1 . Name: Harth @ 2013-01-03 07:36

More of a character development story, trying to stick as close as possible to canon, with Easter Eggs from Youtube, the Comics, Wikia and based around the 4chan post about Pyro from 2009. Influenced by other fictions like RotD and such
Mostly a gradual build up towards Medic/Engineer, with some Medic/Pauling.

UPDATES NOT INCLUDED: All the holiday events, the Engineer Update, Apple Update and a revised version of the Mecha Update.

November, 1972

Engineer couldn't really say he had the job of a lifetime when everyone who wasn't a human wanted to murder him in all kinds of ways possible every day. Even though rocket- and bomb launchers, flamethrowers, knifes, pistols, snipers, needles and miniguns constantly tore through his flesh every time he moved away from his beloved Sentry, what worried him the most was Spies. Didn't matter what colour or how they were made. They were all out to play with his head, on and off the battlefield. Don't get him wrong, Engineer was good friends with the Spy on his own team, now that the colours had merged, but he still steered clear of him sometimes. Even so, with the amount of money he was getting paid and the ability to never die, it was worth the horror of the day.

Night on the other hand was a different story. It was his favourite time of the day when he wasn't tending to his machines or needing to check his back every two seconds. He was able to kick back with a bottle of Blu Streak and either chat with his fellow mercs, getting to know them (a lot of them were still elusive about why they were here), or sit in shared silence with the lonesome, previously RED Sniper and look up at the stars or stare warily at the ominous grey tank on the other side of the field; safe with Sniper scanning the scenery below and taking pot shots at the wildlife.

This night, however, proved to be something very different than usual. Engineer was in his usual spot beside Sniper, sitting on the edge of the platform with his beer, discussing a blueprint he had for an upgrade, not a clue in the world as to what the rest of his team was up to when a massive blast erupted from within the base. Having always been the one to stay behind and defend the majority of the Teufort BLU base, Engineer judged the sound to be that of a Liberty Launcher, being quite familiar with the launcher, and scrambled quickly to his feet. With Sniper fast on his heels, the pair rounded the corner in the base and saw a peculiar albeit not a rare sight.
Against the walls was a very drunk RED Demoman, a nerve-racked BLU Pyro, a spastic RED Scout and a bored RED Spy. Medic, whom was also a fellow BLU, looking a bit worse for wear with tosseled hair, a singed coat from the rockets explosion and a bruise blossoming on his jaw, and Soldier of the same colour, himself only sporting a cut on his lip, were in a very unfair Mexican standoff. A Launcher verses a massive hypodermic needle. The odds were clearly never going to be in the Medic's favour. Although, Engineer scratched his chin thoughtfully, he had seen Medic on quite a few occasions being very able to take down almost every class; seen him dodge 3 to 4 rockets and slice a RED Soldier's head clean off, complete with maniacal laughter. This was a different case however, with the two in such close proximity and nowhere to hide. Most of the team seemed ready to see this fight through however, none of them really cheering for any side, whereas Engineer and Sniper had not a clue why it was even happening. Neither the doctor or the soldier were totally friendly with the team to warrant a side.

"Doc?" Gleaming psychotic eyes flitted at Engineer in response. "What's goin' on?"

"You fall to sleep or something, you cowboy nancy!? This Nazi here was plotting against us!"

Engineer frowned behind his ever-present goggles, doubting it was the case but knew not to put it past anyone, especially Spy, when it came to deception. "And ya know this how, Solly?"

"First, don't call me Solly, you maple-eating armadillo!" Engineer creased his brow further at the name. "And two, because I found him talking on the phone!" That explained the ruffled appearance of the ever-presentable doctor.
Soldier must have tossed him on the ground to get everyones attention followed by a punch to the chin.

"Ya'ver think he was talkin' to someone that didn't want to kill us?"

"How would I know when he's talkin' Nazi!?"

"No, I vas speaking German, Dummkopf!"

"See, there you go again with those damn Kraut words! You're in America, Dumb-cough! Speak the language!" Soldier inched closer, threatening to unleash a rocket on Medic's legs. He knew that even though respawn was active and he couldn't die, maiming the doctor's lower body would make him feel better.

"Maybe zhey should haff left you in Varsaw, you crazy lunatic."

"I told 'em what ya were, Nazi! They wanted to keep ya where they kept their dogs!"

Engineer rolled his eyes at the sheer ignorance Soldier was capable of and stepped forward in attempt to break the fight apart, seeing as everyone else was content with seeing it happen, besides Sniper. Instead, the possible thousandth accusation of being called a Nazi snapped Medic from his frothing stupor and launched himself and his needle headfirst at Soldier. Scout whooped in encouragement, clearly not favouring a side, as Medic punctured Soldier's collarbone and injected whatever was in the needle throughout his system.

“That all you got, Doc?! I've drunk water that's more dangerous than your needle!” Not one to give up so easily, Soldier bucked the doctor off, grabbed his throat, lifted him in the air and slammed him on the ground with his own body on top. A very audible crack could be heard from Medic with a second one being heard when Soldier's fist connected with the German's cheek. The man slammed his fists into the doctor over and over, needle jostling about as he moved his arms down to lay a few on the man's chest. The crowd stopped their hollering, realizing the Soldier was set to killmode and moved in with Engineer.

And just as it started, it stopped with Soldier's body falling limp on top of Medic with a solid thud. The needle finally snapped off and rolled towards Pyro's feet, who jumped away and cowered behind Demo who was too drunk to even realized what had happened.

Engineer and Sniper rushed over to relieve Medic of the deadweight Soldier, only to find him knocked unconscious as well. Engineer grimaced as he rolled Soldier on his back beside Medic and surveyed the two. Unfortunately this wasn't the first time the two had gotten into some kind of fight. Soldier was constantly wrangled off Medic, Spy and Pyro (basically anyone with an accent or spoke in muffles) every time the team needed their hearts upgraded or for the heck of it. Heavy usually stood guard every time it was the American's turn, as anesthesia didn't work to knock the man out.

The worst time things got out of control was when the two met up at Teufort. Soldier had obviously come back from a self-funded tour of Poland, with his blue uniform kitted out with unrecognizable medals and bottle caps, having told Engineer that there was no time to be given the proper ones in the middle of a hippie protest battle. His helmet seemed to bear a similar appearance to that of a German Stahlhelm, blood stains still relevant. Medic, on the other hand, was a stark contrast to Soldier's battle-hardy uniform. His crisp white/blue coat gleamed from the harsh rays of the sun, his hair slick and neat and his boots so shiny they were capable of being aimed underneath ladies skirts to have a peek.

The first time the two shared gazes in Teufort, Medic's was that of aloof and arrogance, whilst Soldier's was hidden but his mouthy scowl showed that he recognized the style of wear that Medic wore. "I'm used to seeing that in black." He voice was extra gravely but there was a hint of familiarity.

"Ja? Vell, I zink you haffn't been to Germany in quite zome time, Herr Soldat."

"You speaking Nazi to me again, Kraut?"

This was round about the time Engineer locked his truck, having only lived one state away, and saw the two for the first time. He had heard the crude growled insult of Soldier and saw Medic bristle and knew which side he wanted to root for. Back in those innocent days, Engineer thought Medic was a middle-aged doctor in the team purely to heal. That was before he saw the man in action and knew of the unquenchable bloodlust the he had. But seeing him with fresh eyes and knowing that he was going to be the subject of abuse due to his accent, Engineer decided to intervene. "Hey fellas!"

Medic's eyes glanced over at Engineer and lifted his hand up to wave, but Soldier had ignored the friendly greeting and pummeled the defenseless and unprepared German, cursing that he should have stayed in the Institute. A massive Russian, geared in Siberian furs and Ushanka, unfazed by the afternoon heat, grabbed Soldier and threw him across the yard. Not even skipping a beat, the silent giant scooped up the beaten doctor, along with the man's medical supplies and stormed off to what apparently was the medical bay in the end. It was all a blur to the Texan. Heavy had explained later that night that they had met on the train and swapped stories of their time in the war and promised to protect each other. There was something else involved in their pasts that made the promise so deep but it was a kind of bond Engineer would never be able to understand, having never been so intimately involved in the Great War as those two obviously had.

Back in the present, Heavy was no where to be seen and now there were two limp bodies to deal with. With Sniper's help they picked Medic up, Engineer scooping him up under the arms and Sniper with his feet and carried him down to the MedBay. Engineer couldn't care less where they hauled Soldier off to, if they did so at all (they didn't). Engineer had had enough of Soldier's violent outburst, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was warming up to Medic's odd personality after all these years working with him. He enjoyed it when he could catch the doctor on a good day and discuss upgrades on the Dispenser or their hearts. He liked talking to a fellow man of science, even if their fields of expertise were different. That being said, the good doctor still gave him good reason to be wary of him.

"Ya got 'im, Truckie?" Engineer lifted up Medic onto one of his gurneys and sighed.

"Yeah, thanks Snipes. I got this." Engineer waved Sniper off, regretting the decision once it was made. What was he going to do about Medic? Sure, he was the next best thing to a doctor, what with his dispenser and all, but caring for this particular doctor, well it was uncomfortable. He just hoped the man didn't wake up anytime soon. Doctor's made the worst patients. "Ah, doctor, what are we gonna do 'bout cha?" He peered down at the man and smiled softly. Despite the bruises slowly going through their healing faze on his face, his broken spectacles, which he gently removed, and his ruffled hair, Engineer had to admit this was the most peaceful he had ever seen Medic.

With an hour to spare before he went to sleep, forgetting that there was no battle tomorrow, the engineer made his way down to the mess room and fetched himself another beer to keep himself busy whilst watching over Medic. He didn't really have to stay with him, but a small pity side told him to. Plus he wanted to ask Medic a question about his upgrade. It could wait until tomorrow but he already had the schematics in his waist bucket after showing Sniper and getting his opinion. He placed the blue rolls on the doctors desk as an after thought as he entered the room.

Medic was in the same spot as before, unsurprisingly, when he returned, but his eyes opened when Engineer tripped over a stray cord keeping the heart monitor powered. "V-Vas..." His vocal frustration was clear, albeit strained,as he sat up and Engineer apologized quickly, fearing an attack by the unpredictable doctor. His icy blue eyes watched Engineer make his way through the cluttered MedBay with his beer and jumped up to sit on the adjacent gurney. "Ja?"

Without his helmet to tilt and play with, Engineer could only scratch the back of his head in discomfort. "Ah jus' wanted ta make sure that'cha were ok, Doc, s'all." Medic's head tilted sideays in contemplation. "Ya took a fair beatin' from Solly."

"I am quite- hrng!" Medic clutched his side in pain. Quick as lightning Engineer was by his side, his gloved hand on the man's shoulder in concern. A rattled breath emitted from Medic's lips as he tried to breath properly. "Vas I-I c-coughing vhen you v-vere here?" He coughed violently.
"Ah left the room for a bit, Doc. Ah dunno."

"Mein Medigun, b-bitte. Mein heart cannot heal broken bones." As soon as the strangely calm order was given, Engineer made sure to comply as soon as possible. Unfortunately, in his haste to grab the gun, he took hold of the Kritzkrieg instead. "F-Fire it." His voice sounded more in pain now than it did on the battlefield. Engineer pushed the lever forward, activating the glorious heal rays and sending the doctor into a sort of medicinal high. His pupils dilated despite the luminous glare the overhead lights emitted whilst his pained expression changed to that of lazy content.

As if readjusting his goggles would help his eyesight, Engineer gently placed the 'medigun' back down after a minute or so of useage and inched closer to the blissful German. "Medic?" No response. "Medic? You ok?" Still nothing except for doe eyes blinking back. Engineer peered back and saw his mistake. The Kritkrieg, every time it was used on the members of BLU and RED, offered them a high that could be channeled down into their fingers to activate the devastating critical hits it was designed to do. Using it to purely heal and not have a conductor, i.e some kind of weapon, let the electric feel float in the person's system until it was released or disappeared entirely after time. Kind of like static electricity; that is if static could give you the feeling of being on LSD!

How did the Engineer know all this? Well he was the unknowing guinea pig of first testing. Medic needed to know what his new gun's side effects were and why not use someone who isn't prepared? For reasons based around the experiment, Engineer refused to ever be around Medic when he equipped the device. Let's just say, Scout wasn't the only one bouncing off the walls that day. It took a special kind of person to handle the Krieg. Soldier, Demo and Heavy, of course. Pyro had been known to take small doses of the machine but he usually ended up in the sewers huddled next to a wall. Medic laughed at the sight and said it reminded him of when he first met Pyro, whatever that meant. Demo's Scrumpy seemed to counter the effects whilst Heavy and Soldier were strong enough to take it. Any Spy stupid enough to get a dose would be seeing ghosts for hours as their little knives were too small to be a reasonable conduit.

In any event, Engineer now had to deal with a slowly hallucinogenic Medic, who was plucking the tips of his gloves in a sad attempt to remove them. Engineer knew from experience that Medic only removed his gloves come time for check-up where they would be smothered in blood. He didn't even take them off in the showers. "Medic, ya gotta lie down there, buddy."

A goofy smile spread across the other man's face as one of his hands cupped Engineer's cheek, freezing the Texan in place. "Nein, Herr Engineer. Zis is most rewarding! Danke Schoen!" His speech slurred drunkenly. Surely he should be use to the gun by now? He often huffed it on the field. "I haz a secret to tell dyou, Engineer." His gloved hand travel gradually down the paralyzed man's neck to grasp his overall strap, pulling him closer so their noses were inches apart. Engineer shifted uncomfortably but didn't dare pull away from the capricious medic.
From behind tinted goggles, the engineer studied Medic's eyes, noting the way they were unable to focus, the fact they were still dilated; the fact that they still had bloodlust in them made him extremely uncomfortable. "What, Doc?"

“I upgraded zee gun. It ist more powerful zhan ever!” With a mumble in his native tongue, Medic slipped a dexterous hand carefully around between the folds of his coat and extracted a small box. Medic licked his lips, his eyes going even wider, gleaming at the sight of the box as if it were his seducer. Engineer snuck a peek and deepened his frown. The box appeared to pretty nodescript besides the latch on it. "Öffnen Sie diese."
"Ah can't understand ya, Doc. Can ya speak English?"

"Natürlich." Medic offered with a wave of his hand, still holding the box, as if Engineer had asked him the most absurd question. "Öffnen Sie diese!" His voice held more excitement.
"Ah don't know what yer sayin'."

Medic growled and thrust the box in his hand. "Sie dummkopf, öffnen sie einfach!" The hand that grasped his overalls jerked him forward more, their noses touching, and growled dangerously, "Wenn Sie dies nicht tun, werde ich durchschaute den Knochen."

The poor engineer hadn't a clue what the doctor was garbling about but took a safe gamble and opened the box, revealing a small patch of purple crystals. He placed a finger in the mix and licked the substance off. It reminded him of the time he taste Crit-a-Cola. It was a snuff box. Medic's snuff box. Engineer's eyes grew wide under his goggles. Medic used this snuff box! His head snapped up to face Medic, his expression turned to worry. "Doc, d'ya use this a lot?" With his free hand, he tried to peel the hand bound around his overalls away gently.
"Ja," that was something he could understand, "und Sie müssen es niemandem erzählen." With that, Medic's now free hand struck forcefully against Engineer's throat, choking him. He gagged loudly and retaliated out of reflex by smacking the side of Medic's face with enough force to knock the man out. The hand dropped limply against it's drugged owner. Before he could collapse back, Engineer brought his hand around to cradle his head and guide him down back on the gurney's pillow. He lifted his legs back up, and, thankful for the first time ever that the doctor was a demented individual and liked to experiment on live subjects, strapped his body down with all nine of the bed buckles, not too tightly though, lest the man go on a Kritz-induced ramage and look for revenge. Or worse, attack his own self. Who know's what effects the machine had on him.

The door to the MedBay thudded shut behind the panicked Engineer who now went in search for another beer and possibly someone who knew what to do about the doctor. Entering the Mess was something akin to enter a morgue though. Only silence. And a big guy who wanted you to lie with the other bodies. Well, there were no dead bodies in the Mess, only Heavy, and Demo who was passed out, but Engineer got the impression the he wanted him dead. He ignored Heavy's hard stare and grabbed himself his third beer of the night and collapsed on the couch in exhaustion, rubbing his tender neck. "Vhat happened with Doktor?"

The enormous rumble that was possibly Heavy's inside voice shook Engineer out of his stupour and hacked some of his beer as he swallowed. His voice was hoarse in reply. "He and Solly got inta a fight. No one told ya?"
"I do not have time for half story. Sniper told me you look after him for while." Heavy made his way over next to Engineer. They both got along well on the battlefield and moreso off when the vodka and Scrumpy flowed free. Heavy said he didn't care for American beer, as did most of team as well. He would always slap the stout mechanic's back during a particularly funny joke or when something funny came up about his past; something considered funny to Heavy didn't mean it was funny to everyone else, like sticking wrenches down throats and whatnot. Tonight however, Heavy's tone was that of anger. Anger of whatever happened to his favourite team member, not necessarily him.
"Yeah, somethin' 'bout a phone call. He was talkin' German and then they started shoutin' 'bout Poland." Heavy glanced up, his expression changing to surprised interest. This didn't go past Engineer. "You got somethin' ta say, pardner?"

Heavy shyed away, regretting that he couldn't hide his expressions unless Sascha was in his grasp. "Medick told me somesing on train, times ago."

"Whad'he tell ya?" How could Heavy have hidden a secret for four year.
"He said is big secret. Only he, Soldier and I know." Okay, so Solly was in on it, too. "Oh, and Pyro."
This got the utmost attention Engineer had ever given anyone who wasn't talking about thermal dynamics or applied mechanics. "P-Pyro?" What? Curse his stuttering. "What's he got'ta do with anything? Guy's good on the field, sure, but he's gotta be some kinda mutant-" Engineer paused and thought. "Doc didn't make him from Soldier's brain, did he?"

"Da. Vhat? Nyet! Is secret. Should not be saying." Heavy crossed his arms. "Where is Doktor?"

Engineer sighed. "Medic's in his Bay. Took a hard beatin' but he'll be fine. I think?" Heavy was the perfect candidate for this question! "Heavy, what happens if Medic gets'a dose of Kritzkrieg?"

"He gets silly. Sometimes I lock him on bed." At least he did the right thing but the fact it happened enough for Heavy to be nonchalant about it worried him. "Doktor likes to tell secrets when he is silly so I put sock in mouth." Darn Heavy and he's obsession with secrets. "You give him?"

Another sigh and a readjustment of his goggles. "Yeah, but at least his ribs are healed, right?" Heavy nodded sage-like. "Well, that's good. But what do we do about him now?"

"Just leave Doktor. I vill untie him in morning because of no fight." Engineer nearly forgot about the results of today and how Demo went ballistic and completely demolished the robot's main spawner and they were under repairs. It called for another beer.

"Ya want a nightcap, Heavy?"

Heavy thought for a moment, mulling over the simple suggestion like it was advanced calculus. "Da, vould be good!"
Fetching a bottle of Scrumpy and two glasses, Engineer uncapped the bottle. See, Heavy got extraordinarily drunk off a couple of bottles of Scrumpy, so it wouldn't be too long before Engineer got his answer about Medic and Soldier and whatever they had Pyro mixed up in. "Here you go, buddy." He offered the bottle with a tap on the larger man's shoulder.

"Thank you!" He sniffed the bottle and chugged it like a baby might with a milk bottle, glasses forgotten.
"Why can't'cha tell me 'bout the Doc and Soldier?" Engineer peered over his own bottle of Streak, the case not sitting too far away, trying not to sound too forward.

Heavy looked down at his bottle in disdain. "You are trying to drunk me?" Eyes glanced at his drinking partner. "Vould be bad ting to do. And hard." He let out a boisterous laugh and clapped Engineer on the back with gusto, not noticing his drink spilling over in his monstrous grasp.

Engineer put his arms up in defence and shrugged of Heavy's hand politely. "Naw! Just ya got me curious, that'sall. Can't blame a man fer askin' now, can ya?" Little did the Russian know, that was Engineer's motive.
The Russian seemed to contemplate the words, taking a few generous swigs of his liquor, sending them in a comfortable silence. Every now and again Engineer would look over at Heavy in hopes he would get the hint, but he may as well have been staring at the wall. Heavy was amazing under pressure, presumably trained his whole life, and presumably wouldn't crack under Engineer's lackluster gaze. Now that he thought about it, he did recall overhearing that his family was placed in a Gulag when the Director was pestering him a while back. Engineer shuddered. He couldn't even imagine the terrible things that must have happened to his friend. He looked again from a different perspective at the Russian, completely forgetting about the other issue and admired Heavy's frame. A man simply did not turn out to be like Heavy from a Gulag. "Heavy?" He casually finished his beer and fetched a new one.

"Da?" His voice was relaxed. Good.

Remembering his reaction from last time the question was brought up by that annoying Director, Engineer delicately danced around any form of direct questioning and asked, "what'dya do before BLU?" Close enough. It wasn't direct, but it would help him dig deeper and hopefully bring it around to answer his original question on how he met Medic and what they discussed. A quick swig seemed to relieve him a bit of tension.

"I vork in military. Build guns for Reds." Under circumstances, Engineer assumed he meant the Soviets. "Vas not good work. But put food on plate. Dey hesitate to hire me 'cause I burn Gulag down when I vas child.” Engineer raised his brows, not in surprise, but with excitement. He felt a kind of weight be relieved from his chest. It's not that he thought Heavy was a Communist like Soldier implied, he was just relieved he confirmed he wasn't. Although he did supply them weaponry.

“Why'dya help 'em?”

“Dey vere only people who hire back den. I get food, get strong. My family is safe. Will not let them go back to camps.”

“What about yer dad?”

“He would not have like vhat I did, but he would know I didn't want to do eet.” Heavy chuckled but made it clear in his statement about his father's stance on Communism was, and that he was not alive when Heavy worked for them. Engineer didn't press on about that issue. “He scalp Red and give me deir hat. Vas good gift.” Engineer paled. He'd never be able to look at Heavy's fuzzy cap the same way again. Another swig, this time bigger. “But I met Sascha der."

"Built her-"

"Nyet. She vas beautiful girl from Mtsensk. Caught by Red, but most good at guns." Engineer could swear Heavy's eyes were sparkling, but when their gazes crossed, only hard but gentle eyes stared back; no light at all. He continued, "She help make Curtain. Leaders put stamp on it. I tried to get off." Engineer recalled years ago when Heavy came to his workshop with the mighty weapon and ask for the Soviet logo to be seared off. It must have been fused with Australium or something for none of his old smelting irons or blow-torchers could remove the blasted thing at the time.

"Where's she now?" Engineer propped a leg up under his other and leaned forward a bit, drink forgotten, arm on the back of the sofa. He never expected anything like this and every bit of it was intriguing. Why he had never asked Heavy about himself, he didn't know. Well, except for the fact the man acted dumb and always looked like he wanted to kill you.

It wasn't often Heavy talked about himself and it took a bit of time and the rest of his bottle before he could remember and use the right words to explain. Only Doktor asked him about himself, no one else. It was odd that Engineer suddenly was interested, but had read enough books to know that the man was plotting something devious. "She was killed." The American was slightly taken aback by the sheer bluntness of the comment.

"What?"

"Da, guards extinguish her."

"Ya mean execute?"

"Da!" Heavy sound pleased to be corrected. "I help her escape, but guards shoot her in head. I carry her body to Amursk and bury her. She vas good lady." He sniffed quietly but showed no sign of remorse or sadness. "I build Sascha for her." Heavy thumbed the tip of his drink thoughtfully, deep in his own memories. “She vas in Komsomolsk-on-Amur to be avay from Moscow but got caught anyvay.”

Engineer bit his lip, feeling not only awkward about not knowing the places Heavy spoke of but also because of the intimate knowledge he was freely sharing. He was worried about interrupting him and kept in his position even though his leg was falling to sleep.

“She was love but I do not cry for her. She vould hit me.” Heavy chuckled and finished his drink. “You have love?”
Engineer never figured Heavy as a romantic, much less someone who was romantically involved so decided to humour the man. “Ah had a lady once. Preddiest gal in tha whole w-country.” He wanted to say world but feared upsetting Heavy. The man seemed to noticed but kept his goofy grin anyway. “She's not 'round anymore either. Left me for 'nother man when ah got tha job here. Ah don't blame her. Ah nevah got ta see her much anyhow.” Engineer polished of his bottle as well and belched deeply into his chest. “She's prob'ly with some lad who'll treat her right.”
“You are good man, Engineer!” Heavy declared enthusiastically. “If she love you, she vould have built tiny gun and fight here too.”

The Texan wasn't sure what to make of Heavy's declare. Should he feel hurt? Should he laugh? “Ya know ladies can't fight in this place.”

“Da. If we in Russia, dey vould. Easy to make angry. Good fighters.” They laughed together as they pictured all the women they knew angry and holding guns. It was a scary thought. Heavy glanced over at his friend, eyes crooked and a dopey smile plastered on his face. The Scrumpy mixture had settled. “You never ask dese questions, Engineer.” Behind his goggles, his eyes widened in panic but he kept his mouth as straight as possible. “Is 'cause of Doktor?”

The game was almost up. Engineer had to think fast. “No-no-no I-I-...”

Heavy laughed again, louder than all the other times; his scaring of Engineer always brought him glee. “Oh, do not worry, Komrade! I knew you vant to know.” Engineer sighed dejectedly and from frightened relief. He never could predict Heavy. He wasn't an easily spooked man, in fact, almost nothing scared him, but this large man; he was something else. “Doktor said not to say unless I want brain taken from me.” Even Heavy didn't know if there was or wasn't truth behind Medic's threats. “But I tell you dis: Doktor and Soldier meet in Poland before coming here.” And with that cryptic message, Heavy stood, bade his companion a good night and left for his quarters or to see Medic, leaving an utterly confused Texan in his wake.

“Well ah'll be darned. He ain't as dumb as he looks.” Engineer scratched the back of his head, looking down the neck of his last bottle in search of more liquid courage but finding none. In all these years he never had given Heavy the credit he deserved. Not to dwell on the Russian too long, he stood and exited with a sleepy limp, making his way to his own bed, but stopped halfway in the corridor of the dorms when a flicker coming from his left distracted his periferal. “What...?” He craned his neck around the door and saw Soldier talking in a soft growl to himself. Engineer tried his best to stay quite and listen.

“...can't be. By those rocks that like to yawn. Straight beyond that!.”

There was a pregnant pause, as if he was waiting for a reply. From Engineer's angle a telephone couldn't be seen and he recalled years previously that Soldier was not allowed outside contact. Last time he had the phone was when he was friends with the RED Demoman. Engineer wasn't sure what had happened between those two. They still didn't get along despite the merge.

Soldier began to speak again, as if in reply to something. “Of course you're right, but what if that Kraut gets in the way?” Another pause. “I like your thinking.” He cackled loudly and there was a soft noise of a clasp followed by a metallic chink, as if something was being folded shut. Engineer frowned and continued his trek down the hall, not wanting to talk to his fellow American just yet. At least he was awake and not dead. Well, he wouldn't die because of the Respawn, but at least Medic didn't send the man into a coma. But what was he talking about? He wasn't plotting anything against Medic, but the fact the man was mentioned meant danger. Who was he talking to?
Engineer opened the door to his room, closing it and locking all three bolts; can't be too careful, and removed his goggles. He squinted to release the tension the goggles gave him and stripped himself of his overalls and BLU shirt, leaving just his briefs and undershirt. Engineer was too distracted by his thoughts to even bother with his sweaty shirt and boots, lying down on his bed, his mind occupied of what Soldier could be up to. There was a familiarity to the click that got to him. He scratched his chest in thought and spoke to himself as he often did when thinking. “He was angry at the Doc, maybe he was just talking with his head.” The irony was not lost on the mechanic. “But what was he-” Having 11PhDs wasn't just about being smart; it was also about being a quick thinker and deducer, even with alcohol in his system. “SPAH!”

Scrambling up to put on his overalls, not even bothering with his coloured shirt or goggles, Engineer slammed against his door and made quick work of his locks before bursting through the door and running up the hall, stumbling into the various corners in a panic. “THERE'S A SPAH CREEPIN' ROUND HERE!!” His maniacal cries could rival that of Soldier but at least it got the attention of most of the team. Each member came out at almost the same time, each in different stages of undress but all carrying some kind of weapon. The only ones not present were Demo, Heavy and Medic; Heavy undoubtedly watching over his crazed friend while Demoman was still passed out.
“Whrmms mmrs sprmm?”

Engineer stopped and tried to translate the muffles, squinting at the firebug. “Soldier?”
The team looked at the man in question, who held his collapsible shovel in his hand, ready for war. His posture relaxed but bristled when he knew he was being accused of something. “What?! I don't know where some crouton-eating maggot is, you hippy!”

“Ah heard ya talkin' tah someone, Solly!”

Soldier walked towards the shorter man with purpose and bumped chest, a little too close to either of their comforts. “That was a confidential meeting, soldier!”

“With BLU or ROBOT Spah! Ya know we ain't allowed ta talk to 'em anymore! There weren't no one else in tha room wit'cha!”

“Iz sis true, Solduer?” Spy seemed calm enough for the situation to pocket his knife and draw a cigarette. Nothing seemed to flap the man, but judging by his stature, it was obvious he knew what was going on but kept it to himself, not wanting to be caught out on spying on his own teammates even though everyone kind of knew he was. Becoming invisible was a handy tool.

Soldier's helmet shifted to face the Frenchman. “No, you croutan-eating maggot-”

“That's orginal,” murmured Spy.

“It is! And there isn't a soup can in this base either!”

“Then who're talkin' to?”

“Shovel!”

Soldier didn't even look ashamed to admit that he'd been talking to an inanimate object, telling as if it were an actual person. Spy had a smug look on his face whilst the majority of the team frowned rather than display shocked looks. Shovel was a topic that rarely came up in front of the whole team, but when it did, Medic would come in with some sort of dose and knock Soldier out and get Heavy to take him to his Bay. Heavy would return and not talk to anyone. Engineer looked around with false hope. Having Soldier on another one of his psychotic moments made him concerned. “What'id say?”

Soldier scowled and grabbed Engineer's overalls, hoisting the stout man off his feet and growled, “that's private information, maggot!” Scout slunk out of Soldier's limited eyesight to behind with his bat and slung at his head.
“BOOM! Woo, da shot was taken and he scored!!” Scout whooped as the helmeted man crumpled to the floor, dropping Engineer on his was down. “You see that, hard-hat! I got'em good!”

“Ya darn kid! Ya coulda snapped his neck.” He bent down and rolled Soldier on his back and checked for a pulse. There was a strong one to be found. “Go get Heavy. He's in the Bay. Get'em tah pick up this mess.” Scout groaned but obeyed. He had been on the receiving end of Engineer's Jag, both colours, might he add, and it wasn't a good time.

Scout didn't go out of his way to be quick about getting Heavy. It's not like the big guy didn't like him. Said he was annoying though. Scout hadn't a clue what he was talking about. He was 100% lovable! But he did pick up speed when he heard a cry for help that sounded suspiciously like Medic. “Doc?” By the time he reached the MedBay though, Heavy had slammed the doors shut and locked it. Their eyes met. Heavy's wider than usual but drooped when he realized who who in front of him. “Whatsa matta wit' the Doc?”

Heavy loosened he grip on the door, rubbing his right wrist and walked away, ignoring Scout. When the kid poked him with his bat, he raised a brow. “Vhat!?”

“Engie needs ya to move Soldja.”

“Nyet,” he still nursed his wrist but had stopped walking, “Soldier can lie on ground. I am tired.” With that, Heavy made his way to his room and closed the door defiantly.

“Aww geez, ya fat lard! So friggin' lazy!” Scout ran back to where Soldier laid. Only Enigineer and Pyro were left. The two seemed to be discussing something but immediately stopped when he arrived. “Heavy ain't gonna do it. He's gotta sore hand, the wuss.” The Texan frowned accusingly. “Hey! I didn't do it!”

Engineer sighed. He was starting to feel bad for leaving Soldier on the ground but he justified it by reminding himself the the man was an insensitive jerk. And the fact he was a bit intoxicated and didn't bring his goggles. He swore under his breath. No wonder he kept bumping into those walls. Pyro looked at him quizzically, startled by his sudden change of mood. “Hhurr huu rhuuraay?”

The pyro had always been a good pal ever since they first met. Over the years he had been able to deduce what the thing was saying, having It as a protector for most of the days on the field. Pyro itself felt happy to be around the Texan. “Ah'm just tired, buddy. Ah'll see ya tomorrow.” He waved at the gasmask and stumbled back to his workshop/room, locking his door afterwards.

Not many of the team liked his room, even if they were allowed in on the rare occasion. It was the complete opposite of the Medical Bay. Oil-stained rags hung protectively over various mechanical parts and wrenches. Several tool boxes hung open with various tools and wires exposed. A massive chained box was kept hidden under a large cushion and a tiny kitten. Engineer made his way over to the latter and gave it a quick tickle with his gloved hand. “How ya sleepin', champ?” The kitten purred in reply. Engineer's expression softened. He liked his cat, never having it stray from his bucket on the field. It was good company when Pyro wasn't about.

With a tug of his glove and a yank of his overalls, it was finally time to crash. Even if he didn't have to get up tomorrow, he was still tired from today. Remembering to take off his shirt, Engineer flung the sweaty garment in the corner and collapsed on his bed, hands resting behind his head and on his chest, mildly stroking what little chest hair he had in contemplation. “Soon...” He closed his eyes and passed out, barely registering tiny paws padding along his legs and a small body nestling on his paunch.