“I vill make a note zhat restraints are recommended for him, oho,” I said, letting a little laugh escape. “Nov, can you please take ze annoyance to his room? I vould like to get some vork done in peace.” Another huff from me when my sight came upon two vials, almost entranced at the sight.

“…Doktor—”

When Misha had yet to leave, I turned, raising my voice and scolding, “Do I need to repeat myself?”

He simply frowned, looking at Scout before nodding quietly, finally taking the boy away and leaving the room.

I watched, sight soon upon the hanging phone on the wall before returning to the vials again.

…I should make a call if the results come up negative.

Chapter 9: Schadenfreude

Chapter Text

Warm desert air blasted against my face, watching as the endless sea of brown and yellow sand blew past my eyes. Sometimes, life was given in rare sights of bright green from cactuses. And even rarer sites gave the colors of dark crimson red from rotten corpses being feasted upon by the various wildlife. The only other color shown was the blunt pop of purple in front, and I had no interest in staring at that.

When I made the call, I was not expecting a sudden visit from Miss Pauling the next morning, quite in a frizzled mess when coming to wake me, only to find that I was already awake and eating on a sandvich most casually. She had a motor helmet crooked on her head, slipping off before she held it back in place. And when she stumbled over, she held a similar helmet for me to take.

A morning motorcycle ride would be considered romantic for some, even if our positions were backwards, keeping a light hold around Miss Pauling's stomach when driving me to this so-called off-site destination she mentioned before. When making the call, I expected a call in return and not… whatever Miss Pauling was asked to do in her short time. Either way, I will play along like I always did with Helen.

The catch of grey hit my eye when we finally made it to the rotted building, old and run down, nothing more than a storage area of things to rust away and be forgotten. Miss Pauling stopped her motorcycle in front of the large metal entrance, clicking off her helmet and sliding away a bit of hair covering her forehead.

“We’re here,” Miss Pauling happily said, locking the vehicle in place when getting off. I too did the same, taking the helmet and placing it on the backseat for later. “They sure like to work me to death with these sudden requests,” she rambled a bit, walking her way as I followed. Around the corner of the building was a door, less secure and fragile compared to the front. “Right inside,” she presented over, waiting for me to open it.

I only stood, then pointed a gloved finger outward, “Inside here?”

“Yes!”

Her forced optimism was not helping the mood, shaking my head and denying, “I do not plan on being murdered in some abandoned varehouse—”

That made her realize the situation, gasping a noise, “No, no, no, no, nothing like that!” Miss Pauling waved in a panic. “The administrator wouldn’t just ask me to kill you like this anyway—far too many opportunities for witnesses on the drive here—It’ll just be more busy work on having to kill them and…” She stopped, just worsening things more with her yapping before coming to the door herself and opening it. “Here, I’ll just—I’ll just open the door now.”

Despite all the warning signs, I walked forward, taking a look inside. It was quite an empty room with no windows, big enough to be an office space of sorts. Nothing but a single table was in the middle with a lamp settled on it, giving a bit of light in the room. That light exposed a big black microphone box next to it, intimidating with its presence with how fancy it looked compared to the rest of the room. Oh, there was also a seat sitting in front of the table—I suppose that seat was for me. So, I made my way in, adjusting my coat when sitting, hands patiently on my lap, waiting for the speaker to buzz out any sort of noise.

<<Excuse the awkward set-up,>> a low tone of a woman came through, scratchy and shrill. A voice of a person who smoked far longer than any normal human could withstand. <<I am far too busy for a facial confrontation, and this is the best we could offer for privacy at the moment.>>

There was a sudden pause, becoming a bit annoyed on why she was taking so long to continue.

<<Girl, leave!>> Helen’s voice boomed with anger, making the microphone and table itself shake from the volume. I was quite surprised, looking back at Miss Pauling, standing awkwardly near the open door, smacking her hand against the frame, trying to grab the handle without looking.

“Right, yes, of course—sorry ma'am!” She almost tripped when leaving, head poking out from the door with an awkward smile. “Excuse me~”

Complete darkness now overcame the room, the beam of light the lamp gave giving the smallest source of life now.

<<There are smokes in the drawer,>> the speaker buzzed again. The table did indeed have a thin drawer in the front, a smidgen open to show something within.

“I do not smoke,” I declined firmly, far from amused with all of this silliness when a simple callback would have been more tolerable.

A small beat of laughter came through before the sizzle of nicotine spewed.

<<Such a terrible liar… You at least enjoy the smell,>> she said a bit mindlessly before her harsh tone returned. <<You are lucky to be given even a second of my time, Mr.Ludwig. Do not waste such rare opportunities when arrangements were so gracefully made for your comfort.>>

I almost scuffed at that but stopped, not wishing to let my emotion be known this early, even in front of a damned microphone of all things.

“Zhere vas… somezhing I vished affirmed,” my words sadly stumbled anyway.

<<Just get to the point of your pestering,>> the sound of smoke sizzled heftily against the mic again, then a popping of another suck spewed through the speakers.

I take in a slow breath, and ask properly this time, “Zhis transfer of ze recent Scout on my team. It vas not a simple misprint in ze paper, vas it?”

Silence.

When no reply was given, I continued, “Seems like such ze hassle in papervork for a boy vhose skills are… greatly exaggerated.”

Another soft sizzle, as well as another pop.

<<Indulge with me, Mr.Ludwig. Like you have much of a choice—why do I ever even ask,>> a chuckle escaped through her blowing, hearing ash shuffle about before a soft sizzle of fire dissipated. A creaking sound of a chair moved, and she started telling me, <<There was this foolish young man with great potential. Quite the womanizer, but plenty skilled for his age. With proper correction, he could have been trained for the greatest things far beyond his profession. We keep a close eye on men with potential…>>

Another pause.

<<But failures do not abide by rules.>> Spite rose in her tone. <<Cut down in his prime when there was no reason for such brutality. Over pettiness at that.>> Then a scuff of annoyance spewed, not afraid to expose her anger. <<I do not like property thrown away like garbage, Mr.Ludwig. Utter waste of life and time…>>

“You are avoiding my question,” my words came out cold, absolutely not caring about this little story she was giving.

<<Oho, I am?>> She cackled back nonetheless, making her chair creak again. <<What fun does a mystery bring if just given an answer? Besides, did you not already quell your curiosity,>> she admitted, knowing full well of my actions yesterday. <<Or are you that desperate for me to say it was indeed false instead?>>

“Zhat is not—zhis has nozhing to do vith…!” My voice rose, stopping before making a fool of myself further. Yes, I did not like the answer… Even now, I still do not like the answer as it only confused me. It made no sense why this Kretin seemed to be special when he was no different from the rest. And, strangely, it would be honestly more understandable if they were—

<<Those gentlemen are trained quite young,>> she started once more, bringing my attention to the microphone box. <<Weak, hungry, abandoned by society, left to rot and be used by anyone willing to take them. Many don’t make it through the initial training. And some mistakes slip through the cracks… Like ours at the moment.>> A harsh spit of disgust, lacking joy in her usually vile tone. <<Your patient is far from the gentleman he likes to believe himself to be. Especially considering how he is around that young man.>>

Then the boy is more than the results say…

Another curiosity was brought to my attention, asking simply, “Are you not the least bit vorried about zheir relationship affecting performance?”

A questioning huff was given in return, <<If it comes to that, I will put aside my amusement and disband this entire team elsewhere. I heard they're looking for more mercenaries in Teufort.>>

I spat, “Das ist nicht lustig.”

And all she did was hackle back in another one of her horrid fits of laughter.

<<…I gave you this corpse so you’d keep him alive, not to get into personal business you were never supposed to know.>> That harsh tone returned, far from amused anymore. <<You cannot start caring about morality now—it is not in your character, Mr.Ludwig.>>

My gloves squeaked.

If the circumstances were different, I might have well abandoned everything on the spot, knowing I was just some pawn in this little game of hers. No… I cannot. This has become personal for me—Spy is my most important patient, and I cannot abandon him over my own foolish emotions. Nor from this woman or that damned Kretin.

“I vill do everyzhing in my power to keep Herr Spy alive. Zhis problematic Kretin vill not stop me on my goals,” my words flowed like a dulled script, trying to hold in my anger.

A hum buzzed through, and she simply said, “It is nice to see you learned from your Father's mistakes—”

“Wagen Sie es nicht, schlecht über ihn zu reden!”

The table itself shook as my hands smacked upon the top. My emotions exposed so easily with a simple set of words—utterly shameful. I sat back down, my stare on the thin open drawer in front of me. And I opened it wider, finding a package of cigarettes next to a metal lighter.

<<I have been in this line of work for a very long time, Mr.Ludwig,>> Helen started once more, taking in her words and sucking in the nicotine. <<Even before you were a mere fetus in the womb. Information is never an issue—men and women I hire have every single detail displayed to me at the snap of the finger, more so than you would believe… Without me, you would not even hold this dead title of yours.>>

My fingers smooshed against the paper of the cigarette, small bits of the nicotine spilling upon my lap.

<<You were given a second chance. So kindly do your job like I asked, der Doktor.>>

“Zhis conversation is over,” I grew tired of both her and the cigarette, smooshing the nicotine into the table before getting up.

<<I have not turned a blind eye to your other misdeeds either, Mr.Ludwig.>>

Her sudden comment made me stop, the itching feeling of the bandages around my hand becoming noticeable.

Skin against thread.

Clinging together.

Unable to heal.

Nerve endings and muscles torn.

A deep, singular bite.

Like an animal.

Hungry.

Terrified.

<<Schadenfreude,>> another awful cackle. <<The misfortune of others can be quite amusing—>>

I did not care to listen any further, hurrying my way and opening the door quite fiercely, smacking into something on the other end. A squeaky yelp came below, looking down at quite the shameless display of Miss Pauling on the ground, clipboard smacked against her face. She groaned in pain, wobbling to her feet, rubbing at the newly reddish mark on her forehead before adjusting her glasses straight.

“Guess you’re done now, aha,” she laughed away the pain, still rubbing. “I mean, you’re out here now means you two are done talking—”

“Yes, ve are done,” I finished for her before walking towards the motorcycle, wanting to keep this place abandoned and forgotten like many others have before me.

Chapter 10: Tea

Chapter Text

I am annoyed.

Annoyed at myself, annoyed with Spy, annoyed with this blasted heat. Letting my emotions slip so easily—wanting an answer only to be given more lies in return. It was to be a simple check—a simple talk—a simple question that could have been asked more professionally and not spouted so emotionally.

And yet Spy still admitted…

—Fine, perhaps we may have some relation

Do not speak such nonsense when I cannot even keep myself in check!

“Tea, Doktor?”

My thoughts were taken away, startled by a sudden click of tea being settled right in front of me on the table. The noise of the other men caught my attention as well, chattering and laughing within the commons. Yes, new contracts were being given out… I went to sit down because the heat of this place was throbbing another headache in my skull. When I picked my head up to see who had brought such a drink, it was far from a surprise to find that it was Misha and his insistent coddling.

“Bring me somzhing colder,” my ask was more of a grumbling demand, far in the mood for talk as I rubbed at my face.

Misha put on a cheery smile, happy to comply as he hurried off to the kitchen area, leaving the noises of the room to keep me occupied. One particular pair gained my attention the most, seeing Spy and that Kretin together, not even being subtle in their conversation. A light scold, a fixing of posture, and then a flattening of hair before he was shooed off towards the direction where Miss Pauling and Pyro were chattering about.

Those damned smiles both of them had throughout… So disgustingly casual, so—!

“Heavy brought water,” Misha once again interrupted my thoughts, placing a small plastic cup of water on the table next to the tea. He then sat down next to me, watching closely like I was going to just let it sit there and not drink it.

“…Danke,” I gave my thanks nonetheless, not even looking when picking up the cup. My first sip completely spewed back out, coughing and gasping at the awful chunky taste it held. “Mein Gott, vhere did you get zhis sevage?!”

Misha blinked and said, “Heavy got water from sink.”

And immediately, I spat into the cup again, picking up the tea to help drown out the unfiltered lead in my saliva. That also got me to spew, realizing that it also had bits of lead chunks within. A small peep of laughter rang from the other end of the table, taking notice of Sniper’s not so quiet presence. He picked his head up, a jolt of surprise in his shoulders when he noticed my loathly expression back, shielding himself within his hat.

“I heard the Doc speak non-American words,” Soldier proclaimed his presence, hands smacking on the table, eyeing each one of us past his hard hat. “What is wrong with the water—is it poisoned?!”

“Here, take it,” I shoved the cup of water into his chest, wanting nothing of the filth. He tilted his hat up a bit to look at the cup, then gave it a sniff. And with four seconds of thinking, he began guzzling down the rest of the contaminated liquid, providing our ears a nice crunching bite into the leftover lead still in his mouth.

“Taste safe to me,” he said with a satisfied gulp, finished by crushing the cup in his hand before placing it back on the table. “You have permission to drink as much water as you want, Doc—!”

Soldier barely finished when a loud thud and shriek consumed even his voice, breaking our conversation as everyone’s attention was now on the noise. It was quite a sight, Scout crowding Miss Pauling into a corner, his hand gripped tightly around her thin arm.

“—I just wanna get to know—!” Scout was in the midst of shouting before he stopped altogether, Miss Pauling pressing the tip of her gun against his forehead, creating complete silence within the entire room.

What is that Kretin attempting—and in front of the other men?

Whatever Spy told the boy was obviously bad advice, acting like a horny animal instead of using common sense. Misha was the first to even bother helping, standing up and trying to calm the situation so the Kretin’s brain was not filled with lead—as it would change much.

There was a sharp skid of a wooden chair moving against the floor, and seemingly, I was the only one to notice the sound. My sight was on Sniper as he stood firm and straight, his eyes beading wide open, arms shaking slightly. Then, his sharp canines were exposed, and a slight reverberation went through his throat. Sniper rushed past everyone, the fastest I have ever seen him, pulling that Kretin off Miss Pauling and proceeding to beat him into the ground till he bled.

Complete animalistic anger—I recalled seeing this long ago, and many times more during the battle. It was like his personality changed on a dime—how amusing, again, seeing such a quiet man acting no better than a violent juvenile. Unlike the rest, I smiled giddily at the sight of that Kretin being put in his place—oho, if only I had the pleasure of doing the same…

“What is your major malfunction!” Soldier and Demoman had hurried over, tearing Sniper off that Kretin. Sniper huffed and thrashed from their hold, having to be pulled away to avoid further violence. Only now did I realize I had to play the part, getting to my feet and going to check on Miss Pauling first.

I asked, “Miss Pauling, are you well—?”

But someone else’s voice answered aloud, “I’m fine,” making my stare go on them instead. Scout had whined when Spy came over to help him up—a very uncharacteristic choice. If not for the situation the others may look at him with curious eyes. That Kretin pulled out of Spy’s hold, staggering away with his arm near his face, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“—not the first time that’s happened,” Miss Pauling was speaking still, barely listening now. She tried downplaying the scene as a mere misunderstanding, even telling Sniper she preferred not to see someone dead in front of her today. Sniper had calmed down some, halting his thrashing but exposing that slight anger still through his twitchy scowl. Sniper once again distracted me before having to continue in my façade of worry, getting rejected once more from her as she hurried off, wanting to leave this place altogether now.

My irritating throbbing in my head returned, coming over to rudely get into that Kretin’s face,

demanding that he show me the damage.

“I’m fine!” The Kretin whined.

When his stubbornness to comply continued,

I grabbed his scrawny face, tilting it side to side—he may just have a fractured nose.

Keep still…

Good boys do as their told.

Bleedin’ mongrel! Sniper said

You are yelling again…

Good boys keep their voices down.

We cannot have men acting out on emotional judgment. said

Sod off, wanker!! Yel led

Now we don’t need ye to s̵t̷a̷r̵t̴ ̸m̸a̷k̵i̶n̸’̶ ̵t̸r̸o̶u̶b̵l̶e̸ ̶e̵i̵t̷h̵e̵r̴!̷

Acting like such a child…

Good boys don’t have tantrums.

̶ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̸ ̴H̶e̸a̵v̴y̴ ̸.̵.̸.̶ ̴S̵n̸i̷p̴e̶r̴ ̵a̵n̵d̵ ̴S̸o̴l̷d̷i̸e̶r̶ ̴s̶h̸o̴u̵l̵d̷ ̷k̸e̶e̸p̶ ̴z̴h̶e̴i̴r̷.̴.̵.̴.̴e̶v̴e̶r̴y̷o̴n̶e̷ ̸h̸e̷r̷e̴.̸.̷.̴ me

I̶ ̶c̴a̴n̶ ̷k̵e̵e̸p̷.̸.̶.̸ ̴b̵l̵o̶o̷d̶y̸ ̴d̸i̶s̶t̸a̷n̷c̶e̴.̷.̵.̷ ̸t̵h̴a̴n̶k̶ ̵y̷a̸h̵.̶.̴.̴ who

L̶e̶t̷ ̶u̶s̸.̷.̴.̵ ̷t̵o̸w̸a̸r̷d̴s̶ ̶z̵e̴ ̴m̸e̴d̵i̴c̷a̸l̵.̵.̸.̷.̷

.̷͖̅.̷͇͘.̴̝͐.̵̣̓

.̶̘̇.̶̥͂.̴̬͆.̷̩͐.̸̖̀.̷̼̑.̵͘

.̶̘̇.̶̥͂.̴̬͆.̷̩͐.̸̖̀.̷̼̑.̵̩͘

I looked upon the fireplace, having intruded upon Vater’s studies while he was asleep on his desk. He promised to help me with practice this afternoon, but never showed, even when night had settled. Too many patients coming in today, crying, yelling. They both thanked but said awful things to Vater, and it never made sense as the reasons were always different.

A spark crackled within the dying flame, not been fed wood for some time. When the watching bored me, I came closer to Vater, tugging at a part of his coat to wake him up.

The feeling of a harsh, tight grip slammed upon my shoulder, making me shriek a noise of fright. Vater had indeed awoken, his eyes shot wide, breathing heavy, grip shaky. His expression was filled with anger, but changed when he realized it was only me. The hold was quickly gone, leaving nothing more than a slight beat of pain in my nerves.

“I do apologize,” he said, panic in his voice as he tapped frantically at the desk, looking for his glasses. They were placed on his face with reckless haste once found, still tapping and searching around, making papers slip to the floor with little worry or care. “Let me check for bruising.” He found a small ointment balm and a clean rag, nodding at me to show the damage. Something so minor felt embarrassing, even when Vater showed his utmost worry, more so when I did not do as he asked.

My fingers soon snapped at the buttons of my suit’s vest, then I loosely adjusted my collar more openly, showing off the shoulder Vater placed pressure upon. Nothing was there, but Vater always did his job for the smallest of injuries, careful when rubbing the ointment against my skin before wiping away the excess with the rag. That was just the kind of doctor Vater was, and why his hands were still shaky from overwork.

If others did not bother Vater so much, I would find reasons to be treated like this every day.

I fixed my appearance once Vater finished his worrying, but was too afraid to speak my reasoning for such intrusion. Vater went quiet the same, his elbows softly hitting the table with a low sigh, running a hand through his sweaty hair, messing it up further as it was falling apart in the front. When his tired sight came back on me, the realization on why I was even here finally struck him.

“…I promise next time, Kleiner Vogel,” he repeated that familiar lie, knowing that promise would continue to be broken until everything went back to normal. Still, I gave an understanding hum. He forced himself to smile, and gave a gentle pat on my head of reassurance. Then, something was handed over to me. “If you can, leave this for the maid.”

It was Vater’s teacup. D̴o̷k̴t̸o̶r̵

I nodded, carefully taking the cup—it was so cold around my fingers.

“Wash your face and head to bed,” he asked kindly, only half paying attention to his words as I made my leave from his room with rude haste. But the direction I went was far from the Kitchen, going upstairs instead and into my room. My back hit against my door, panting slightly as I looked at the cup.

A small bit of liquid was still inside—dark reddish water mixed with an orange hue of honey.

Vater likes honey in his tea.

I like honey in my tea as well. D̴o̷k̴t̸o̶r̵

SoO I draNk iTt .

D̴o̷k̴t̸o̶r̵

—̴

“Doktor,” Misha’s voice was startlingly close, hand on my shoulder and slightly shaking me. My focus felt blurred, blinking to get better used to the bright surroundings. When everything came to be, I realized I was in my medical office now, sitting at my desk, listening in on the soft cooing of the birds. And Misha stood next to me, worry shown on his face.

…What am I doing?

My thoughts slowly came back, recalling what I was doing last—yes, I was taking that Kretin to the medical office to patch him up. But when I looked around the room, that Kretin was nowhere in sight.

“Vhere is Herr Scout?” My voice rose, irritated at Misha. “Do not tell me you let him run off!”

Misha took his hand off, hesitating to answer. And when he did, he simply said, “Doktor healed Scout hours ago.”

That answer made me pause, more of the cooing preoccupying our ears during the silence.

“…Ohoh, I suppose I did!” A bit of laughter escaped me, realizing my forgetfulness. “Herr Scout just cannot help but get into trouble, ja? Perhaps he is lying about hating needles—he vould avoid injury if he did!”

Misha gave a weak laugh and smiled back, “Da—Da! Scout gets into big trouble. Very messy!” His laughter subsided faster, lacking much enthusiasm. “Heavy wanted no violence…”

“Vell, it vas not like you caused it to happen,” I assured him, soon calming down the same. As amused as I was watching the scene before, I felt as if I needed to understand the reasons why Sniper acted in such a way. Dummkopf—all my focus should be on Spy at the moment, not on a drug addict unable to control his emotions—

“Heavy worry about Sniper,” Misha mentioned, if a bit quietly to himself.

…Worry?

That is not good… Worry means incompetence….

“Is zhat so?” I said, the cheeriness of my tone gone, finding his words very questioning. Misha's lips shut tight, knowing full well he had said something wrong. “He alvays gets his medication on time,” I continued, getting up and turning my back on him, thinking aloud more to myself now. “But ze medication may be ze reason vhy he acted ze vay he did… Oh, zhat vill not do… Ja, ja, I vill have to keep an extra eye on him lest somezhing like zhis may affect vork next time.” When I turned around, I showed him a smile. “Do you not agree?”

Misha only frowned, but nodded in his silence.

Yes, I am being incompetent… Sniper is my patient as much as Spy—far more than I realize… I have to deal with his actions or else others will think me not fit for the job. That would be no good—everyone must trust in their doctor. If I can treat him properly, then I could do the same with Spy—make him realize his foolery around that Kretin and stop.

Because it is wrong…

Lie or truth, it is wrong to have such feelings for…

“I vish to be alone now,” my request was cold and abrupt, back turned on Misha once more with a sharp snap to my boot. “Do leave.”

No reply was given, nor a pause of hesitation was made. Misha simply let his shoes do the talking, making his way out of the room as asked. I watched the doors begin to close, hurrying over to keep them skewed open, listening more clearly to his footsteps walking down the hall before quieting altogether. Once gone, I hurried back to my cabinets, searching through and grabbing the usual prescription given to Sniper.

I gave it a long stare until I too left the office.

Perhaps we can discuss medical issues over some drinks, Mick Mundy.

Chapter 11: Crocodile

Chapter Text

It should have been a simple knock, pleasant greetings, and a request for drinks. And yet I am sitting here on a dingy metal step leading to his door, legs unable to settle down as the minutes passed by.

Walking through the halls unnoticed was easy enough—many of the men were still in the commons, entertaining themselves with something I did not care to find out. The walk to his campervan was even easier—the open outskirts were filled with nothing but rock and sand for miles. No, the hardest part of this venture was the dreaded heat, the sun still visible in the sky and beating against my forehead.

Drinks were an excuse before, but now I would love nothing more than some cold water—water not filled with lead, at least… how does Sniper even get water into this thing?

Such unneeded thoughts were waved away, adjusting my collar to a more open position, using my dress shirt to fan myself and relieve some of the sweat around my neck. My eyes closed, then opened again, taking notice of a patch of shifted dirt near one of his tires. A shoddy, broken stick stuck in the middle, tilted to its side. Like a makeshift grave of sorts…

“Doc?” A familiar voice brought my attention over, only now realizing Sniper’s presence, still in the midst of walking when approaching me. He stopped once close enough, adjusting his aviators to look at me properly, exposing his utmost surprise finding me sitting at his doorstep.

“Zhere you are!” I said quite happily when getting up, doing a quick wipe down of my clothing to clean off the dirt before approaching closer. “You had me vorried—vhere else vould you be but not here?”

He fitted his aviators back on his face and tried to speak.

But I interrupted, pointing at such distracting eyewear, “Oh, take zhose silly zhings off before speaking vith me, it is very rude!” His hand was still on them when I said this, frowning slightly at my request but kindly doing as I asked, letting them rest a top of his hat instead. What anger he held hours ago seemed tamed now, expression dulled, eyes heavy with tiredness.

I gave a “Danke,” and gestured towards his door. “Nov, let us speak inside—ze heat is dreadful.” When he only replied by just looking at me stupidly, I asked again, “Vell? Vhat is ze delay?”

Sniper fiddled with his hat slightly, finally doing what I asked again as he came to the door, going through his pouch pocket and pulling out a keyring with a few keys attached. A certain object within was different from the rest—a metal-shaped trinket that looked similar to a…

“Oho, vhat a cute little Alligator,” I chuckled.

“Crocodile,” and Sniper spoke back, which honestly surprised me. He continued, showing off the trinket properly. “It’s a Crocodile. Snout is different. More narr…” But then he stopped altogether, the two of us looking at each other in awkward silence.

Sniper went back to opening the door, unlocking it with a slight stumble before asking me to enter first. And I happily did, taking a first step in and completely regretting my decision altogether. A subtle pungent odor teased enough to be a bother to my nerves, trying to adjust to the unique smell. The distracting mess of hanging clothing and jars haphazardly placed about was not helping—oh my gott, does he really keep those filthy jars on a countertable?!

Despite these intrusive setbacks, I held a twitchy smile to keep up appearance, acting intrigued with the environment by examining around with fascinated humming and praise. The door was clicked closed, Sniper watching me peruse his home. The pretending grew boring quickly, though, bringing my attention back on him.

“Let us have some drinks.”

Sniper gave me another blink of confusion.

Again, when he had yet to do as I asked, I snapped my fingers, “Go, make us drinks—Schnell!”

Another fiddle to his hat as he went to go do that, pointing at a small table barely fit enough for two. Simple stools sat on the sides open for space, half of it blocked by his huge couch that was stationed in his kitchen area. It was quite a strange layout—a combination of many rooms combined into one. Deeper within the van was a bedroom of sorts, and some form of door crafted within the wall leading someplace I had the vaguest clue was—Dell’s work perhaps? He did fancy Sniper’s van quite a bit.

I waited patiently at the table when examining such a place, actually being intrigued by the layout until the small click of ceramic hitting wood caught my attention. Two cups were set on both sides of the table, thin streams of heat exposing its temperature.

“Coffee in this heat?” Some of my annoyance spewed, scuffing at the chipped ceramic.

“Want some water?” He said quite dryly when sitting, taking the first sip of his own cup.

“It is fine,” another scoff from me, just taking what was offered—anything will do at this point, I am quite thirsty. “Ve have zhings to discuss.”

He said nothing to that, letting his cup keep his mouth occupied instead.

I continued for him, “It is quite unlike you to be avay from your van—I vas vaiting for quite a long time, you knov? You had me vorried.”

“Went out walking,” he admitted quietly, cup still in hand. “Cooled my head… had a smoke.”

“A walk?” I emphasized some, finding it strange. Sniper was truly showing his past living conditions if he walked for hours in this blasted heat. His drinking is proving that even more, just sipping away, not the least bit afraid of burning himself.

“Vell, a drive out of town vould have done you better if you wanted to cool off.”

“…Don’t like drivin’ when upset,” he mentioned, cup settled on the table along with his hands held together. “Came back a while ago, actually… Started feelin’ bad, so I went apologizin’ to the kid.”

“Oh?” Such a curious admission made me pick up my own cup. “And hov did zhat go?”

“Found him drunk outta his bloody mind,” he deadpanned.

Such a response got me laughing, “Ohoho, vell, I suppose zhat is one vay to cope vith your mistakes.” And finally, I took a sip of the drink. It went roughly down my throat, a warming, bitter taste that made it hard to swallow. “Ahem…! Qu—Quite a bitter choice,” my voice hoarsened, trying to clear my throat—his brand makes the lead water here easier to swallow.

“Premium dark roast,” Sniper explained with a bit more volume in his voice. “Folks send me a bag once in a while…” He paused and then asked honestly, “Yah don't like yer coffee black, Doc?”

“Nein! One tvist of ground cinnamon mixed vith a dab of honey,” I happily proclaimed with a finger raised.

Sniper gave a simple, “Hrm…” before picking his cup again, sipping away, and avoiding eye contact now.

Such a rude attitude made me frown. We were having a pleasant conversation just a moment ago, only now deciding that ignoring me was the better call. There is nothing strange about us conversing, Sniper.

I placed my cup down, getting to the point, “Obviously, ze drugs have been affecting you.” Sniper's reaction was subtle, a slight twitch at the ends of his lips, pursing his mouth to keep them shut. “If zhey vere interfering like zhis, you should have told me! Aggression is vonderful, but only vhen it is on the enemies, not your ovn teammates—you are lucky you did not smash Scout’s skull vhen Miss Pauling vas around.”

“It went somethin’ like that.”

My head tilted slightly, giving a hum of curiosity back.

“Bleedin' bastard was laughin' at me...” Sniper continued, more so rambling to himself than speaking to me now, the squeak of his half-glove telling of the shaking in his hands. “Didn't take me seriously... I never meant it... was just angry, and everythin' was hurtin'... She got in the way when she wasn't supposed to... Didn't mean to grab her... All I did, nothin’ else... Didn't do it...”

Ah, I recall some of his history involved severe allegations. His documents explained little about the drug usage, but I do not doubt that such an event may have been one of the major causes. I am a doctor, not a psychologist, so the depths of his mentality are far too unknown for me to care.

“Oho, I see.” My smile returned. “Zhat little scene before brought back some ill memories for you?”

Sniper sat in his silence, not so much giving me a nod of recognition back.

“Zhat little Kretin can be so troublesome!” I huffed, the one rambling now, “If anyzhing, you did him a favor—I doubt ze boy has ever gotten a proper beating in his life, let alone understand not to repeat past mistakes. Honestly, it vould have done everyone a favor if ze boy had a proper parental figure to remind him of his place—”

“Are yah gonna stay for much longer?” Sniper interrupted, tone making a harsh change. He was expressing his anger toward me like I had offended him.

“…Vho gave you ze right to speak up like zhat to me?” I return the harsh tone, far from amused with his rudeness. That was enough for him to look away and remember his place, a slight squeak from his half-glove showing his stress. “I do not take kindly to hov horribly you have been treating me as your guest, Herr Sniper. Especially vhen I came here directly to check up on you.”

No defense was given, letting the brim of his hat hide himself away—we are indoors, there is no reason to be wearing that! My annoyance rose, sight at my cup of coffee before picking it up and standing, walking to where he sat. That alone got his head snapping up, trying to hold composure through his twitchy frown and downcast eyes.

Another look at my cup as I said, “And zhis coffee you made, vell,” before splashing it onto him, staining his shirt and vest in warming brown liquid. “It is quite disgusting.”

Sniper stood in a panic, knocking his own cup in the process and staining the table.

“Bloody hell,” he shouted far too loudly, height shadowing over me with an intense glare and sharpened teeth. “Yah tryin' to get burns on me, Doc—?!”

“You are yelling,” I scolded, finding no amusement in his rabid change in emotions. “You need to control zhat temper of yours, Herr Sniper. Unless you vant zhat title of yours becoming a lie.”

That frown returned, taking in my words. And after everything I did, he gave space between us and simply said, “Sorry.”

Yelling at me one instant and spewing a pathetic apology the next—what am I supposed to take from this, Sniper?! Lack of confrontation, responsibility? He would rather just take the abuse to keep up that title—and he has already failed at doing that!

“…Hoh, do not be such a baby!” I laughed to help change the mood, approaching closer and giving him a friendly tap on his shoulder. “It vas an accident on my part—a little coffee never hurt anyone!” And further did I get into his space, wanting this messy vest jacket off. He seemed shocked at my actions, but did not stop me. “Your clothes are filthy nov—ve need no more filth in here, Herr Sniper.”

The vest was removed, dropped to the floor, proceeding to unbutton his shirt next. His discomfort was showing, but still doing nothing to stop me. Such weakness again, even when it is obvious he has the skills to make it stop. Damned fool… I absolutely loved seeing that Kretin writhe in pain—such brutality, such anger… maybe I should deny this medication if it makes him this docile—

The others would find out.

My hands stopped.

No… he has to be on the medication. There would be few excuses left if I had nothing to keep his mouth shut… Sniper is indeed just tolerating me because he has no choice… Nein, he should be trusting his Doctor, not fearing me—he has nothing to be afraid of, why would he be afraid of me?

“Your medication,” I repeated, making Sniper tilt his head my way. “I need to check hov your body is handling ze medication!”

My hands rustled through my pockets, taking out a pack of condoms and a small bottle of lube—a few careful essentials for such a dangerous environment. The two of us are still… exchanging things after all, so this outcome was expected.

I gave space between us, pointing at his couch nearby. “Sit yourself dovn, ja? Ve vill check over your libido,” I asked with a cheerful smile, strangely excited.

There was a bit of hesitation, but he soon did as commanded, taking his hat off and even finishing up the rest of his buttons, letting the shirt stay on and exposing his chest. Subtle muscle showed through his quite average body, filled with faded cuts and marks, and even growing a bit of hair in the middle. Sniper then made his way to his couch and sat, unsure what else he needed to do and far too ashamed to ask.

“Do not vorry, zhere is little you vill have to do,” I explained, approaching whilst removing my glove. But I stopped, looking upon the stitched scarring around my thumb and index… One hand was all I needed, adjusting my glove back in place and instead removing the other one.

No warning was given when unbuckling his belt, exposing himself below, an unshaven mess of hair covering his flaccid cock. Even in this state, it was impressively large.

“Hohoho,” a chuckle of childish amusement spewed from me. “You are quite larger zhan I realized.”

Sniper's only response was to shy away, trying to focus on anything else in the room. I do not know why he would feel so ashamed—men would feel prideful being so well-endowed.

I unsnapped the bottle of lubrication, giving a gentle squeeze, dribbling it all over his groin, making a mess in the bushel of hair. Sniper shivered slightly from the cooling feeling, lips pressed to avoid any shameful noises. When all of it was used, I went to open the package of condoms, picking the colorful pink one and carefully placing the rubber over his limp, slick cock. My gloved hand then came around his waist, pressing the two of us closer together.

“Does ze lubricant feel nice?” I whispered, my other hand wrapping around his covered cock with a gentle press. I did a small squeeze at his tip for a reaction, getting little in return but a twitchy mouth. “Sensitivity tends to be on ze tip, but you are barely expressing anyzhing vhen I touch it,” I praised, thumb sliding between the line where the pinkish tip met the skin. When he kept quiet, I slowed. “I vould appreciate some feedback here, Herr Sniper... Unless you vant zhis to take forever.”

“…Yeah,” he mumbled, sight still away. “It feels nice…”

“Vhat does?”

“…Your hand.”

And I chuckled, very amused, “I suppose I can vork off zhat.”

My hand slicked down his length, moving up again to squeeze the head in a repeated motion. Not much in the way of noise was made by him, the lube doing all the work instead. Even if he reacted so dully, the blood flowing below showed his arousal, completely hard now. It was far from ready for release, though.

“Your endurance is better zhan expected,” again I praised. “I bet you have made many vomen happy.”

Sniper once again held quiet.

“Do you not have much experience vith vomen?”

“Naw…”

“I suppose zhat explains a few zhings about your history,” I said with a bit of indifference, being mindless when stroking. “Quite a shame—you could settle dovn quite vell vith a young lady.”

“Don't like Sheilas,” such an admission made my hand pause, head tilting in curiosity. “…Not anymore.” He sounded very upset with himself, like he had said something terrible.

“Vell zhere is only tvo you have to vorry about in zhis line of vork.” I continued, slick rubber on lube squeaking louder when raising my pace.

“Hhh...” a low moan vibrated up his throat, struggling to hold it in.

My hand slowed down this time, showing him a smile, “Oh, vhat is it? You need to speak to me properly, Herr Sniper.”

Another low, shaking breath spewed from him, not sure where he should be looking anymore. His mouth twitched open, sight slowly coming onto me as he pleaded, “Co—Come, Doc…”

And I was more than happy to oblige his request, hurrying my stroking once more, listening in on the squelching of the condom against the lube. His cock was beating in excitement, closer to his limit now.

“Ahh…” It was a pitiful sound, his hips buckling into my hand as he finally released himself. I helped him through his coming, the pinkish color of the condom turning a light white within. It only lasted a few seconds, but he spilled quite a large amount. I waited for the condom to sag to his tip before carefully slipping it off, wrapping it so it did not spill.

“Wunderbar,” again I praised, going through my pockets and taking out his medication. He was still in his post haze, slow to notice the bottle before a shaky hand reached out and took it. I hummed at the tiny filled bag, getting up from the couch, tossing it into a dinky wastebasket he had nearby. “Your libido is vorking perfectly, Herr Sniper. Ze medication is far from affecting you in zhat…” I stopped.

Sniper was paying no heed to me, staring at the medical bottle. Just sat in place and unwilling to even get up to clean himself—Ekelhaft! Such a sight annoyed me, taking a quick look around and grabbing the cleanest-looking rag I could find. Some life sprang in his eyes, watching as I kneeled in front of him to carefully clean the mess. Much of what I could do was left for Sniper to finish, standing back to my feet as tossing the dirty thing in the garbage the same.

“I do not believe ze medication is making you zhis lazy, Herr Sniper,” I scolded, doing a slight adjustment to my glasses.

“Uh,” he stumbled, embarrassment showing before deciding nodding was enough. Good, maybe now he will behave and I can focus back on more important matters. Settled with my curiosity, I decided to my time here was enough, making my leave out.

“Do promise me from nov on you vill say mention any strange changes to your vell-being?” I said with a smile, hand on the handle.

Sniper gave another simple nod.

And then said softly, “Thanks, Doc.”

… ...

Everything was becoming an eyesore, hurrying out of that filthy place.

Chapter 12: Door

Chapter Text

Sniper and that Kretin were talking together in the Respawn.

Awkwardness, apologies, and a friendly jab to the shoulder were enough to excuse actions from before.

The other men in the room were just as joyful at the sight of them making up.

Except Spy…

That sight of his woeful expression made me giddy, smiling at him, asking if he wanted to join the rest.

…He did not.

There was guilt that had shown itself, even through that thin layer of cloth.

Guilt to rightfully have...

Guilt to not forget…

…Because it is wrong.

…To have such thoughts, such feelings… is wrong.

It is wrong…

It is— ̸ ̩̄

— ̸ ̩̄

BANG

The doors to my office snapped open with such haste that papers slipped from my desk, the noise causing unrest for the birds above. Even when rudely taken out from my thoughts, this minor inconvenience did not bother me, believing that the man who just entered to be Spy—he has been on time with his check-ups recently after that Kretin made friends with Sniper.

Yet when I turned in my seat to greet him, all that came out was, “My Gott!”

It was not Spy at all, but Pyro holding Dell up, the man slumping to his side. His robotic hand dangled from his arm, exposing the mix of wires and flesh intertwined into one. Dark trails of blood dripped down the metal, and slight bolts of static made the fingers twitch uncontrollably. The gaping cut was ragged—flesh and muscle shaven off unevenly, telling me it was quite a messy incident that had befallen him.

“Woohee—ghek… Doc,” Dell tried to laugh it off anyway, a speckle of blood coming up his throat when speaking. “Thinkin’ I cut my arm a bit too deeply now.”

Even with my initial shock, the realization of the sight got me huffing at him, all annoyed. And I scolded, “Dell, again?!”

Pyro helped Dell to the stretcher, very vocal in his muffling, trying to explain what happened. I absolutely had no idea what he was saying, simply nodding, hoping it would be enough to calm him down so I could deal with the injury. When Pyro continued in his indescribable explanation, I asked him to go fetch some medicine for Dell instead.

The medication did help soothe the pain for Dell, cackling away when watching me stitch his robotic hand back onto his arm. The entwined circuit of wires and skin was showing signs of an infection, and I could only imagine the pain he was going through, even when high on the drugs. This was far out of line with my own talents, starting what he would have to finish later.

Amidst my work, Pyro stuck around, placing another colorful band-aid on Dell’s cheek, covering his face with dots of pastel pink and blue. Pyro clapped happily, wasting another package as he repeated this action. If the matter were less serious, I would scold him for being a bother and demand his leave. On such an occasion, I did not. This was one of the rare times Pyro held some semblance of humanity, acting out his more child-like side instead of trying to burn alive one of my birds.

With everything I could do to help, I snapped off the end string of the stitching, cleaning the mess of blood and smoothing a bit of ointment around the wound.

“Here,” I said, giving the half-used medicine bottle to Pyro before he went and grabbed another package of bandages to waste. “No more zhan tvo every four hours—and vith vater, Dell.”

“Lookin’ good as new, Doc,” Dell slurred, looking stupidly at the mechanical hand. He tried to move the fingers, only getting a spastic static twitch in return. I do not care to redo my work—if he opens the stitches, that will be on his own doing. His careless fiddling only stopped when he remembered something, asking Pyro, “Son, give the Doc the… the thin white slip.”

Pyro nodded, looking through Dell’s pouch pocket, retrieving a slip from within and handing it over. It was sudden, but I took it without complaint, eyes skimming the contents—oh, this is some new contractual work.

“Miss, ehrm… Paulming?” Dell tried explaining. “Yeah, she came ‘round with contracts again. Was lookin’ for yah but was mighty impatient ‘bout it. Got stuck with yers instead—kinda careless if yah think ‘bout it, that stuff is private.”

Pyro muffled to Dell, who in return nodded and reassured what he said was true.

“Yeah, she did go walkin’ with Spah! Didn’t seem too busy talkin’ with him.”

…Oh? It sounded as if Spy had already returned to his old habit of wooing women. Such news brought some delight to my face and a small chuckle of amusement, getting strange looks from the other two. I quickly kept appearance, clearing my throat.

“Danke,” I thanked, heading over to my desk to place the sheet down and put on cleaner gloves. “Pyro, if you can, please take Dell to his room—I vould like him avay from his machinery until he is at least lucid again.”

Pyro was eager to oblige, helping Dell off the bed, making sure his good arm wrapped around his shoulder. And throughout, Dell was still happily blabbering away nonsense as the two of them left my office. My smile returned after they left, finally fitting my new gloves as I sat, skimming over the sheet again.

Sniper has really done far more for me than I initially thought, able to do my job without interfering with others' business. His true intentions are a mystery, though—honestly, I doubt he really wants to be around that loud Kretin—oho, actually, maybe I should persuade such ideas onto him so that Kretin stays away from Spy for good…

My own remembrance got me to stand, looking through the cabinets to find familiar medicine. Thinking of Sniper made me realize how late he had yet to pick up his prescription, having not seen him for weeks outside all the battling. I will let his forgetfulness slide just this once, but he must keep his health in check for sudden withdrawal can do great harm to his body. If anything happened to him, it would come back to me…

Taking the medication, I made my way out with a hum, my mood quite high. If things continued like this onward, then I may make proper progress with Spy’s condition. Ja, that was my purpose after all—I just got distracted again.

Distracted…

Distracted by…

…When I reached the hallway of the bedrooms, I noticed them.

Scout is pulling Spy to come inside his room…

Spy acting flustered but happily walking inside like nothing was wrong with him doing so…

...What are you two doing?

…I thought this was over—I thought Herr Spy understood this!

It is wrong!

Do not fall victim to such degeneracy—it is disgusting—it is wrong!

It is wrong.

It is not fair.

It is not fair!

It is not fair!!

Ŵ̶̢̫͕͔̔̿̈́̋͘h̷̯̥́́͝ͅý̶̺̫̔͒̅̒͠ ̵̩̜̰̼͙͐̽̕͘ͅd̷̝͙̞̿͌͗̓͂̀ö̷̝́͑̓̚ ̶̨̢̛͕͖̈̐̋̋ŷ̴͇͎̳̠̗̽͗ǫ̸̗̯̜̕u̶͍̣̙̭̅͘ ̴̳̱̱̩̱̫̏́̈̒͗͗̇g̸̮͕̜̰̦̃̋͂ͅe̵̞̻̙̲͊̒̚ṯ̶̛͉̟̼̜̥̐̑͊̆͛͑ ̸͈͔̐̌͐̄̑͂s̵̗͍̔̊́̚ǘ̴̳̘̦̬̻̿̿̉c̸̟̀h̵̡̛̲͓̝̖͑ ̴̱͎͖̯͐ͅͅȟ̶̨͎͖̖͖̈́͆ȁ̵̡̻̬͎̤̈́̚p̴̨̱͛p̸̨̤̘̜̜̽i̴̫͗̍̋̕n̴͎͇̠͛̔e̷͍̣̱͇̭̋̀͐̓s̷̰̞̟̩̈́͒̊͜͜s̵̼͚̦̯̎͒̅̑̚ ̵̨̝̰͘ẇ̸̡h̴̡̟̯̘̙̲͐̇̊e̵̪̻̘̜̙̖̘͗̏̂̆̏̅̀n̶̨̙̦̺͖̼͚̓̈́̐̅̑̓ ̵̱͑̀̒̚̚Î̷̠̔̊͊̈̒̄ ̸̯͈̥̯͆͊͐n̸̤̗͖͈̭̩͗͒͜e̴̲͙̻̙̍̍̾̅v̸̨̘͔̞͈̔̓̑ẹ̵̡́̾̑͜͝͝r̴͙͎̬̟̙͊̀̒̉ ̴̗͙͋̋̚ĉ̸̺̮̳̺͖̹́̇͆͌͊o̶̧̞̖͖̼̺͈͛͂̓ụ̴̈́́̉̏̍̽l̷̬͐́͝d̵̡̰̬͖̺͎͌͊̋̇̅̚̚?̸̯̇̆̄́̈́̈́̃

My eyes opened to the darkness of my room, awakening tiredly from my bed and feeling thirsty. It was far too late to walk through the house, but I struggled to get back to sleep with how dry my mouth tasted. I was careful when getting off the bed, trying not to bump into anything when reaching the door, opening it to see the small semblance of light through the windows. My hands gripped the rails of the stairs, each step made slowly to not cause any noise.

When I reached the end, I looked down the hall, noticing light peeking through Vater’s door. That light alone should have told me to head back, but I moved forward instead, creeping closer to the door and peering inside. Vater was indeed in his room, sitting on his chair with a drink in hand. But Vater’s friend was also still here, looking upon the bright fireplace with an uncomfortable smile.

“See this badge?” Vater’s friend was talking, showing off his uniform’s collar. “I was promoted to a higher rank not so long ago.”

Vater said nothing, not even looking at his friend as he held his head low in exhaustion.

His friend simply shrugged, far from upset. “I thought you would be proud of me.” Vater’s friend watched the fire burn in the warming silence, sparks of the wood breaking, keeping our ears company. “…I learned a lot from all these wars, Herbert,” he began, tone coming off more serious. “It’s a terrible thing, truly, but a necessary evil. Without it, who knows where you and your son would be now?”

Again, Vater made no reply, only hinting at any liveliness with the slight grip to his glass. His friend noticed this as well, coming closer, one hand on the chair’s armrest to keep steady when bending forward, gently taking the glass from Vater’s hand.

“…A lot of us would be starving if nothing was done,” Vater’s friend said, lips pressed against the edge of the glass, letting it linger before swallowing the rest of the drink. A slight pop from the glass to his lips was made before he settled the drink on the table next to the chair. He stayed far too close to Vater in that position, again exposing that eerie smile.

Vater’s friend’s hand then came upon Vater’s arm, running fingers downward to touch his calloused hand. “Do you not indulge with the maid? She’s such a lovely young woman.”

Again, no response, Vater even tilting his head away to look at the fireplace instead.

And yet his friend continued speaking like everything was fine, “Ohoh, Herbert... You must feel dreadfully lonely.” He brought Vater’s hand to his face, placing his lips on the knuckle. “I still remember the day I fell in ~~love~~ with you… The scars you cared for by this very hand.”

Another kiss, another, almost like he was devouring Vater’s hand out of hunger.

Vater just sat there, doing nothing to stop this.

And neither could I, staring.

Scared.

I was scared—Vater told me to be strong, but his friend was scaring me.

Doing such things was not right, it was strange—wrong, it was wrong!

A sudden hand landed on my shoulder, another heavy on my mouth to keep me from shrieking. My head tilted back, looking up, the cold stare of the maid looking down upon me. She said nothing, letting her eyes speak for her when turning me away from the door and towards the staircase.

The sounds.

Even afar, I heard the sounds.

From Vater.

Making scary sounds—his friend was doing such horrible things, and yet Vater…

Only when reaching my room did the sounds stop, the maid letting her hand off my mouth, but holding her other on my shoulder still. She turned me around slowly, kneeling in front of me now. And she gave the coldest stare, one just as fearful as mine, her fingers tightened on my shoulder.

“Some secrets are best kept quiet, young master,” she whispered, finally letting go and standing proper, closing the door with a soft snap and leaving me alone in the darkness. All I could do was stand on the spot, neither grabbing at the handle nor heading to bed. My legs then gave way, sat against the door, crying.

Crying against the door.

Door.

A door. door door d̶o̶o̵r̶ ̷d̶o̶o̵r̵ ̶d̶̬̉o̸̾ͅô̶͉r̵̲̀ ̶͍͒d̵̠̓ơ̴͖o̵̘͒ř̴͍ ̶̹͌d̷̠̕ò̶̤o̸̩̎r̴̭̾ ̷̢̐ď̷̙ò̴̹o̶̞͌

d̷̠̕ò̶̤o̸̩̎d̵̠̓ơ̴͖o̵̘͒ř̴͍ ̶̹͌d̷̠̕ò̶̤o̸̩̎r̴̭̾ ̷̢̐

d̷̠̕ò̶̤o̸̩̎r̴̭̾ ̷̢̐o̸̩̎r̴̭̾ơ̴͖o̵̘͒ř̴͍ ̶̹͌d̷̠̕ò̶̤o̸̩̎r̴̭̾ ̷̢̐

Again, I am at a door.

Panting, moaning… Those similar sounds, repeated by different men.

Faster… Slower… done in a clumsy fashion.

My mouth is twitching, wishing to spew words in return but knowing better.

B̸u̷t̸ ̶w̴h̷e̵n̷ ̸y̷o̷u̵ ̸a̸c̸t̸ ̵s̷o̵ ̶r̴e̶b̴e̷l̷l̸i̷o̸u̵s̶ ̵a̵t̴ ̷s̸u̴c̸h̸ ̸a̷n̸ ̷a̸g̴e̶ ̴s̵t̵i̵l̴l̵–̴–̷ ̶A̵h̵–̸–̴!̵ ̶I̶ ̵c̵a̸n̴n̵o̷t̶ ̷h̵e̶l̶p̷ ̶i̵t̴

What I am already doing is wrong…

Especially here… I could get caught…

Ahh… but I cannot stop myself…

Pathetic… Ohahahaa… over this…

My eyes are on the floor, the sweat making my glasses dip to the edge of my nose…

I feel hair against my forehead…

The heat is unbearable… It is too damn hot…

And my hand is flaring up… It hurts but I am still moving it…

P̵l̴e̶a̵s̸e̶…̵ ̶I̷ ̶w̸a̶n̸t̸ ̷t̴o̴ ̷c̷o̸m̶e̴ ̷a̵s̶ ̵w̸e̵l̴l̴.̷ ̴S̷'̶i̴l̴ ̷v̵o̵u̸s̸ ̵p̸l̵a̸i̸t̵…

Yes… let me handle you… let me be the one…

Almost… Almost…!

Ah…

…

I look at my glove… I look at my hand…

Wet… White… Shame… Your shame.

…How disgusting. I’m disgusting, Vater…

…

I need Sniper.

Chapter 13: Medication

Chapter Text

Another door… another familiar door.

…My hand rose—knuckle on metal.

Tap… Tap… Tap…

No answer.

Tap… Tap… Tap…

No answer.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

No answer.No answer.No answer.No answer...........

...My hand hurts.

The stitching is breaking.

But I need him… He needs this.

You need your medication, Sniper—OPEN UP.

Open up... Open up... Open up... Open up...

Open up... Open up... Open up... Open up——!!

“Told yah to take it easy on the bloody door, Sco—!” Sniper shouted when opening the door, my thoughts taking control long enough to step away to avoid harm. He only stopped in his yelling when seeing it was me and not another, his scowl turning into a frown, anger gone and replaced with embarrassment. He rubbed at his neck and apologized, "Didn’t mean to yell at yah, Doc… Did’ya need somthin’?”

No reply was given, being slow to respond. All I did was stare, forgetting why I was even here… Medication! Ja, ja, he has yet to pick up his medication!

“Nein, I do not need nozhing—I just came to bring you your medicine,” I finally explained, expressing a smile whilst shaking over the small bottle of medication. "You have been so forgetful lately—you cannot forget, Herr Sniper! Your body vould not be able to properly handle ze vithdrawel if you stopped so suddenly!” My scolding was made lightly, still holding out the medication. When it had yet to be taken, my confusion only grew, head tilted slightly at him.

Sniper looked longingly at the bottle, but soon raised his head, showing an awkward smile when saying, "Naw, I… I've been laying off the drugs, actually."

…

wHatt?

"Guess I've been feelin' motivated lately, eheh… Sorry, yer right, should’ve told yah I wasn’t takin’ them anymore… I’m feelin’ fine, really! Don’t feel like there’s much reason in takin’ them—git me sleepy more than anythin’—"

“Vhat do you mean you have not been taking zhem?!"

I grabbed him. Pushed him deeper inside his van.

THUD

His back hit the wall, and the Van shook.

“I am your Doctor, Herr Sniper! Vhat I give is vhat you take!"

The medication crushed in my other hand.

"Take them."

And Pills spilled down his face.

He refused, mouth shut, head turned.

THUNK

A harsh smack against the bottle. Pills now spilled all over the floor.

He escaped my grip and coughed.

Coughing… Water… He needs water…

"Ja… It is hard to svallow vithout somezhing to drink first... I vill get you some water."

I looked around… I saw a can.

A colorful yellow can.

On the counter.

An empty BONK! can crushed on the counter.......

tHaT KRETIN wAS In HeRE.....

"Do you let zhat filthy Kretin in here? Is he ze reason you von't take your medicine nov? He never takes anyzhing I give him... A dreadful hassle… Do not listen to ze ramblings of a mere child vho knovs no better, Herr Sniper… Ja, listen to your Doctor… I am here to take care of you, not enable bad habits——"

"Git..."

Sniper’s harsh voice made me stop, listening to his half-glove tightening fiercely. When my sight came on him, I noticed the messy state of his skewed clothing and hair. His bright, sharp teeth exposed themselves, contrasting from the slight tanning of his skin and aviators. And his eyes showed past the orange, a deep dark blue, filled with predatory anger.

"Git out of my damn home,” he threatened further, voice low and gravelly.

…Oh, are you upset I am talking down on Herr Scout? That just further tells me the reason on why you are not taking your medication.

Damn Kretin.

He needs to know his place and stop being a nuisance.

Slit his throat—sew his mouth shut—lobotomize his brain—all wonderful ideas….

Not now… I have to help Sniper—Sniper needs my care—mine.

At first, I said nothing, calmly walking over and picking up the half-broken bottle of medication, peering inside to see a small batch of pills still safe within. My sight slowly came back on Sniper, only being threatened by his appearance and nothing more. And when I came closer, nothing had changed, standing right in front of him. He held his anger, only showing some semblance of a façade through a subtle twitch of his mouth.

I said, "Fine,” and placed a pill in my mouth, swinging a hand around his neck to bring his head down, my mouth pressed against his. Sniper stumbled where he stood, grabbing at my arm, fingers stretching the cloth, unsure whether to either pull or push. I kept us in place, a stumble of boots hitting loudly against the floor before finally ceasing.

My tongue slicked further inside, trying to slide the pill nicely down his throat so as to not choke him. A guttural cry came from Sniper, hand still shaking tightly against my arm as he was unable to settle down or properly breathe. A slight part to remind him to do that before trying again, hand harder on his neck when taking his mouth.

The pill was played around, even tasting the metallically sour flavoring that was mixing terribly with his already bitter flavor—burnt coffee beans… he needed something sweeter. Everything about Sniper tasted and smelled awful—the smell of a poor man who had lived in his own filth all his life. He needs to treat himself better… or at least take a bath more often.

Knowing this made my initial anger calm though, loosening the grip but making sure he kept in place. My mouth still consumed his, unsure if the pill had been swallowed, tongue tasting the warming flesh now. His mouth, while bitter, at least tasted clean—it was the only thing that felt cared for, tongue now brushing against the sharp enamel with curiosity.

The grip on my arm loosened, Sniper settling down, finally accepting my care. I felt his tongue caress mine through the wet movements, trying to help in return but unsure on what to do. The pill had been lost between us, both of us exploring every corner to make sure it was still there.

Sniper will get better if he takes his medication…

And he will be thankful…

And everyone will trust me…

A shuddering moan spewed, and then an audible gulp, the mess of the dissolving pill finally slipping down his throat. When the bob of his throat ceased and he settled, I was the first to part, an embarrassing string of saliva breaking between us. Spit hit our chins, wiping mine off first before doing the same for Sniper.

Once done, I gave space between us as minor silence took over.

My throat cleared the tension, and I adjusted the tilt in my glasses as I happily said, "Vas zhat so hard?"

Sniper kept quiet, sight on the ground, glasses sliding to the tip of his nose.

I looked the same, the mess of pills littered all over the dirty spread of carpet and metal. Such a disgusting sight made me shake my head, bending down, proceeding to pick up the pills anyway—it is good enough to use if washed. Every pill I could find was picked, settling it back inside the bottle as I placed it on his kitchen-like counter.

"Nov, do keep up vith your medication,” I began, light in my scolding again. “You are ze last person to be acting like a stubborn child."

When no reply was given, I gave a harsh look over to Sniper. He was just standing there, staring at the ground still.

A small scoff of annoyance did spew from me before asking, "Vhat is ze issue nov? Come, speak your mind."

His mouth opened slightly, trying to find the words.

"...Never kissed someone before, Doc,” he began. "...Never had sex either."

His head rose higher.

...A hint of color on his face.

....And he admitted.

"Yer were my first..."

…

“I am leaving,” I said? I said…

And I left.

Left to…

…I am not sure.

Where am I going now…?

Step

Step…

…

“Doktor.”

A voice.

“Doktor.”

A man. A giant is in front of me somewhere… someplace…

“Was worried. Dangerous walking alone,” he said. “Heavy understand… Let us get something to eat—make sandvich. Doktor must be hungry.”

Hungry?

I am hungry…

Yes, some food would be nice...

Chapter 14: Heart

Chapter Text

I adjusted my tie, dressed in my newly given doctor’s uniform. A birthday present from Vater, acknowledging that I had finally become an adult. The buttons snapped so pleasantly, and the whiteness of the cloth brightened my dimly dulled room with liveliness. I looked upon my fancy standing mirror, doing one last pat down the robing.

“I am an adult now, Vater,” I repeated those words to my reflection, holding a stern posture and straight face. Even with how serious I was when speaking, my heart was proving otherwise with how fast it was beating against my chest. My leave from home will be tomorrow, furthering my studies to fit the role Vater worked so hard to give. I do not know when I will see Vater again… so whatever he tells me, it does not matter. All I want now is to admit my feelings for him after all these years— ̸ ̩̄

— ̸ ̩̄

“Doktor,” the sudden call of Misha broke me from my thoughts.

When I looked around the room, I realized I was in the commons, Misha standing in the small kitchen area near the fridge, pulling out a sauce bottle from within—a half-used bottle of mayo. And I was sitting on one of the leftover makeshift tables, abandoned with the many empty booze bottles scattered atop it. The day had long been over, the only vagueness of light besides the fridge being the shoddy bulb blinking above us.

“Would Doktor like sauce?” Misha asked like he had repeated that question many times already.

“…Mayo is fine,” and I finally answered, speaking far too quietly for my liking when sitting in that most uncomfortable folding chair.

“Make hearty sandvich for Doktor!” Misha said with a smile, laying the mayo on the kitchen counter as he went to find some bread that had not molded away.

Ja… Misha was making me something to eat because I was hungry.

My head rose slightly, watching Misha grab a small basket next, filled with leftover veggies and fruits uneaten for days. He grumbled, annoyed at the forgotten waste not thrown away, talking amongst himself about the others careless behaviors about food. A curious question came upon me the more I watched him move about the shabbily made kitchen so freely, finding it best to speak now to avoid this teasing silence.

"Misha,” I began, tone still soft.

"Da, Doktor?"

"You are doing zhis for family?"

Misha’s sight came back on me, a bit confused by the sudden question.

“Your vork here,” I tried again. “It is for your family, ja?”

"Oh, Da!” And Misha happily replied. “All for family! Much money goes back home to Russia!”

That got me to chuckle for some reason, perking up a smile, "You must really love your family.”

He nodded, “Heavy loves Sisters and Mother very much.” Amidst his talking, he went to wash some of the ingredients, grabbing a water bottle that had been left unopened. “Depend on Heavy. Became new man of family." His tone was very sincere throughout, proud even.

“I am feeling treated as one.”

Misha’s shoulders did a little jump as the water bottle was suddenly crushed in his hand, blatant red all over his face when sputtering, “He—Heavy no mean to make Doktor feel uncomfortable!”

That got me to laugh again, shaking my head, “Nien, nien, it is just…” I paused, the semblance of happiness I showed disappearing. “My Vater never had ze chance.” That admission piqued Misha’s curiosity, focused more on me than on cleaning now. "He vas a vonderful Doctor, but terribly busy. Everyone adored his talents in my country.”

"Very important man!" Misha gave unnecessary praise.

"…Herr Spy reminds me of him a lot,” I admitted openly without much thought, expecting some form of laughter or strange look back.

But Misha held his smile and simply said, "Reason Doktor help Spy?"

…Reason? Ja, I suppose that is the reason why I want to help Spy…

Even when asked, I made no swift reply, lost in my own silence.

I soon heard the soft click of metal hitting wood, watching as Misha placed all he needed together on the countertop. He laid pieces of bread down before grabbing a knife he had set aside, picking up the recently washed tomato as the water shined its bright reddish skin. The sharp edge of the blade pierced through, liquid red juices spilling from the cut line before a small part of its body fell off, exposing its innards. And the knife continued, cutting the defenseless fruit apart.

The continuous squishing noise felt nostalgic, fixated on the sound of the metal hitting against wood with each cut.

So fragile…

So easily taken apart…

“My first kill vas on my birzhday.”

The sound stopped, Misha’s attention completely on me.

“Ze day I became an adult."

Yes… that was my first time killing a man…

On my birthday, I….

-̵̰̉— ̸ ̩̄

/̴͎͝-̸̊ͅ-̸̗̂/̵̬͝-̶̆ͅẗ̷̼h̴̲͊e̵̛͓ ̶͈͛h̷̠̆e̷̝̐ā̷̰l̴͎̆i̸̧͒n̵͖͝ǧ̵̲ ̸̺̀i̶̤̾s̸̤̕ ̵͇͝n̷̯͑o̸͖͠t̴͔͝ ̶͓̃a̴͈͑s̷̥͝ ̶̘̃r̸̳͌e̴͖̐w̴̟͗a̵̭͂r̵͕͒d̴̨͂i̴̦͝ṅ̴͔g̴̻̒ ̴̙̾ǎ̶͉s̶̗̚ ̵̻̓t̵͇́h̶͕̑e̴͠ͅ ̴̠̒h̴̬̕u̴͎͝r̸̡̛t̵̢͒ì̷͕n̴̥̓g̴͎̅-̵̮̓/̷̤́-̷͉͘-̶̩̓/̵̯̅-̸̱͐.̶̱̎.̸̱̒

— ̸ ̩̄

All I could do was just stand near the door, fear overwhelming me at the sight. The maid was on the ground, shot through the head as the blood spilled down her face, giving color to the white parts of her dress. My sight then slowly went to the noise further away. Vater’s friend knelt on the ground, grasping at his stomach, gasping and coughing, blood spilling down his side as it exposed a deep red from his uniform.

And Vater stood in front of him, gun in hand, pointing straight at his friend as the tip was smoking. Vater’s emotionless glare slowly turned to me, gun at his hip now. And he smiled, that smile showing hints of gentle warmth and care through his horrid demeanor.

“They were going to take you away,” his voice betrayed that warmth, rough and heavy, filled with utter spite. “I refused… I always refused but they kept persisting…” Vater started rambling when walking, instability in his legs with every step he took, coming closer to me.

I stood on the spot, completely frightened but worried just the same.

“Your father has messed up, Ludwig…”

And Vater came ever closer, hands reaching out for a hug.

“But neither one of us will have to suffer from this war any—"

Then another shot rang, a splattering of blood blinding my glasses. The sounds of Vater’s boots halted, hearing the squelching of blood pressed and a confused peep of laughter. Before I could even wipe the blood off, I felt something heavy start to press against me until I was forced onto the ground. My thoughts were blanking out, trying to rationalize everything going on until I felt warmth spilling from Vater’s chest onto my hand.

Warmth where Vater’s heart lay.

I was able to crawl out from beneath him, hurrying to wipe off the blood in a half-hearted effort. When I saw Vater was the one lying on the ground with his back up, I started shaking him in a panic. When no response was given, I was careful in turning him on his side to get a better look.

“Vater!” My voice was stuttering and frail, unable to keep myself in check as my heart was pumping for a far, terrible reason now.

He did not reply, eyes already cast in darkness, simply killed just like that. My head continued to shake, mouth agape to say words that refused to spill. When tears started to fall, I hurried my head into his shoulder, not wanting to show my weakness even at this moment.

“Ludwig!” Vater’s friend coughed aloud, bringing my cold sight on him. His body still slumped on the floor, a gun once fired lost from his grip, and further away. “You can still live a wonderful life… with your skills…!” He was babbling nonsense to me, acting like what he did was far from wrong. “Call for help, and I will give you a good word! You can do so much for the cause, young man, believe me!”

Believe…?

Vater is dead.

Vater’s heart is broken!

My blurred sight focused past Vater’s friend and at his table instead, walking over to witness an assortment of utensils he used during his many operations. The one object that interested me the most was a large bone-like saw settled within the mess.

Even with my wobbly legs and puffed eyes, I was able to grab it, holding it tightly in my hand as I loomed over Vater’s friend. He stared back, showing some semblance of emotion when a man such as him deserved nothing. He did not deserve to show it—he knows what he is—monsters like him do not deserve emotions!

I sat down next to him, placing the tip of the bone saw where his heart lay.

And I said, “I need your heart now.”

And I started cutting…

Cutting deeper…

And he screamed…

That made me cut deeper…

And he screamed more…

Until only the silence of metal cutting flesh remained…

Blood… Muscle… Bone…

Broken rib after rib… cutting deeper… cutting smoother…

I am a Doctor…

I can save people…

I can save Vater…

All I needed was this monster’s heart…

A new heart for Vater’s broken one…

Ah…

And I saw it…

Still beating even when the screaming stopped…

I pulled it out as carefully as I could…

It was so big in my hands…

So warm…

Something so warm did not deserve to be inside this monster…

I held the heart tightly, carefully bringing it to Vater.

“This is your new heart,” I said with a weary smile, showing off the heart that had already lost its beat. “It will bring you back… It is still warm—I just need to put it inside you.”

My hands are unable to stop shaking.

I am not a child anymore.

Only a child would do something so gruesome without realizing the consequences.

“And when you come back… I want to say so much to you. My feelings, my love.”

The heart fell from my hands, sat upon his chest, hands gripped tightly on his face now. Blood drenched his pale skin, giving it color again. The color of sweet, dark red.

“I have always loved you, Vater.”

My lips lay upon his, finally tasting Vater’s sweet honey for the first time.

— ̸ ̩̄

T̷͔̏h̵̬̓͆e̷̡̫̿̅ ̵̲̋̄ẖ̵̛̕u̶̺̦͐r̶̨̼͌t̵̘̘̅ị̴̅̃ń̴̦̜g̷̨̟̀ ̷̩̽i̸͖̓s̵̲̿͠ ̴̩͗̕n̵̖̠͘ŏ̴̬͗ť̷̗̮ ̷͈͑ä̴͓s̶̺͗͜ ̷̪̘̄̋r̴̟͋e̷̩͊́w̴̡̛͓ä̸̺̗́̕r̶̦̕d̸̠̦̀i̴͎͛͝n̴̡̉̉ģ̸͒̏ ̴̫͒͘a̸͖͐͂s̷̜͊ͅ ̷̺͓͒t̵̳̳͗̈h̷̞̬̕e̶̯͖̓ ̵̧̒͑h̵̨̛e̶̦̔a̸̱̒̈́ḻ̶̠͌͝i̷̳͕͒n̴̢͙̽g̷͙͓̑.̷̖̌

— ̸ ̩̄

A long beat of silence came between us.

Misha simply nodded, “Heavy understand…”

What nonsense—he does not understand a thing, just speaking out a polite lie. Still, I held my tongue, finding the conversation pleasant enough not to soil it with unneeded words. Though that dreadful silence held, the snapping of the knife not enough to drown it out.

"My Father did what he thought best,” Misha spoke again, keeping my thoughts in place. “Man who killed him had same thoughts, different motives.” His voice lowered, the snapping of the knife ceasing, grabbing a ball of lettuce next. "It was no good time for anyone. People scared.”

Misha looked at the lettuce, being gentle when picking a piece off. “Heavy became man like Doktor,” he admitted the same. “Not birthday. But day Heavy would have died. Many days Heavy would have died.” A small crackle as the lettuce was picked off without being torn. “Place was bad place. Not labor. Only death.” Another gentle pick with his fingers, taking an even smaller piece. “Heavy killed many men to protect family, just like Father. All with bare hands.” And like the same, that piece too was taken off without issue.

He laid the lettuce aside, stacking the sandvich together one piece at a time. “Heavy mad at man... but Heavy hold understanding on why Father was killed. Others would kill Heavy same.” And finally, when he was finished, he grabbed the knife again, letting it slice through the bread nice and smoothly, leaving no mess behind. Misha brought the plate over and placed it on the table.

"People not born bad, Doktor,” he gave his own admission, finally finished with all his needless rambling.

My annoyance grew from his foolish words, far from interested in our conversation now, "You have foolish judgment, Misha—do not start giving pity to ze enemy!"

"Heavy would never…” Misha started but stopped, letting that troublesome silence return.

Hungry took over in its place, grabbing one of the sandviches and taking a bite, letting my own chewing entertain me. Far is the sandvich doing anything at the moment, finding it tastes similarly bland like every other time—

"Doktor should stop."

I swallowed, head tilted slightly up.

Misha continued, "With Sniper.”

At first, I was confused, but then my smile returned when I took another bite.

Another swallow as I asked, "Are you jealous?"

"What?!” Misha bellowed quite loudly, scaring himself. “Het, Heavy no jealous!"

Some more laughter spilled from me, quite amused, "It is fine if you are—I knov you deeply care for me." Soon I calmed, taking another bite and explaining through my chewing, "Vhat Sniper and I do is completely business—far are ve in some sort of relationship nov, oho."

"Is not that!" Misha’s voice grew louder, sounding more agitated now.

I soon gulped, clearing my throat, “Your secret is safe vizh me, Misha. Zhere vould be no reason to tattle to ze ozhers zhat you like men—"

A sudden slam on my chair as Misha turned my seat around, the wooden stands skidding hard against the floor. His height greatly showed, a shadow over my entire being when looking upon me with a rare sight of rage and anger.

"Doktor not being good Doktor!" The volume of his voice made the plate next to us shake before ceasing in noise. The half-eaten sandvich was still in my hand when I ate, placing it carefully back down on the plate while holding my stern gaze on him. He realized quickly how much he was exposing his anger, letting off my chair and taking a step back, head hung to the side, ashamed to look at me properly anymore. "Doktor should not do such things,” his tone returned to normal, if a little hoarse from previous use.

"It is his choice,” I replied coldly, readjusting my seat the way it was before, taking my sight off to finish the rest of my meal.

“…Heavy no believe that."

My hands froze, mouth hung when I had yet to take another bite.

And when I settled my lips together, I answered with a harsh, “Oh?” The sandvich was dropped on the plate, and I rose from my seat, taking a careful step closer towards Misha.

There was a loud squeak of gloves, Misha's fists tightening before opening again.

"Vhat do you believe zhan?"

"Heavy no mean anything bad!" He tried to excuse himself, watching as I approached closer.

"Nien! No, no, no, no, ohoho, do tell me!" I reassured, smiling oh so giddily at him. "If you do not believe zhis is not Herr Sniper's choice, zhan what are you implying to me, Misha?” I continued to question the more he refused to respond. “Zhat I am forcing zhis medication on him? Making him kneel in front of me to suck my cock for pleasure?!"

More and more, I got into Misha’s space, his back hitting against the counter table as he grabbed at it for leverage.

"It is a mere exchange of goods we agreed upon! Sniper is more zhan welcome to valk avay from zhis!"

Even when getting right in front of Misha, he would not look at me, mouth unable to form a word even in his native tongue—the answer is obvious, is it not?!

"I am his Doctor, Misha! I take care of my patients, not hurt zhem! So please kindly tell me vhat YOU believe I am doing to Herr Sniper if not helping him?!”

…

Nothing.

Misha held in his silence, the flickering of the bulb above giving me more recognition than him now. Only when I grew tired of waiting did I step back, finding myself unable to look at him either.

"I am heading to bed,” was all I said, leaving the unfinished meal for him to deal with later.

Chapter 15: Mick

Chapter Text

The empty room we were in was far too quiet, lacking any other semblance of life to rudely interrupt my work. Nothing but two chairs, a small cart with supplies, and a lightbulb hanging above to give us light in this eerie space of nothingness.

I carefully threaded the needle against the fragile skin, treading dangerous ground as the wound was close to a vital part of his being. His face always felt so naked without those large orange aviators. And I was looking at it so closely, a hint of irritation with each pinch being the only thing he exposed. A long cut from the edge of his nose to his ear, recently sliced over by a sharp, slim knife.

Yes… It was always that knife.

Somehow, it was always that particular brand of knife.

Small droplets of blood slid down the side of his face, gently washing it to prevent infection. But when I went to pull away, I felt the firm grasp of his hand grab my wrist, stilling on his hurt cheek. When my eyes met his, he now exposed outright embarrassment, and hurt.

Like I just hurt him.

It was ridiculous—I am helping him, not hurting him.

Because I am his doctor.

A good doctor.

I am a good doctor.

I am—

—

“Doc…?”

My focus returned, finding my surroundings had changed yet again, inside that disgusting camper of Sniper’s now. And Sniper was kneeling in front of me, my gloved hand on his cheek, his own hands in the middle of unbuckling my pants. When my thumb moved slightly, it exposed that similar scar—near the right side of his cheek, from the tip of his nose and to the caress of skin around his ear’s helix.

…I cannot recall why he has that scar now.

…

…It does not matter—we are here in his van because of another exchange, that is how it goes.

When my eyes met Sniper’s, I found him staring, far more confused than anything else.

...His position is far too shameful—if we are to do this right, he should be next to me, not on his knees.

My hand pulled back, and I demanded, “Come sit vith me.”

Sniper held his confusion but slowly did what I asked, settling next to me on the couch in quite an awkward manner, unsure of what to do. My arm came forward and around his neck, bringing him closer so my lips touched his. A light peck at first to make him understand, pressing a longer one to take in his flavor. Again, he has drunk more of that harsh coffee, and it is disgusting every time I taste it.

“Mnh—Doc, what are—?” Sniper tried to say, pulling away, only for me to bring him back in.

"Ve are in your van,” I panted between breaks. “Ve can make as much noise as ve vant.

A throaty groan vibrated up his mouth and into mine, finally taking in my taste the more we kissed. Another break, lips apart mere inches, hot air hitting against our chins. I got a good look at his face, the tiredness showing through the bags under his eyes. The hint of unshaven stubble showed neglect or forgetfulness, threatening to grow if not taken care of. And I could tell from the slight mess in his hair that he had been lazy in washing it properly.

It was all lacking in any motivation!

And nostalgic…

"You are quite a handsome man, Mick,” I praise in his ear. Mick was taken aback, quite surprised to hear his name mentioned. Such a reaction made me smile, "You do not mind me calling you by your name, ja?" And he only answered back by rudely looking away—that is fine. I am a good doctor—a good doctor would never get mad at their patient over something so small.

"Oho,” I chuckled. “Bozh handsome and shy."

The pressure around his neck was taken off, running my hands down his shirt, feeling the subtle muscle hidden underneath. Lower I went, reaching to his abdomen before my hand was gripped, stopping from going further. Such a reaction was peculiar, looking down… Oh, he was already hard. Kissing alone made him this aroused—perhaps he did not lie in his lack of experience.

“Ohoho,” another chuckle, very amused. “Are you hard? Hov cute…”

Mick’s sight still held away, obviously embarrassed. At least his face was showing the side with that scar, my other hand reaching out to touch him again. His head jerked slightly, taking the touch even through the rubber. It must feel unpleasant either way, careful in freeing my arm from his grip as I proceeded to take my gloves off. I only stopped at the second when I saw bandages around my wound, hesitant to continue. But such hesitation did not last long, throwing both gloves aside, bandaged hand on his face whilst the other sat upon his arousal, rubbing gently. His body shuddered at my touch, quiet in his breathing as he took in the warmth. The bulge within twitched through the cloth, reminding of his well-endowed features.

“Perhaps ve need anozher check on your libido,” I said, a bit mindless in my words, truly fascinated in seeing what was underneath. So, I got off the couch, taking his place by kneeling in front of him, unbuckling and sliding off his pants and underwear. His cock sprang right in front of my face in a slight curve, lacking any shame compared to Mick’s nervous frown and flushed face. There was nothing to be ashamed of—arousal is healthy for a man his age, no matter the source.

My bandaged hand wrapped around the base of his cock, my mouth sinking closer and kissing the length. My tongue slid up before settling at the tip, lips around the head, popping off with broken strings of saliva following. This motion repeated, stopping at the tip once more, only to lower down to swallowing his cock. I was able to hit halfway before pulling back to the tip—it is far too much to take properly.

"Mmh,” My throat gargled through the sucking, struggling as I was not too accustomed to such a role. The subpar performance did not seem to bother Mick, his cock twitching against my throat, the subtle taste of his release soon approaching.

A firm hand went on my shoulder, grasping the cloth and trying to pull me away.

“Doc, can’t…!” Mick spat a warning, lips pursed to prevent himself from moaning any further.

I ignored him, dipping faster, letting my own moans gargle out as I force myself to take just a bit more—there was no reason to make a mess when I could just swallow.

“Aa…!” Mick’s hips soon jittered upwards, his warming release quickly filling my mouth, small droplets spilling from the edges of my lips. I felt unable to breathe throughout, the amount never ending as I swallowed the best I could. Once he finished, I steadily slurped up, mixing what little essence I was able to save with my spit for taste. A bit clumpy and thick… he could use some more water in his diet if he is dehydrated.

Mick slumped where he sat, panting quietly with his eyes closed. I looked upon his cock, not yet dead after coming as it stood straight up. The sight truly enthralled me, swallowing even when there was nothing left in my mouth to taste.

"You should get a turn,” I blurted, barely letting my thoughts follow with my talking anymore. Mick opened his tired eyes, still in a heated state of ecstasy to understand what I meant. My motions were on autopilot, searching through my coat, trying to find the necessary material needed… Oh, I must have forgotten the condoms.

…

We do not need them.

So, I stood, a subtle click to my boots when shadowing over him. And my coat was the first to fall to the floor, soon stripping everything off in front of him besides my shoes and socks. That moment was possibly the most I have ever seen him express himself, truly at awe at the sight—how flattering, but I am far too old to be such an amazement.

When he continued to just sit there, I stepped aside to sit on the other end of the couch, spreading myself openly at him. I sucked upon my fingers, not caring of the taste of gauze and adhesive coating—any form of lubrication would have to make due. Wetted fingers slid down, pressing against my anus, flinching at the rough entry before feeling more flabby flesh.

Mick—while more than happy to watch me strip—was too ashamed to watch me please myself, letting his ears give him the illusion of what was happening.

I cannot remember the last time I even did this... Hm, have I done this before?

…My memory must be getting bad.

But I know enough where my prostate is, having done plenty of fingering in past self-pleasuring.

“Ah…” And such pressure to my prostate made my knees jolt, whining from the pleasure when pressing even harder. That in turn got Mick to react, his head shifted slightly for one eye to peek over and watch. I indulged in the feeling and his watching, soon pulling my fingers out, spit following suit. The bandages started to expose the stitched scarring of my hand, falling apart as it draped down my arm.

When Mick lacked motivation to make a move, I came crawling over instead, settling on his lap, cocks pressed together. Another muttered moan spewed from Mick, rubbing against his cock, wetting my own with the leftover semen and spit. I finally raised my behind, lining up to the head of his cock to my entrance, rubbing against that as well.

His worry showed through his twitchy eyes and slightly open mouth, not able to spill the words without letting another moan escape.

"It is fine—ve are bozh clean,” I explained quickly before sinking down. "Mhn...!" A shaky moan escaped my throat, feeling the initial pressure from the tip before sliding further, not truly anticipating the length until halfway through. My legs shook from the feeling, unable to take any more as they locked in place. I am acting unprofessional—so embarrassing.

Mick’s hands touched my thighs, looking at me with a bit of uncertainty. All I gave was a slow blink back and low exhale, waiting to see if he finished the rest. And he did, pushing me down harder than I expected, feeling his cock straight through my colon. My head tilted upward, mouth slightly agape from the sudden pressure spreading me apart and hitting untouched areas.

"So—Sorry! Yah a'right, Doc?” Mick’s voice was in a slight panic, like he had just done something wrong. It was quite painful, but that pain turned into delicious joy as I smiled. My head tilted back down, hands on his face, caressing the scar so lovingly against my own.

“Don’t be so formal,” I said in a long breath, eyes locked onto his. “My name is Ludwig… Call me that.” Our lips met again when I started bouncing upon him. Skin hit skin, the weight of us making the cushions of the couch start to misshapen.

"Nhh...! Ahh,” Mick moaned, unable to stop the noises when our mouths parted.

Ahh… it is so large—it would have felt similar, so filled and stretched apart. Mick is perfect—his cock is perfect for this!

All my careless movements made the pain all the more pleasurable, seeing how far I could pull out before exhausting made me smack down, filled all over again. My haze of lust was halted when Mick suddenly grabbed a hold of my waist mid-pull, trying to stop me from dropping.

"Nnh... Doc, wait—again...!” Mick warned, panting like he was on the brink of his second release. And all I did was hold my smile, ignoring his warning as I snapped down hard on his cock, moving against the weight, faster, messier.

Mick's hips bucked upward, feeling his warmth flow through me, large cock buried deep and pulsing. He is coming so much… to have such precious fluid wasted when it is so healthy and fertile.

His body sank deeper into the cushion, panting, exhausted. And I was the same, the pulling done slowly, semen spilling and exposing his drenched cock in white. My body flopped to its side, legs open for him to witness the mess he made below. Mick, this time, could not keep his tired eyes off, watching as more of his semen spilled below. He then came closer, which I did not expect, truly taken aback by how much taller he was when over me.

“Yah haven’t come yet,” he mentioned, tiredness in his voice.

…Ja, I suppose it should be fair—this was an exchange after all.

We are doing this because of his medication…

The lacking response made him hesitate before gently wrapping his fingers around my cock, his other hand near my entrance as he rubbed against the abused skin, previous essence making it slick to the touch. His fingers were wet enough with the semen alone, pushing one in. I whined, feeling the pleasures of his hands rub and fuck me with teasing curiosity.

“De—Deeper—do not hesitate…!” My whining quickly turned into complaining, wanting him to stop being so passive already. Mick was a quick learner, pushing another finger in deeper, hitting the right spot after a few more experimental thrusts. “Ahha…! Oh Gott…!” I could not help but spout out such raunchy moaning, the sensations that longed for his cock’s warmth being satisfied with his fingers alone now.

My release was harsh and sudden, spilling heavy globs of dormant semen all over my stomach, continuously making a further mess. And when I had nothing more to spill, Mick pulled out below, a cue of a wet pop followed by a slick sound of sticky liquid breaking apart. My shaky arms came forward when Mick was about to move away, hugging around his neck to bring our faces closer. He gave me a stupid stare of uncertainty, halting everything he was doing.

Not enough.

“Mick.” My voice was heavy, throat sour from overuse. “I am not satisfied… Are you?”

Not enough.

The tiny beads of his pupils bloated out, completely enthralled with my senseless begging. And in return, he planted his own kiss on my shoulder, eager to continue in the pleasuring, groping my pectoral muscles and grabbing what little flesh he was able to. And I smiled, holding him, seeing how much livelier he was—how much life stirred within him.

Ja… this is what a good Doctor would do to their patient—I am helping Mick…

He will get better because of me…

…

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YanYan (ToyaFF)

Summary:

Notes:

Chapter 1: Cuckoo

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Drugs

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Chapter 3: Piano

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Chapter 4: Little Bird

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Chapter 5: W E A K N E S S

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Chapter 6: Exchange

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Chapter 7: Kretin

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Chapter 8: [Negative]/Positive

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Chapter 9: Schadenfreude

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Chapter 10: Tea

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Chapter 11: Crocodile

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Chapter 12: Door

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Chapter 13: Medication

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Chapter 14: Heart

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Chapter 15: Mick

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Chmonyah on Chapter 1 Mon 31 Mar 2025 12:34PM UTC

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ToyaFF on Chapter 1 Mon 31 Mar 2025 02:00PM UTC

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mimimeow02 on Chapter 1 Thu 03 Apr 2025 06:16PM UTC

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ToyaFF on Chapter 1 Thu 03 Apr 2025 06:55PM UTC

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mimimeow02 on Chapter 2 Tue 20 May 2025 10:21PM UTC

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