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Over-the-Counter Medicine (79)

1 .

I tried writing a Spy x Medic hatefuck. I don't think it's that good but I posted it anyway. (and LOL sorry I can't think of titles)


Spy only showed signs of hesitation once his hand brushed over the doorknob. He considered returning to his room, since almost everyone else had gone to bed already. Thankfully he had only bumped into a few teammates while lazily meandering around; he told Sniper he was getting fresh air and that the bushman should go hole himself back up in his van were he wouldn’t have to see him again, and he didn’t have to tell Demoman anything because he was still sprawled drunkenly over the kitchen table, where he had been hours ago. He was very tempted to light a cigarette now, but the smoke would undoubtedly drift under the door and the man would know Spy was lurking outside.

Maybe it would have been easier to wound himself; that would give him an excuse to enter the office without looking like a fool who had no reason for being there. However, he did not plan in advance, and in fact just shoved the feeling away to focus on his work, so now the only reason he came up with for being here was that something at dinner upset his stomach, something a child was more likely to complain about instead of a grown man. Nothing he ate hurt his stomach, but he could feel it churning in sync with him turning the knob. Maybe he could throw out all his plans and cloak himself, then hide behind his chair until the man was tired and ready to turn in for the night, but what a dirty trick that would be! He was more of a gentleman than that… although this entire situation was easily crossing the line. His dignity and his urges were running circles around his head, conflicting with one another as he tried to grasp onto one solid plan of action that wasn’t loaded with primitive sin. Finally, he decided. It was now or never. He shouldered open the door and crept inside.

The Medic’s office was a dingy, musty room on the far end of the building. Why it wasn’t in the middle, where the wounded could access him easily, he didn’t know, but he did know the Medic was a crazy bastard and probably didn’t care. Spy suddenly realized that wounding himself really would have been better, because the doctor would have came to him immediately with his crazy bloodlust and crazy look in his eyes and examined the wound with fascination rather than the intent to help. The doctor, instead, looked up with disinterest from his desk in the corner of the corner room, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Ah, Herr Spy,” He said, looking back down at a document in front of him. “Vhat can I do for you?”
Spy hesitated again. He took a few steps towards the desk. “I… ‘ave a stomach pain. I think it was zhe food Soldier made tonight.” He winced at the horrible excuse, anything to get Medic to come over and make this horrible plan easier on him.

“Do not vorry, Herr Spy. I had zhe same food, and I am fine.” He scribbled something on the document, and hadn’t looked up again yet. Spy made a silent, irritable sigh and slipped closer like a hungry eel.
“Non, Doctor, I do not feel good. I do not want it interfering with my work tomorrow.”
“Respawn vill take care of it.” Medic obviously wasn’t concerned.

Spy hadn’t planned him to turn him away so bluntly, but he hadn’t planned any of this, really. He really could come back later, why couldn’t he just wait a few more days? He could get on the doctor’s side then, he could even subtly flirt during the lulls on the battlefield, and have him thoroughly treat his wounds at night, to get them used to each other’s bodies, and to make this easier for both of them. His new plans quickly faded, however, when Medic finally looked up.

“Herr Spy, if you don’t mind, I have zome work I need to finish right now. I trust you know your vay out.”
Spy felt his composure slip, and his eyebrow twitched. It was true that the doctor disliked him greatly, next to Scout, so he trashed his smoother plan. There was no way Medic was going to let him do something as atrocious as this with his consent.

Spy stepped forward until he was leaning over the desk. The German still hadn’t looked up. In a quick flash of anger, Spy snatched the document from him and tossed it over his shoulder. Medic looked up and his eyes gleamed dangerously as well, but Spy did not blink, and made no effort to get the piece of paper back.

“Vhat are you doing, Spy? Pick that up!” He growled, feeling over his desk for a small surgical blade he kept nearby. The Frenchman reached for his own blade, drew it, and pointed it threateningly at the doctor, who was surprised by this sudden outburst.
“Come ‘ere, doctor…” He said, his voice filled with lust, as well as regret. Medic did not budge.

Spy was the first to move, trying to weasel his way around the doctor without really harming him. The Medic slashed at him wildly, but Spy had more experience in knife fights, and deflected many of the blows. Medic had made a hard swing that Spy quickly grabbed, yanking his arm up while slithering behind him. He twisted his arm until he dropped the surgical tool, and Spy wasted no time in pushing him down against the desk. Medic gasped at the sudden pain of his stomach hitting the wood, and the sudden pleasure of his groin hitting the rim of it. Spy kept his arm firmly pressed against his back, and leaned in closer to keep his thrashing body still.

“Sorry, doctor. It really isn’t personal.” He admitted, his other hand unzipping his fly and working on getting Medic’s pants down. “But it ‘as been too long since I’ve ‘ad this…”

2 .

Hooray, new content! Stopped just as it was getting good, so I do hope there will be more.

If I may offer some friendly criticism: you might want to edit a bit, or have someone (like me) give it a second look before you publish, just so you can avoid sentences like "his crazy bloodlust and crazy look in his eyes." Also, I think you must be female, since otherwise you'd have cock-knocked yourself on the edge of a desk before now, and you'd know the feeling isn't sexy.

All that aside, you've got to know that I enjoy the realism of Spy going "this is a terrible plan, this is a stupid plan, ah, merde, I'm going with it anyway, I'm horny."

3 .

What >>2 said; I did a double-take when I saw the word 'pleasure' in the same sentence as 'groin hitting ___.' That's never fun.
Painful experiences aside, there's a smattering of comma spam, but I like it so far. Keep going!

4 .

Thank you for the tips guys! I don't write much of this stuff so sorry for the whole groin thing.

Marty, I will email you the next part if that's okay :)

5 .

Oh boy
Thanks TeratoMarty for critiquing this part! I appreciate it.


Medic began searching frantically for his scalpel, hoping that it had fallen on the desk. His heart sank when he saw it laying only a few feet from them, in a small puddle of Spy’s blood. Even though the doctor had gotten a few good cuts in, the other man was undisturbed by them. In fact, he seemed more upset that his suit had been ripped, and paused for a moment to inspect the damage. It would have to wait. Medic was trying to yank his arm away again, but in his position Spy had the advantage. He tried to kick out Spy’s knee, and would have succeeded if Spy hadn’t gripped his hair and slammed his face into the desk, momentarily stunning him. He then got a good grip on Medic’s pants and quickly yanked them down to his knees, pressing himself up on his exposed ass. The doctor’s face flushed intensely, and he squirmed so much that Spy had to lay on top of him to keep him from moving, and had to part his legs with his knees so he couldn’t kick anymore.

“Spy, vhy vould you do this…?” He whispered hoarsely, although the hostility had not left his voice. Realizing how trapped he really was, Medic began to sweat, and a look of shame crossed his features that the other man barely saw. Spy did not say anything, but his face was resting in the crook of his neck, and the doctor could hear him breathing heavily. He had both of their underwear down, but wasn’t doing anything else. He had never done this with a man; the thought had never occurred to him since he could get almost any woman he wanted, and he was disgusted that he had dropped to this level. Raping a teammate? How could he look his own reflection in the eyes, let alone anyone else’s? Surely Medic also longed for pleasure after tiring days on the godforsaken battlefield... As long as the doctor didn’t say anything to anyone afterwards, it might be okay. They could both just forget this. It was just a one-time thing to relieve them both of their urges, that was all.

Spy used this as justification to start. He was so anxious that he almost forgot that he needed lube, so he looked around the desk hurriedly for something to substitute. As he expected, there was nothing. Bringing his free, shaky hand to his mouth, he spit on his palm, and stroked his cock with it. Medic was trembling as well when Spy finished poorly lubricating himself, and he jerked forward violently as Spy pressed the tip to the doctor’s entrance forcibly, ready to get this over with. Medic reflexively pressed as far away as he could into the desk, but Spy was pressing inside him already, slowly pushing and pulling, trying to go deeper with every thrust. There was way too much resistance, and Spy considered himself even more of an idiot for not bringing lube, judging by the way the doctor was completely tense and sweating on the table. He was in some sort of shock, clutching the other edge of the table with his free hand, and his forehead pressed on the wood to hide himself. He bit his lip hard and tears pooled in his eyes, but he wouldn’t dare let Spy see it.

In an act of mercy, Spy quickly released his grip on the Medic’s twisted arm and moved it down to his cock. It was limp, which the Frenchman almost thought was odd, considering how sadistic the German seemed. Well, inflicting pain on an enemy was one thing, but receiving this kind of pain from someone you trusted was entirely different. Spy winced, but wrapped his hand around Medic’s cock, running his thumb down it soothingly. The Medic was still frozen, his body eerily cold, but Spy could feel him reacting positively to his touch. His thumb brushed over the tip, and the doctor finally moved, twitching slightly. His expression was something disgraced, and now that he had both hands free, he pressed his arms against the sides of his face in anguish. Spy ignored this, steadily pumping the Medic’s cock while still thrusting into him until both actions were synced. Spy released his first audible moan and flushed, embarrassed. He didn’t like how he turned so primitive and uncontrolled during sex, in contrast to how he was on the battlefield, but what the hell. He moaned again against Medic’s ear. Despite what he predicted, he was enjoying himself. This was much better than his many nights of lonely, silent masturbation. Even though Medic wasn’t showing it, Spy assured himself that the doctor was feeling the same way.

After a few minutes, Spy knew he was getting close to orgasm. He wanted to drag it out longer, but the doctor had hardly loosened up even though he was bleeding; any more of this could cause lasting damage. One of his hands gripped the desk hard, while the other still jerked off Medic much faster than before. Medic was panting heavily, but Spy felt him still trembling and sweating from trauma under him. His hand that was gripping the desk moved up hesitantly towards Medic’s forehead, wiping some of his sweat-soaked hair back in an effort to soothe him. His hand on his cock moved faster, hurriedly, as Spy thrust deeper. In a few seconds he felt himself tumbling over the edge, and his back arched as he went stiff. Spy let out a breathy hum while emptying into Medic, who made no sound, only buckled his knees a bit.

Spy didn’t pull out since the doctor hadn’t come yet. He lazily returned to stroking his cock underneath the desk, but Medic resisted.
“Doctor, please, I can make this better for you…” he mumbled, his own legs ready to collapse after experiencing the best orgasm he’d had in months. “If… if you don’t like me, I can be anyone else. I could even be Heavy –“

“Nein…” The doctor said after a brief silence. “I-I hate you… and everyzhing you pretend to be.” His voice was raw, but it didn’t break, and Spy felt his face pale. He pulled out, taking a small step back to see what Medic would do, but he did nothing. Spy stood there for a moment with his pants still down while Medic lay on the desk before Spy regained his dignity and pulled his pants back up. There was no point trying to get the doctor to feel the bliss Spy felt anymore. If he stuck around longer he would probably be hacked to pieces, tortured, or some other horrible thing the insane German could think of. But, Medic still lay on the desk, not making much of an effort to redress or relieve himself of the boner he pretended wasn’t there.

Spy finally turned his head in disgust. There was no way to make up for what he had just done. The best thing he could do for Medic right now was to leave, so he slinked back towards the door.
“Sorry,” he murmured, barely opening the door and squeezing through. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and shuffled back down the hall in shame.

6 .

The Spy's conflicted emotions and unromantic rape definitely make this a lot more interesting to read than a typical non-con fic. It will be interesting to see where you take this!

7 .

I really really like this story so far. The way you describe the reactions and such really keep me reading. And remorse after non-con is usually hard to come by, which is also a bonus.

Please, do continue!

8 .


I think remorse before, during, and after non-con is practically nonexistant!

9 .

You write a very passionate and remourseful Spy. I like it. Acting on what he wants, but then regretting taking it. Beautiful writing.

10 .

This is very interesting: Spy having ZERO experience with men, terrible desperation, lack of restraint, and feeling guilty for acting on bad impulses.

11 .

i like this story a lot! cant wait for the next installment to see how this progresses.

It seems like Spy had this sort of fantasy made up in his mind that he could make medic like it too but when its sort of shoved in his face that he was wrong and what he did was an unforgivable act, he is shocked by it. spy must have been pretty desperate to have come up with a strong enough fantasy to justify it in his mind.

Still will keep an eye out for this update! i do have one small critique...towards the end when you wrote "or relieve himself of the boner he pretended wasn’t there" the word Boner sorta stuck out in a rather ugly way. i think in a more serious story that word just does not have much of a place in it. other then that i loved it! pleas update again soon!

12 .

oh this made me happy. Mostly because it was actual rape, and not "rape but then consensual sex lol" which always jives me. Well, to be fair, there is a lot of good rape fics here, but the other ones tend to be of the brainwashing kind. That's all well and good, but it's nice to see this angle taken as well.

I'd like to see this updated, or even a new story when this runs dry. Despite that one groin mistake in the first part (which you probably don't need brought up again), you have a good handle of sex. I'd like to see how you handle foreplay, actually.

13 .

Wow guys, thanks for the feedback!! I don't know how much longer this story will last but here's a boring update for you.


The past few days had been messy for the team, to say the least. Whenever someone called for Medic, he rarely budged from his position behind Heavy, lumbering along even slower than the large Russian man. Some people, like the observant Sniper and Pyro, had seen Medic limping out from Respawn, which puzzled them because Respawn always churned them out good as new. Once he even bludgeoned their Scout with his Bonesaw when he came running up and crying in his face for a doctor who “wasn’t a complete bonehead.”

The team saw the Spy even less, however. He had no jeers or negative comments for his comrades while waiting behind the gates during Setup, and immediately after dying and appearing in Respawn, he cloaked himself until he was out of sight from both teams. The other classes were puzzled by the strange behavior from Medic and Spy, but no one mentioned it, not even Scout, who didn’t want to wake up in Respawn again feeling like his skull was still split open. It was only when the week had ended that anyone had seen Medic make an effort to get out and heal other teammates. His face seemed more hardened than before, and he acted more on his short temper, his patience wearing thin even with the Heavy. By unfortunate chance, while following Heavy to a control point, he had been picked off by a Sniper, and found himself standing in Respawn for a few seconds when Spy materialized by him. Spy rubbed his stomach where an enemy Demoman gutted him before realizing Medic was standing nearby, and his expression darkened. Pretending not to notice him, he slinked outside along the fence, making his way towards enemy lines. The doctor hesitated, but slowly began to follow. Right as Spy was pulling out his watch to cloak himself, the Medic turned his Medigun on him, basking him in a red glow. The Frenchman turned around with a scowl, not wanting his disguise to be ruined, but it was too late. The enemy Scout came flying by, wielding his bat, and smacked Spy across the face with a sickening pop. Before he could do the same to Medic, he was already running back to the Respawn room. Now, when he wasn’t following Heavy around, he was silently stalking Spy – an interesting change of roles for the man who prided himself on being as sneaky as possible – and ruining his backstab attempts. Each time Spy returned to Respawn, he grew more and more furious. The doctor just wouldn’t go away, both in the battlefield and in his mind. When the day was over and ceasefire was called, he wearily slumped past the kitchen, not bothering to get any food since his stomach couldn’t handle it anyway.

Spy noticed his hands were clammy and warm, so he stepped outside into the cool night air and shakily lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply, relishing the soothing nicotine invading his lungs. But why couldn’t Medic have relished in his invasion as well? Spy shut his eyes hard; every time he had a neutral thought, it was horribly twisted into something involving the goddamned doctor. Now Spy began to wonder if HE was a victim here, having to suffer the constant barrage of a guilty conscious, infecting his mind and body and ability to properly do his job. He leaned back against the wooden wall, a sudden flood of exhaustion washing over him. He should probably just go to sleep, maybe if he got good rest he could handle Medic tomorrow with a better attitude… and outrun him. He lazily scanned the desert landscape, reflecting how nature, even the simple brush scattered throughout the sand, could calm anybody. The stars were bright out here in the country, and he enjoyed the view, since he rarely had the opportunity to see this in the city.

However, a sharp crack split the calm air and Spy jumped, recognizing it as the sound of one of Sniper’s rifles. He knew the bushman retired to his van early every night, and wondered why he would need to use his gun at this hour – Spy hadn’t seen any animals during his smoke. Curiously, he crept towards the van, half expecting to find Medic nearby, spooking Sniper or plotting to attack Spy, or some other ridiculous thing. He cautiously stepped into the light coming from the windows of the van, and considered knocking on the door to see if Sniper was all right. Even though he didn’t like the primitive, piss-throwing Australian, he at least had enough respect for his teammates to make sure they were not in danger. Well… what a joke to say he still had respect after what he did. Nonetheless, he raised his hand to knock, and Sniper came strolling around the corner of the van, surprised to find Spy of all people approaching his door. He held his gun loosely; whatever he was shooting at was gone now.

“Coyote,” He said bluntly, without waiting for Spy to ask. He climbed the few steps to the door of his van and slipped inside, leaving Spy in the same pool of light under the window. He sighed in relief and rubbed his arm sheepishly. He didn’t leave, though. In fact, he was almost worried about what would happen if he returned to his room. Would Medic be there waiting? He had been much more aggressive towards Spy all day, and he didn’t think it was out of the question that Medic was planning ways to torture him. Even though Spy always kept his door locked and the windows covered, it wouldn’t be hard for the doctor to get him while he slept. He shuddered at the thought, combined with the cool breeze drifting around the van, and rubbed his arms again. He was at a stalemate on what to do for a few minutes, before Sniper cracked open the door again. He peeked out and looked at Spy with a mix of confusion and annoyance on his face.

“Whatre’ya still doin’ here, mate?” He asked, stepping outside. His gun was replaced with a bottle of beer. Spy pinched the bridge of his nose and wanted to disappear, but he didn’t know where to disappear to. Sniper noticed his distress and sat down on the steps, popping off the cap of his drink and sipping it.
“Sorry,” Spy mumbled. He knew he was interrupting Sniper’s time alone, but no one had spoken to him since his incident with Medic, and he wasn’t ready to return to solitude just yet. They both waited in awkward silence, not used to being in each other’s company without insulting one another.

“D’ya wanna beer?” Sniper finally asked.
Spy shook his head. “Non.” He crossed his arms against his chest and leaned back against the van. Somewhere along the way he dropped his cigarette, so he took out another.
“What were you ‘n the Medic doin’ today?”
Spy almost dropped his new cigarette and turned to stare at Sniper. “What do you mean?” His breath caught in his throat and he feared Sniper knew more than he was letting on.
“Even with ‘im healin’ you, you still managed to get killed more than th’ rest of us combined!” He smiled a little, hoping that Spy would take it as a lighthearted poke rather than a hurtful insult. Spy made a face instead, embarrassed that the Sniper probably saw him constantly being discovered and killed through his rifle’s scope.

“The goddamn doctor will not leave me alone.” He blurted out, and brought his hand back to his face to take a long inhale from he cigarette. “I… don’t know why.” He lied.
Sniper sipped his drink again. “Maybe you should go tell ‘im to piss off,” He smirked. Spy’s expression remained serious, and Sniper frowned. “Really, just go tell ‘im.” He looked back at the mouth of his bottle as the awkward silence returned.

Spy pushed himself off the wall and threw the cigarette butt into the dirt. He brushed off his suit, leaving Sniper lingering for a response. “Thanks,” He muttered, nodding and dismissing himself. Sniper rolled his eyes as he watched him return inside the building. “Bloody Spook.”

Spy made his way down the now-dark hallway, relieved that most of his teammates had finished eating and left for bed. He approached his room and silently walked inside. As much as he wanted to stay awake longer to keep an eye out for Medic, he was exhausted. He tossed his gun and watch on the nightstand, but always kept his knife on him, in case he needed it. Spy sat back on the bed and started undoing the buttons to his suit, shrugging it off and pausing to decide if he should hang it up so it wouldn’t wrinkle, or if he should even care anymore. In the brief silence he suddenly heard the sound of someone else breathing. Spy froze up and his eyes darted around the corners of the room, until they came upon a shape hidden beside the door.

“Ah, Herr Spy. I was vondering when you vould notice.”

14 .

Why did you end it there?! WHY?!

15 .

Oooooh. Suspenseful. I don't know why, but I enjoyed his interactions with Sniper, in how he kind of got advice for the wrong situation. Heheh, dunno why.

16 .

MOAR. Please, oh please.

17 .

This sort of non-con usually isn't my cup of tea, but you write the psychological torment spy is going through so well I can't turn away. You have a very unique tone to your syntax that really stands out to me though I can't put a finger on exactly how you managed it. I eagerly await the next installment.

Also, if there is one thing you know how to do exceptionally well, it is amazing, suspenseful, and annoying cliffhangers. I mean it lightheartedly of course. It's only annoying for the people who want more of the story, and with a story that has both content and good writing like yours, that's quite a high percentile. Keep up the good work!

18 .

I'm actually quite fond of this story so far and, honestly, not for the sex.
The way you handle the emotional aspects of it is just right and I respect that you aren't writing a story about rape that turns into love. Keep it up, I'm looking forward to more explorations of guilt and internal turmoil.

19 .

Write more, and I will love you forever.

20 .

I'm not sure how much more I'll write of this story. Any suggestions for making this one not stale, or another story?
Anyway I'm unsure about this part, but I hope you like it!


Medic strolled out towards Spy with a new air of confidence. Spy ran his hand over his knife but didn’t move up from the bed, curious to see what Medic would want. Hopefully he only wanted to talk about what happened and resolve their silent tension… maybe he would even forgive him. The Frenchman stood up slowly, cautiously, keeping his eyes glued to the other like a hawk. When they were within arm’s length of one another, Spy opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as Medic gripped his chin with a gloved hand. In a flash, Spy pulled out his knife, pressing it against the doctor’s throat in warning.

“Stop deluding yourself,” Medic hissed, not phased by Spy’s threat. “You cannot say anyzhing that would make me hate you less.” He caught a brief glimpse of Spy’s composure faulting, and used it to bring his other hand up, pushing Spy’s blade away from his throat. Spy tried to retaliate but Medic was prepared, and he pulled out his own knife, stabbing Spy’s hand as he swung back to slash the doctor. Spy howled, but Medic covered his mouth quickly, throwing his weight against him and pinning him to the mattress with the blade stuck in his hand. The pain was unimaginable! Spy flexed his fingers to try to pull his hand away, but the knife would not give, and he only made the wound spurt blood across the sheets. He snarled madly and found the knife on the bed with his other hand; fortunately he had trained himself how to fight ambidextrously. He did not hesitate to stab towards Medic’s chest, but the man dodged and grabbed his arm, twisting his hand until he dropped the knife. He snatched it up in one hand, then removed a syringe from his pocket with his other hand while Spy frantically tried to come up with a plan.

When he saw the syringe, the first thing he thought of was that he needed to get Medic off of him, or at least get the syringe out of his hand. He brought his leg up and kicked the doctor hard in the chest; he groaned hoarsely but held himself steady while Spy tried to push him off. Before he could get his other leg up, Medic stabbed him in the thigh with the syringe. Spy swore loudly in French, now resisting the doctor’s efforts to pin his legs down.
“Zhe more you move, zhe faster it works,” Medic grinned, and Spy cursed again.
“If you think your pathetic drugs will make me still, you are very wrong,” He whispered. All thoughts of resolving this were replaced with thoughts of murdering the German.
“Oh, but it is not for zhat,” The doctor replied, his grin growing wider. “It’s just to make sure you stay avake.”

With that he pressed the blade to Spy’s ribcage, drawing a horizontal line through his undershirt – and through his skin. Spy winced and attempted to get back his knife, but Medic grabbed his wrist and pinned down his uninjured hand beside his head, mentioning how it wouldn’t be hard to stab through both his hands if that’s what would keep him still. Spy’s head was pounding now; he had been tortured before, but this was so much more personal. He would bear physical and mental scars for the rest of his life for what he did, and so would Medic. Nobody benefited, and they were both victims. No amount of apologies or praying for forgiveness would erase this and god damn it his head would not stop pounding! He was brought pack to crisp, painful alertness when Medic began slashing at his undershirt again. He cut it into shreds, making sure the knife went through Spy’s skin with each swipe. Spy’s chest and stomach were so red that it looked like he had fallen into a paper shredder, or had been grated like a piece of cheese. The doctor was in an uncontrolled rage, and moved down to his pants to start cutting them up as well. He continued using Spy’s knife to make slow, painful cuts around his thighs, then hovered dangerously close to his groin, sorely tempted to cut it apart before Spy let out a desperate “Please don’t!”.

His body was trembling in pain, but Medic didn’t seem to care, and in fact relished in inflicting pain on someone who deserved so much of it. Spy felt cool air and a chilling blade over his half-exposed penis and finally broke. Small tears ran down his cheeks and he rested his head back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling and whispering, “please don’t” again. Anything but that, please not that, he thought desperately, and then a sickening thought occurred to him. He deserved it. Medic was going to ruin him beyond what Respawn could repair and he deserved it. He exhaled shakily; he wanted a cigarette. He wanted to return to France, actually. He wanted to be out of this stupid war. Someone else’s problems weren’t worth him constantly being killed and then being humiliated like this. But really… no one was humiliating Spy except himself now. He continued staring at the ceiling in anticipation. He bit his lip so that he would no longer whimper like a child. He would accept what fate handed to him.

After a moment of listening to Medic’s disrupted breathing, the doctor crawled over Spy and looked down at him. Spy kept the eye contact, but so many emotions were pooling in his pupils and it was impossible for Medic to tell whether he was truly scared. This sparked the doctor’s hatred again, and he took the knife away from Spy’s groin and moved it up to his cheek.
“It’s more fun zhan I thought to strip zomeone of zheir defenses,” he murmured, digging into Spy’s cheek. He shut his eyes tight as Medic started cutting away his balaclava. “You really get to see vhat kind of terrible monster zhey are on the inside.” Some of Spy’s hair poked through the torn mask, and Medic smirked at the thought that the rogue had lost one of his most valuable attributes – anonymity. He cut away most of the balaclava before running his thumb gently over Spy’s still-closed eyelids. Spy didn’t know if he was being toyed with, or if the doctor was feeling remorse, but he seriously doubted the latter.

Once the Medic finished looking over his face, he put Spy’s knife into his pocket. Spy tried not to sigh too loudly, but he was immensely relieved. However, that feeling twisted into terror when he heard Medic unzipping his pants. The doctor wasted no time freeing his cock from his restrictive pants, and Spy felt sick seeing how aroused he had gotten from hurting him. He didn’t hesitate to prod Spy’s ass, but teased him slowly instead of entering. Spy’s last bit of resistance faded when he knew there was nothing he could do to get out of this, not even with three free limbs to fight back with.

Medic hadn’t bothered bringing lube or even spitting in his hand like Spy had done, but went ahead and pushed into him anyway. Spy silently opened his mouth, the slightest moan of pain escaping his lips as Medic forced himself deep inside. He saw the doctor shudder in pleasure before his vision fuzzed, and he returned to staring at the ceiling. The Medic’s ragged thrusts soon turned into a steady pumping when Spy started to bleed, and more blood stained the sheets. Spy could not even find the strength to cover his expression with his free hand, but he was at least able to block out the sounds of Medic’s labored breathing. His legs were limply hanging over the bed, so he did not resist when Medic, who was still standing, pushed his knees apart further and increased his pace. He gripped Spy’s hips tightly and hunched over his chest, and Spy finally felt truly scared when Medic licked the cuts around his nipples. The doctor was getting off quickly to the idea of revenge and the taste of blood more than Spy himself, and Spy felt his thrusting reach a hurried pace.

It wasn’t much longer before Medic came, his fingers digging into the large cut across Spy’s chest in desperation as he rode out the orgasm. He did not bother to help with Spy’s arousal as he pulled out, wiping some blood off himself with the bed sheet corner. He pulled up his pants and retrieved his syringe, then yanked his knife out of Spy’s hand, who only made a pained face in return. He tossed Spy’s knife back to him.

“You might as vell just kill yourself, Herr Spy.” Medic shrugged, pointing to the returned knife. He started to leave, then paused for a minute and looked back at Spy lying disgracefully on the bed.
“Oh, and vhat vas it you said? Sorry, ja.” He casually waved goodbye and closed the door behind him.

Spy must have stayed there for another half hour before his shaky hand grasped the knife Medic had thrown back. He was going to find out if Respawn worked this late at night.

21 .

That was worth writing, I must say. It seems plenty interesting to me, and I can think of a few ways the story could go from here. However, if you are just out of inspiration, that is another issue entirely.

If you're really just running out of ideas and not inspiration...

The previous conflict was disrupting the team dynamic so much, the escalation would disrupt it more, no? Sniper already broke your cannon's expected behavior to get slightly involved, and as it has escalated, I can see him getting more directly involved as time goes on.

It also depends on what was going through medic's head. Obviously, vengeance was a HUGE part of it. However, now that he's vented it you have to decide if that will that make him more confident and less public? Or will it make him cocky and more of a bully to spy?

Also, Spy mentioned that he could pretend to be heavy. Is there something going on between medic and heavy in your cannon? If so, what? What will heavy do about this strange behavior?

Just some ideas, anyways. Hope it helps.

22 .

Captcha just gave me a u with a bar over it. I hope I don't have to type that up.

Anywho, note to self: Do not rape anyone in TF2. They will sulk at first, then they will find you, and make you PAY.

Yeah, I think this is a good ending. If you have no idea what to do next, don't do anything next. Just take a break. Play TF2. Put that perverted mind to break, and let it absorb wonderful ideas.

23 .

Oh, this is fantastic. I'm glad he got revenge. Medic, I am proud.

24 .

An eye for an eye and we all go blind, but thank you so very much for portraying Medic in a vengeful, strong, and terrible light.

25 .

This is awesome. I love your Medic and Spy.

26 .

Holy crap. I thought it was an update. :[
Please sage.

27 .

Oops, I was going to let this fic die, but changed my mind when it got bumped, haha.
Thanks for the suggestions, and Sunshine, I'm going to use some of those ideas.
Hope you like!


Spy never left his room anymore. Immediately after the day’s battle, he vanished behind his bedroom door. His teammates weren’t the kind of people to prod into another man’s problems, so no one went to check on him.

Immersed in his solitude, he busied himself with cigarettes and French magazines. When he couldn’t bear to look at the inviting pictures of his home country anymore, let alone the suggestive magazines still stuffed beneath the mattress, he threw them to the floor and smoked until he thought he would pass out. The room was now thick with a gray haze that occasionally turned yellow when the sun peeked through the clouds and the curtains. His eyes were dimmed and half-closed as he looked towards the chair he blocked the door with, and he considered staying here forever, in his catatonic state. Even though he was exhausted, he could not bring himself to sleep – he’d learn to sit here and sleep with his eyes open if he had to, since there was no way he would risk a repeat of what happened almost a week ago.

What had happened to him? He was the goddamn Spy, a cool-headed rogue who never showed any emotion other than sadistic glee that came with a successful backstab, or secret malice when teasing his teammates. He was the one people were afraid to sit next to at breakfast because he might play some cruel prank, or the one people avoided showering near because who knew what a secretive guy like him had done. And oh, what he had done.

As tempting as sitting in a cloud of his own smoke was, he didn’t do it again the next night. He wanted to shave, to seem like he was still in control of himself, so when he entered his room he went straight to the bathroom in the corner, knowing if he went to the bed he probably wouldn’t get up a second time tonight. He had attempted shaving a day or so after his second incident with Medic, but his hands were shaking too bad to do it. Now as he tried a second time, he noticed the tiny scars littering his face. They must have stopped bleeding and closed up before he was sent through Respawn, and he’d have to bear another constant reminder.

Seeing a smooth, curved scar along his cheek disturbed him enough to accidentally nick himself with the razor, and he winced and tossed it aside. Spy washed the little bit of blood off along with the shaving cream he had hastily applied, and rubbed his eyes with the towel slowly. When he looked at himself again in the mirror, he wished that Respawn hadn’t picked him up that night.


During the battle the next day, Spy and Medic were never in the same area at once, as usual. Their team was trying to capture the control points, but unsuccessfully. They were retreating now, thanks to a pesky Sniper on the opposite team that was clearing the way for an offensive attack. Spy was trying to make his way to the Sniper’s roost, but his heart just wasn’t in it today. He was continuously picked off by the aggressive Scout and Pyro, and each time he reappeared in Respawn, he felt like retreating back to his room. He was filled with relief by the time the ceasefire siren rang through the desert.

Unsurprisingly, Spy was the first one in the base, heading for his room instead of the showers like the rest of his team. He would wait to shower until everyone had moved over to the cafeteria, and when they retired to watch television or play cards, he’d go to the cafeteria and take what food was left. This was how it had been for the last week, and he was starting to not mind it as much. He wondered if his teammates even cared if he became a recluse, or if they all hated him, like Medic did. That was what bothered him the most… that before he had taken advantage of Medic (raped? He didn’t want to use that word), he might have already hated Spy. His stomach churned, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He didn’t want to be alone forever on this base.

Spy pulled out a fresh cigarette as he approached his room. He fished for the key in his pocket, thinking about how easy it could be to pick the lock of the old door, which made him uneasy. He was unlocking the door as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. His eyes hurt as he squinted, but made out the lumbering form of Heavy. Even though Spy had easily taken out the opposing team’s Heavy many times, he didn’t like him too much because of his bond with Medic. Whether they were acquaintances, friends or lovers, he didn’t want the man who knew Medic best anywhere near him.

Cracking open the door, Spy intended to slip inside his room silently and wait for Heavy to pass by without a word, like he typically did. But this time was different. He nudged the door with a gloved hand when Heavy grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back into the hall.

“Leetle Spy was not credit to team today,” He said lowly. Spy yanked his shoulder away.
“It iz none of your concern,” He said, turning back for the door.
“Spy… is no longer credit to team.” Spy stopped.
“Why do you say that?”
“You know why.”

Heavy stared the smaller man down until he turned away again, disgusted. How did he – ? Did he know? Did Medic tell him? Spy tried for the third time to leave when Heavy grabbed his neck and pushed him into the wall. Spy reached for his knife, but Heavy only looked angrier.
“You are in lot of trouble now.”

28 .

My first reaction was "why did you not let die D:"

My reaction after reading?


29 .

This is my absolute favorite fan fiction so far! I had read it yesterday and came back to the site to browse, and I came back to reread this



30 .

Oh dear. I'm tempted to cry, "hasn't Spy suffered enough?". Still, I look forward to whatever happens next.

31 .

I'm glad I was helpful!

I am also fascinated by the new aspect you threw in. Heavy and Medic are close, yes, but how much does he know? I can't wait to find out!

Also, poor Spy. He was an ass for what he did, sure, but dang.

32 .

Hrgh. So fantastic.

THANK YOU FOR UPDATING. You have no idea how excited I am that this is back! Woo I can't wait to find out what happens next.

33 .

Spy deserves all the crotch-punching he gets, imo. At least he's able to appreciate the consequences of his indiscretion, which just makes his suffering more delicious.

34 .

You are an angel. Thank you so much for writing.
Your mentally distressed spy is just...so..perfect. He made me smile like a happy dolphin while I read it.

35 .

Please, more!! I beg for more!!

36 .

You guys are too kind! Thank you for all the feedback so far.


“Explain yourself.” Heavy said, still pinning Spy to the wall.
I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The Frenchman hissed, pushing his knife up to Heavy’s arm. “Let go of me.”

“Why did you do that to Doktor?”

Spy was stunned by the abrupt softness in Heavy’s voice, but panicked as his expression changed into something like rage. He backhanded the knife out of Spy’s hand, grabbed his suit collar, and punched him. Spy saw stars the second time Heavy’s fist collided, but before he got hit a third time, he swung out and jabbed Heavy’s eyes with his fingers. He yelped and let go of Spy, who kicked him back and quickly grabbed his knife from the floor, stepping around Heavy as he tried to punch him again. They both stood tense and ready to lunge until they heard a third person coming down the hall.

“I heard a scream! Heavy, was zhat –“

The Medic stopped in front of them, and Spy swallowed hard. Heavy lowered his fists, anxiously looking for approval or justification from the doctor, who only made a hardened expression.

“Heavy… I can take care of myself.” Medic said, and went silent as he walked towards Spy. He still had his weapons with him from the battle, and Spy felt a little sick when he slowly reached for his Bonesaw. He felt stuck between a rock and a hard place as he backed up a little against the wall. Would his own teammates really kill him? Would they do something worse?

The doctor admired his saw for a minute, scraping off dried blood and dirt with his nail. He looked back to the cornered man, and it seemed to Spy that he wanted nothing more than to gut him right here in the hallway. Memories of what Medic had done – what they had both done to each other – flooded his mind, and he felt bile in the back of his throat. It would be so easy for both of them to beat him to death, almost like school bullies ganging up on him when he was a child, and he feared Medic still had a lot of uncontained rage that would prevent him from ever forgiving the Spy. If he got Heavy involved, how long would it take for the rest of the team to get involved too? He might even lose his job if this reached the Administrator, and then he would have nowhere left to go.

Spy waved his knife back and forth to try to ward off the approaching doctor. He did not want this to go on any longer; in fact, he was tempted to cloak himself and run, to call for help, or curl up in the shadows of his mind and forget he had ever let his lust control him. His knees trembled a little as he ached to make a move, but before he could, Medic turned his Bonesaw over and jammed the handle of it into Spy’s gut. He leaned forward with a wheeze, and Medic hit him across the face with the handle again until he fell. He was still disoriented from fighting with Heavy, and couldn’t find the immediate strength to get up before Medic landed a kick in his side.

Rolling over with a groan, Spy clutched his sides and tried to bring himself back to his knees. The doctor kicked him again, hard in the ribs, and this time he didn’t try to get back up. From the corner of his eye he saw Heavy making a disgusted face, but he wasn’t sure whom he was more disgusted with.

After a long silence broken only by Spy’s labored breathing, Medic brought his Bonesaw down by Spy’s face, drawing a shudder from him. The doctor was visibly shaking as well, more from anger than from terror. His hair was slightly disheveled and his hand clenching the saw was twitching. Spy’s thoughts drifted in the haze of pain, and he wondered if Medic’s violent behavior in his room was a façade, to cover his own emotional scars. He crouched down to Spy’s level and looked him straight in the eyes with unparalleled aggressiveness.

“Vhat should I do vith you this time, Herr Spy?” He whispered, lowering his voice so Heavy couldn’t hear. “Do you vant another… “fling” with me?” His mocking voice and quiet laughter at his horrible joke drove Spy over the edge. He pushed himself up with his arms and lashed out for Medic, but was only kicked back to the ground for his trouble. The doctor kicked at his ribs, his stomach, his groin, his mouth and his head, each kick making him more and more mad, each moan of pain from Spy making him growl louder in return. He looked almost in tears from what Spy could make out between flashes of black and red. When he felt like he was going to pass out, the beatings finally stopped.

He had hoped what made him stop was that Heavy would have a change of heart and hold the doctor back. This was not the case, as the two stood over him, equally furious and frustrated that beating and killing him would not be enough to stop their pain. But they were no longer looking at him, they were looking off into the hallway. Spy heard snippets of a conversation, which escalated into screaming and yelling, then Medic leaving his field of vision, soon followed by Heavy. Spy remained crumpled on the ground, unsure of whether it was safe to get up, until a hand reached out and grabbed his arm.

He felt himself lifted up and the sudden sensation almost sent him back down to the ground. The hand moved under his arm, and he felt his other arm wrapped over someone’s shoulder. He accepted the help and sagged into it, hanging his head and silently thanking whatever higher power there was for not having to suffer through that anymore. Even though he couldn’t comprehend where he was being taken now, anywhere was better than here.

“Don’t worry, mate. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He didn’t remember hearing anything else after that.

37 .

Great thing about tf2. You can differentiate dialogue oh-so-easily.

38 .

Let me start off by saying that this is an unusual twist to noncon, but a beautiful one at that. There's never enough after the fact.
Usually, I love seeing Medic torture people, but I think he's gone a little over the edge. Spy was even feeling remorse far after the revenge. Medic, y u no in tune with people's emotional states?!
I'm torn myself over wanting for the two to stop the friendly fire and wanting them to continue. Needless acts of violence are surprisingly rare, especially between these two.
In short, needlessly rough emotional distress is desired, only second to needlessly bloody experiments.
And come on, Spy, you totally deserve to act guinea pig.

39 .

Aww Medic needs therapy. More revenge won't fix it. Spy could use some too probably, even though he pretty much had it coming. I love how Heavy stood up for him.

40 .

Ooh~ please~ i beg for more~

41 .

Angry Medic is hoooooooooot. Of course I feel bad for him, but still....

>His hair was slightly disheveled and his hand clenching the saw was twitching.
He totally can bake pottery with his hotness.

42 .

I know Spy is a rapist here, and rape isn't cool at all, but what medic did to Spy also wasn't cool! And the fact that Medic KEEPS doing bad stuff to Spy? And that Heavy was down with that? Totally breaks my heart!

I'm kinda hoping for some comfort to all this hurt for dear Spy. Maybe wrapped up safe in Sniper's arms? A Sniper who knows what Spy did was wrong, but also knows that he needs a shoulder and possibly some sweet lovin'?

43 .

Oh my. That was better than I was expecting. I am now happier than ever that I was able to help, and if you ever run into a writer's block again, please do not hesitate to contact me. If there is anything I can do right, it is help people bounce ideas. This really is quite brilliant.

44 .

Hrgh. This is fantastic. Everything is just.

And the fact that Sniper saved Spy just. I can't even. MyGod please keep going with this story. It's MAGNIFICENT.

45 .

Just came across this fic. Unf. I want to show it to everyone and say "THIS is how you do non-con!"

More please.

46 .

Whelp knowing how sadistic the medic is,I'm not surprised he acted this way. You don't do something horrible and expect a lunatic to give back equal payment.

I'm just glad the beatings stopped, I began wincing and became disconnected, until the help brought me back. Such a good story.

47 .

Sorry this took so long, I haven't felt like doing much of anything lately.


“What’d you do that made the Doc so mad?” A quiet voice asked Spy as he began to remember where he was. He was laying down on someone’s bed, too hard to be his own. His head was pounding, and he wished the feeling hadn’t returned and that he could go back to sleep.

“Oi knew you ‘n him were havin’ trouble, but crikey! I’ve never seen him like that.” Spy tried not to listen, and stared at the ceiling. He must have been in Sniper’s van, and he must have fallen asleep, because it was dark outside the windows. Damn it, he never liked sleeping around teammates.

“Oi can only imagine what’d make a man do that to his friend.” Sniper said. This caught the other man’s attention, and he swallowed hard. Did he know too? Did everyone in the whole base know now, or was he just growing paranoid? He felt like he was on fire, not just from bruises but also from humiliation, laying here wounded by men he should have been able to fight, and scrutinized by the Sniper for it. He tried to roll over towards the wall, but his ribs hurt too much. Sniper made a tired sound and Spy heard him crossing his legs.

“Spy, do you even know how bad you got it? Wanna tell me what happened?” He didn’t believe Sniper, or at least, didn’t want to believe him. He reached for his face and felt a crude ice pack over his cheek that he didn’t even realize was there earlier. He felt the swelling now, and bloodied lip, and the bruised eye, but he was oh-so-thankful Sniper had left his balaclava on, damaged as it was.

“Did you…” Spy trailed off, his voice surprisingly weak. “I swear if you…” His hands reached for his chest and his sides, and he sighed loudly with relief to find his suit was still intact, and hadn’t been messed with since he put it on this morning… or since Heavy grabbed it, he gravely remembered. Sniper laughed a little at this.

“Oi didn’t touch yer suit, mate. But you did bleed through it. Oi know how you spies are about getting blood on yer suit, you probably have some fancy way to get the stains out, so you can do that later.” He gave Spy a grin who only returned it with an upset look.

“I’m glad you find my situation so amusing, mon ami.” He scoffed, and focused on sitting up. The pain was still fresh but he quickly put on his indifferent act, not showing any teeth or making a sound as he exhaled painfully through his nose. Spy saw Sniper now, sitting in a single chair he dragged towards the bed from his tiny kitchen. The whole van was tiny, and Spy felt extremely out of place.

“Why did you ‘elp me?” He asked, searching Sniper’s eyes for a selfish reason.

“Oi’m not the kind ‘f guy who stands around watchin’ his teammates bleed t’ death,” He shrugged. “And now you’re gonna tell me what happened.”

Spy was hoping he wouldn’t ask again. “Why should I tell you?” He slowly swung his legs over the bed and stretched them out, itching to leave.

“Because Oi saved yer bloody life! Oi could’a left you, ya know, and then who knows what would’a happened. Our team’s lost enough thanks to you ‘n Medic havin’ yer little cat-fight.” Sniper said.

Spy slammed his fist down on the bed, making an unthreatening “whump” sound. “A cat-fight? Do you know what ‘e did? Do you even know anyzing about this!?”

Sniper didn’t say anything. There was an uncomfortable silence as he waited for Spy to continue; he had already baited him into the conversation.

“He… I… I took advantage of 'im.”

“… What?” Sniper blinked and straightened his posture. He really hoped he heard Spy wrong.

“I raped 'im.”

Spy felt his stomach twist into knots. He deeply regretted even opening his mouth, and Sniper’s stare was not the least bit reassuring. Spy looked down at his knees, trying to ignore the faint blood stains, his whole body on edge as he waited for Sniper to say something.

Finally, the bushman stood up. He turned away and slowly, slowly leaned against the wall. He scratched his cheek, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Spy held his breath – he might have just lost the only person friendly to him on the entire base.

“Oi had a feeling you were always a rat.”

48 .

AHH NO!! You can't just leave us hanging like this! Please, update this very soon. I just- I can't even handle this. I can't! I need to know.. I mean.. Sniper was the one who helped him and.. and at least he was honest right? But. Ah!
I need these chaotic emotions to be somehow resolved! Please, definitely continue this soon.
You have me on the edge of my seat.

49 .


And then what happens?

50 .

As I saw this updated, I couldn't help but get so excited. I even clapped, really.

After I read this...I love you. It's getting more and more exciting!

51 .

Well, this is interesting.

52 .

Rape. Such a powerful word. 2nd time you used it in the story, and first time it's being used concretely.

Subtle development, ahoy!

53 .

I really hope Sniper doesn't turn on Spy and hurt him more. I mean, yeah Spy's a dick for raping Medic...gah this fanfic has me feeling such complicated things.

Keep going, this story is beautiful.

54 .

"you raped me so I'll rape you back!"

I'm really interested with whats going on in medic's head. I hope we can get an aside with him sometime, though I don't know how if you want to break the point of view of Spy.

Also, every excited to have Sniper's full reaction. I want to see Spy pay for his crime more, but not in more violent ways, I wanna see some emotional and mental pay back.

55 .

I should not write fanfiction if I can't update in a timely manner...


“Sniper, it iz not what you think.” Spy mumbled after another painful silence. He silently stood up, his legs and back aching heavily, but took a few steps towards the bushman.

“Not what Oi… how can you even say that!? You just told me you… you…” Sniper spun around and glared down at Spy, who had been creeping closer. He made a frustrated sound and rubbed his eyes from behind his aviators. “Get out of my van.”

Spy furrowed his brow and raised his hand to object. Sniper smacked it aside and pointed to the door. “Oi said get out.”

“But, mon ami, you do not know what ‘e did to me-“

“Oi’m not yer ‘mon ami,’ and Oi don’t need ta know. Oi just know that you are a disgusting man-”

“What do you want me to say!” Spy pleaded. “I was… desperate.” Admitting something so personal to his teammate was making him physically ill, but he couldn’t stop now. “I ‘oped ‘e would see the same as me. Instead ‘e came back and did this.”

Spy inhaled deeply and hesitantly lifted up a corner of his suit. A long, red gash ran across his abdomen, outlined with green and purple marks. Respawn hadn’t completely healed the wound, and he wasn’t even sure if the bruises were from that night, or from tonight. Then, Spy flattened his suit and reached for his balaclava. He pulled it back over his neck and revealed only his cheek, which bore another ugly scar. Sniper did not expect Spy to reveal such a precious secret as what his face looked like, if only part of it, but he tried not to look too surprised.

“So you got what you deserved. Am Oi supposed to feel bad now?” Sniper crossed his arms.

“Non, I, I did deserve it,” Spy said, feeling dizzy. He leaned against the wall. “But, the Doctor, ‘e won’t, ‘e won’t stop until, I don’t know when, but it’s only getting worse…” Spy clutched his stomach, and put his other hand on his forehead. “Please, monsieur, you ‘ave to understand… ‘aven’t you ever felt… abandoned in zis place…?”

Sniper didn’t say anything, and Spy couldn’t tell whether he agreed but didn’t want to admit it, or whether he was still disgusted with him. He silently told himself he was done making assumptions about other people. As he looked to him for a response, the Frenchman was having trouble keeping himself upright, from both the wounds he suffered from, and his internal turmoil. He almost fell over until Sniper reached out and hooked his arm around him. Spy felt relieved, but only for a second until he spoke.

“If yer gonna throw up mate, you better do so outside.” He opened the door and roughly led Spy out, letting go of his arm and watching as the other man tried to recover. Spy wiped the sweat off his brow and looked around throughout the night, then back to Sniper. He didn’t want to go back only to meet with Heavy and Medic again…

“Wot are you doing? Go back.” Sniper said, irritably. Spy looked at the ground in hesitation, noticing the dirt brushing over his once nice shoes, then slowly reached up for Sniper. He lightly grabbed his sleeve, still looking away.

“Come with me, Sniper. Please.” He drew in a long breath. “I can’t do zis alone right now…”

There was another moment’s silence as Sniper considered it. Finally, he started walking for the base. Spy knew this was the best he was going to get, so he followed slightly behind, his head hung low. They entered the base without trouble, since the team was either sleeping or scattered about and doing their own thing.

“It does make you feel abandoned,” Sniper said quietly as they were walking down the hall. He didn’t say anything else, even when they made it to Spy’s room. They both stood looking at the door, waiting for the other to say something, until Spy turned around.

“Thank you,” He said, but Sniper only grimaced. Spy managed to force the faintest smile until Sniper left, leaving him alone once more.

56 .

i was worried this was another person trollbumping

but it's an update and one that made me tear up. so happy.

57 .

Spy was pathetic, self-justifying rat and I LOVE that! I don't know he deserves sympathy or forgiveness, but whether you give him them eventually or not, I will be perfectly okay. I love this fic.

58 .

Short and sweet, but it got the point across. Spy is going to have to work for his right for some rest.

59 .

I love this so much! I wonder what Medic's going to do next to Spy...

60 .

Bump, because this is an amazingly realistic fic that definitely should not be on the second page. And one of the last times someone had bumped it, the fic ended up not-dying.

So bring on the flames for 'trollbumping', I'd just like you to know that your fans are still desperately waiting on the edge of their seats for an update.

61 .

Okay so I never comment on anything but this... THISSS. Is amazing. I am thanking previous anon for bumping it up and bringing it to my attention. PLEASE. This must be continued!

62 .

I'm actually glad this got bumped. I really would love to see it updated and not forgotten. I enjoy this fic.

63 .

I agree.

64 .

Bumping in the hope that this fanfiction will be continued.

Raging Medic is sexy! My heart ached for him as he kicked the crap out of Spy though, poor guy.

Most of my sympathy is reserved for Spy though. I know he was the one who raped Medic, that all of this shit thats going down now is the least that he deserves, but getting to see his inner struggles and everything that hes going through makes me view Medic as the bad guy here.

I love the fact that this didn't end up as a rape turns into love story. And how Medic, the victim here, didn't just curl into a ball (not literally of course) and accept the rape. He retaliated against his rapist with a vengeance and continues to do so.

I cannot wait for the next installment, I wonder when/if everyone else will find out. I think it would be by some other means though, Sniper isn't the gossipy type, plus he wouldn't want to embarrass Medic.

65 .

Wow, thanks for reminding me about this guys! I don't know how much longer this story will go on though, it might only have one or two parts left. But I'll try to finish it soon.

66 .

This is ALMOST DONE. Pleeeease finish it!
I'd love you forever if you did. :U

67 .

God dammit, learn to sage dumb ass. I thought this updated. fuck.

68 .

Why won't anyone learn to sage?

69 .

Personally, I was going to bump this pretty soon, too. Last time I did, (I'm Anon 60), it reminded RayJ about the fic, possibly preventing it from being abandoned. >>25 did the same thing and it also saved the fic.

While 66 probably should have done it in a bit less immature/emoticon-filled way, it wasn't such a bad idea to bump after almost three months of no word.

70 .


There's a moderator's thread [i]at the very top of the subforum
. If you care to read it, it says:

There are also those that are deliberately posting "bump" or "moar" in an attempt to revive threads that have been long dead (in internet time). This is a inconvenience to both viewers and active authors, not to mention annoying and unproductive. These folk will be banned from the text boards without warning. It's not a permaban (unless you use underage-isms), but it will be of significant length.
Bumping old threads is now a bannable offense. Don't do it.

71 .

While I normally agree with the anti-sage rule, I'd let it slide in this particular case.
RayJ posted more than once after a bump, so it's not unproductive. Sometimes authors need a reminder that yes, people still want to read their works, right?
It'd be a shame to let this one die so short from completion. It's a wonderfully different story so far and damn, I want to know where it leads.

72 .

It'd be a shame if the author didn't finish this. I also approve of the bumps, because of the (hopeful) author response to them.

73 .

While >>69 does have a point, >>70 is right. I'm going to let >>66 slide this one time since this thread does have a record for being an anomaly that tends to actually gain more from necroposting than any other, but I don't want to see anyone doing it again.

74 .

I'm Anon66, sorry for the bump. I didn't know it was against any of the rules that you guys have. I will try not to let it happen again.

75 .

Anon69 here, echoing 66's sentiments and apologizing. I've read the Mod's Notes >>70 but figured this one was an exception due to it's past history of beneficial necroposting.

(psst Anon66 saging is typing in "sage" in the box next to the Reply button. Or you might just read the Mod's Notes at the top of the threads, it really clarifies a lot of things).

76 .

Hi again... I’m so sorry I didn’t finish this earlier, I was getting caught up in other fandoms, but I really appreciate everyone who’s been patient with me. I’m sorry if any of you got in trouble for bumping, too, I should have just abandoned this fic. Next time I write it will probably be a one shot.
Anyway, I hope you'll like the ending.


Despite a few ugly glances and harsh words from Heavy and Medic, the next few days passed rather smoothly. The doctor was leaving him alone on the battlefield, giving him a chance to work like he used to. With each backstab he made, he felt a bit of his confidence return, and each night, he was able to show his face to his teammates for a little longer.

However, it still irked him how easily Medic was able to shift back into his normal routine. When he saw the German in the early morning hours, or returning to his office in the evening, Spy noticed he seemed relatively at ease. Of course, he wasn’t at ease when he noticed Spy’s passing glance, but it seemed like he switched to a completely different person around his other teammates. There was a time when that was Spy’s specialty, but now… something was missing from him. It was as if, after the incident, Medic took something from him, instead of the other way around.

One evening, Spy had had enough of sitting around in bed, reading his magazines. Thoughts of Medic and even Sniper plagued him all day, and he could only push them into the back of his mind for a little while. He was never good at ignoring his problems, anyway – it was always better to confront them. Honestly, he knew if he could speak to the doctor, he might be able to end his terrible internal war… but how could he do that alone? He knew the Medic would violently strike back, that was just the kind of person he was.

He ended up reading the same sentence many times over again before finally setting the magazine down and turning to get off the bed. There was no point in reading anymore tonight if he couldn’t focus. He wanted to go for a walk, if only to clear his head. Spy put on his suit and quietly left his room, with a certain destination in mind.

It didn’t take him long to reach the door. This time, he lit a cigarette before turning the handle. But instead of the sterilized scent of a doctor’s office, a fresh gust of air hit his nose. He saw Sniper’s van parked where it always was, and he stepped outside to knock on the door.

The bushman answered after a long pause, and when he cracked open the door he looked quite tired. They fought hard against the other team today, and he was probably trying to wind down now. Spy felt a little ashamed for having to turn to the other man, especially at such a late hour.

“What is it, Spook?” The man grumbled, scratching his cheek. Obviously he wasn’t happy that he had to speak to Spy so soon. The Frenchman looked at the ground, but he was tired of keeping everything bottled up, and he spoke without hesitation.

“I was ‘oping you would ‘elp me.” He said, and exhaled deeply, taking his cigarette out of his mouth. “I am going to talk to zhe doctor – “

“Why do you think Oi want anythin’ else to do with you ‘n him?” Sniper interrupted, and Spy winced. “You are both disgustin’ people.”

“Monsieur Sniper, please. I am going to make this right. I just… If you are there, and I get ‘urt, then – “

“What, you can’t take care’a yourself?” Spy didn’t respond, but Sniper took a deep breath. “Fine. Oi’ll help you, so we can end all this nonsense.”

Spy smiled a little and stepped back, waiting for Sniper to come with him. He disappeared behind the door for a moment, and Spy heard him grumble before he returned with his aviators and hat. They walked back into the main building, Spy leading this time, despite his pounding heart.

It took a few minutes to walk to the other end of the base, but when they reached Medic’s office, Spy started choking up. He stood around the door nervously, hoping for encouragement but not needy enough to ask for it. Sniper noticed his distress anyway.

“Oh, uh… good luck, mate.” He leaned against the wall and rubbed his eyes. “Don’t take too long, Oi’m exhausted.”

The other man nodded, satisfied with his meager advice, and opened the door.

77 .

Inside, he could see Medic working at his desk, in the far corner. All of the lights were off except for the desk lamp, and a bathroom light on the other end of the room. He hadn’t been in here for weeks, but just the sight of it was making him sick. He cleared his throat, partially because he was nervous, and partially because he didn’t want to surprise Medic by getting too close. In a sense he felt like he was going to try calming an animal with soft words, but that didn’t seem too far-fetched… after what they had both done to each other, it was fitting to call them animals.

The doctor looked up then, and his face went pale. No doubt he thought this would become a repeat of that night, Spy thought. He watched him reach for his scalpel that he kept on the desk, but Spy made no attempt to get closer. He didn’t want Medic to think he was here for more bloodshed.

Unfortunately, Medic interpreted him wrong. He got up and ran for Spy, slamming his shoulder into him and pressing his scalpel to his throat. Spy raised his empty hands – he had his knife with him, of course, but if he took it out Medic would only see it as a threat.

“Doctor… I am only ‘ere to talk…” Spy said, his voice low.

“Speak, zhen,” Medic growled, not loosening his grip.

“I… I’m sorry for what I did to you – “ Spy started, but Medic cut him off.

“You’re sorry? Is zhat all you have to say for yourself!?” He suddenly grabbed Spy’s shoulders and threw him at the floor. Spy wheezed but rolled back over, grabbing a chair to help get back on his feet.

“Do you have any idea… vhat zhat was like?” Medic said, his voice and hands trembling. Spy noticed, and started walking back towards him. He reached for the hand holding the scalpel, pushing it down slowly.

“I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way,” Spy said. Medic was silent for a moment, but a flash of anger crossed his features and he brought his fist up abruptly into Spy’s face. The Frenchman stumbled but didn’t fall; instead, he turned back to face the doctor again. A frustrated scowl was plastered on his face, but he was determined to solve this without violence. He grabbed Medic’s wrists and locked eyes with him.

“Listen to me! I didn’t want to ‘urt you.” Spy shook him to emphasize his point. “I never wanted to.” The doctor was still looking furious, so Spy shoved him back to avoid the risk of getting pinned again.

“You don’t ‘ave to like me. Just, please… stop.” He sighed, still holding his hands up. At this point, he was all right with never speaking to the Medic again, so long as the hateful glances and words stopped. He could deal with the mental and physical scars from both of their abuse towards one another, but he could not handle dragging this hate out any longer.

It was strange how he had gone from being the one who forced his teammates to like him, to asking one of them for forgiveness, but… he didn’t mind his change of character. The Medic was a colleague, someone he worked with, nothing more, nothing less – and now, Spy no longer wanted to be the man who pushed others into situations that were never meant to be. If the doctor never spoke to him again, his bruised ego would have to accept that.

The two men stood in silence for a moment longer. Medic seemed to be considering his options, while Spy waited patiently across from him.

“Get out,” The German finally said, pointing to the door. Spy’s hope sunk, but he listened anyway, and stepped outside his office.

“Zhe next time you have a ‘ztomach pain’, treat it yourself.” Medic said, and quietly shut the door behind him.

Spy stood in silence, looking at the closed door, then down to his feet. A feeling of abandonment hung over him, but he had no right to complain.

Suddenly, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He jumped a little, but recovered when he saw it was only Sniper, surprisingly still waiting for him.

“D’ya still want that beer?” He asked. Spy managed to crack a smile; maybe all he really needed was this simple comfort.

“Sure.” He replied, and they walked off, leaving the doctor’s office behind them.


That's it! Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it.

78 .

This is.... I honestly cannot think of any words that can describe this story. Wonderful? Lovely? Sad? I'll go with honest, because this is one of the most heart-breakingly realistic stories I've read, regardless of the subject matter.

Just, thank you so much for writing this and sticking with it, RayJ. And please continue writing more, one-shots or otherwise, all of this was amazing. And no worries! None of us got into any trouble. Please don't abandon anything you write, you're wonderful at it.

79 .

I am so happy you finished this! It was so beautiful and the ending was perfect. Thank you

80 .

This ending was satisfying. I'm happy you did this instead of something really derpy and crazy. This whole story was just...real. It really made me think, and really showed how not just the rapped have it hard (which they do), but the rapist might have it hard if this wasn't something he really wanted to do.

Sincerely, this is my favorite fan fiction I've read so far. Thank you for making something that can be taken seriously, and not just some yaoi junk.

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