My suggestion would be to start anew on the chan's workshop board and let this thread die. You might also want to post this on ff.net and t umblr and maybe even LJ if you're feeling particularly brave (the format on LJ is a thing to behold) and link it back into this thread and your new one. That way you get to start fresh and bring your audience with you without having the troubles in this thread poisoning your audience pool.

javascript:quote(149,%20'post11384');

I second lawlspy's suggestion of linking to a tumblr or ff.net address so that those who enjoyed it can read it away from all, the not so wonderful things that have been said about your a/fanfic. It'd be nice to be able to have it in one collected place without having to sift through all the other posts.

Either way it's up to you Eggwhites.

149
150
I actually did have this on FF.net, but I took it down because I feared having a flood of "this is shit lololol" pop up when everyone finally said how they feel.

As much as I wanted to keep it here, I feel like it's better off there. I was thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to bump this thread with a link with the new chapters? That way crit could still be posted here. That makes sense to me, but I could be wrong. If that doesn't sound too stupid, then that is what I'm going to do.

I just don't want to come off as, "Oh, some people said it was bad and now he wants to hide it so no one can see the negative comments."

P.s. Almost done with Part 11.

>>151
I just don't want to come off as, "Oh, some people said it was bad and now he wants to hide it so no one can see the negative comments."
That's exactly what lawlspy and the following Anon are suggesting you do, if you didn't quite catch that. :V I'm against putting anything on FF.net if only because it's a shitty site with next to no useful critique. On the other hand, although you do get people with negative opinions here, you also have gotten a fuckton of useful critique and impressions to work with, as well as users willing to discuss problem spots with you, all of which is far more useful than FF.net's relative obscurity of fiction and their comparatively useless readerbase.

152
Yep, then here it stays. That makes the most sense to me.

In any case, have an update.

Part 11

Warm, moist air breathed across his face and he felt pressure along his side. His naked body reacted as if he were being attacked; the muscles tensed as his arms rose to block. Strong hands caught his wrists without difficulty and held him still. The pressure increased as a weight settled across his torso.

"There will be none of that, little Pyro. Good morning," Medic murmured, bare chest laid snugly against the boy. Soft lips pressed to Pyro’s cheek and he made a noise of discomfort, shifting under the larger man for a moment. Finally, as he realized where he was, he calmed. After a few surprisingly tender and chaste moments, Medic pulled away. "Come, you must bathe."

"What?" The boy asked, confused. Medic didn't answer and helped Pyro to his feet before offering him a towel. Pyro accepted it, wrapping it around his hips and knotting it tightly as he watched Medic slip on a pair of rubber showering sandals and a pair of loose sleeping trousers. He wanted to ask more questions, but he knew better than that. Last night was, hopefully, the last painful thing he would have to endure for a long time... as long as he didn't piss off Medic again. 'Or until he decides to loan me to someone else for whatever fucking reason.'

As he followed Medic to the showers, Pyro caught glance of one of the hallway clocks. It was 0400. Why in the holy hell had Medic woken him so early? Pyro decided that this was one question he could ask.

"Medic?" he asked quietly.

"Mmm?"

"Why... why are we up so early?" Medic turned and smiled at him. It wasn't so much of a smile as it was a baring of teeth, and Pyro felt the first touches of fear strike through his system. What the fuck was Medic planning now?

"You will know soon.” He took the boy's hand in his larger one and patted it as one might pat a good dog's head. His hand was cool and dry, a stark contrast to Pyro’s sweaty flesh.

Pyro felt the familiar nausea overcome him. No, he didn't want to do this. Not this early in the morning, couldn't he at least have something to eat first? Fuming and consumed with dread, Pyro followed Medic into the locker room. His stomach flipped violently, he didn't want to see who else was there, but -

The room was empty. It was only the two of them. Medic slipped off his spectacles and his trousers, gesturing for Pyro to start the water. Pyro leaned against the wall so as to avoid the initially freezing spray and turned on two of the showerheads.

As he waited for the water to heat up to a comfortable temperature, Medic slipped up behind him. Hands snaked onto his hips, rubbing lightly and untying the towel. The man pressed closer to him and Pyro closed his eyes when he felt Medic's erection against his back.

"Here," Medic turned him around. Pyro flinched, but the other man only gave him a bar of standard issue soap. "Scrub yourself well; you need to be as clean as possible." The doctor stood at the spout next to Pyro and began to lather. Pyro began to clean himself as instructed and refused to look at Medic. The concrete floor beneath his feet was cold and rough and he focused on that rather than the man beside him.

"So why did you come to me last night? I know that you did not break out; you couldn't have picked the lock from outside. What happened?"

Pyro blinked. He couldn't tell the truth, he couldn't reveal Scout's secret. He wouldn’t do that to the one person who had actually helped him.

"Uh... it was like that when I woke up," he offered feebly.

"You are lying." It was not a question.

"Spy picked the lock, I think. I - I didn't see him. I heard the lock being picked and the chains being unwound, but when the doors opened there was no one there."

Medic muttered something in German and, while Pyro didn't understand the words, he did understand the tone. "I will have to speak with him. That does not answer my first question, however. Why did you come to me?" Pyro was quiet for a minute, deciding if it was wise to tell the truth: he had been so damn sore from Engineer's torture that it would have been hell to sleep on those tables… but that was nothing compared to his encompassing fear, the terror that pooled in his intestines and shrieked through his system every time Medic became angry. He didn't want to get in trouble; he didn’t want to suffer more of Medic’s punishment. Another round with Soldier or Engineer would kill him. ‘Kill me. Yes. But they’ve already done that, haven’t they.”

"I... was sore. Because of Engineer," he said quietly as he rinsed his hair. It was starting to grow too long, making the scarred patches more visible. The length he usually kept did a good job of hiding the hairless smears that streaked his scalp. "And I didn't want to be alone. I... wanted to be with you. I missed you." His face flushed from the lie, and he was sure that Medic knew that wasn't entirely the truth. There was a silence and Pyro’s heart thundered in his ears. 'Fuck, he knows. He knows.'

Beat. Beat. Beat.

"Oh Pyro," Medic finally said, voice soft. He reached out an arm and gathered his captive in a light embrace, "I knew you would come around. You are such a good boy, do you know that?" He kissed the warm forehead in a sympathetic gesture so unlike himself that Pyro shuddered with fear. Medic understood the boy’s trembling as nervousness rather than revulsion and let his lips brush over Pyro’s neck.

Thick fingers traced the mastectomy scars across his chest and Pyro groaned lowly. Those scars were sensitive, almost painfully so, and didn’t react well to contact. Medic kissed him again, harder this time. "Are you finished bathing?" Pyro nodded and stepped from the water, taking his towel from where it lay on a bench. The hinges on the locker room door wailed shrilly and the boy froze for an instant before he wrapped the towel around himself quickly. With deft fingers, he knotted the fabric ends tight.

"Is everything ready?" Medic asked, looking at the newcomer that emerged from around the corner. Pyro blinked.

"Yes, everything is ready."

"What-what's going on?" Pyro felt his nerves draw tight, and fear began to churn in the pit of his stomach. 'Now what?'

"Be quiet, little one," the German replied, but his voice did not betray any anger. He wrapped his own towel around his waist, "Stay with Heavy, I will see you soon." Without another word, he left, the screaming hinges announcing his final departure.

Pyro stared at Heavy for a moment, looking through him rather than at him.

"Are you okay?"

Pyro blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. He felt his fear boil away as rage swelled in its stead.

"What do you fucking think?”

The larger man sighed. “Come, follow me.” He gestured to leave the locker room and Pyro followed, suspicious.

“Can I at least have some clothes?” Pyro said quietly as Heavy led him down the halls. Right back to Medic’s quarters, actually.

“No, you will understand soon.”

Pyro suddenly stopped as if he had struck a wall of thick glass.

“No. I’m not doing this,” he gritted through clenched teeth. Heavy set a hand on his shoulder and Pyro jerked away, “This is just gonna be another… you’re just going to lead me right to them, like a sheep to slaughter!” He reared back, eyes wide, and without another thought he bolted. While not nearly as agile as Scout, Pyro was certainly faster than Heavy. Big hands tried to grasp him, but Pyro ducked away from their reach and ran.

“Pyro! That is not what this is! Please, listen to me,” Heavy called after him, “If you run, Medic will tear you apart when he catches you! And he will catch you. You know that.”

Pyro paused, about eleven meters from Heavy, and stared. “Stay there,” the younger one warned, “And talk.”

The door to the infirmary opened at that moment and Medic leaned out. He was wearing red surgical scrubs, as well as a matching mask and cap, and he was pissed.

“What is going on? Pyro, come here,” he demanded. Pyro froze. Medic was going to operate on him? What the fuck for?

“Pyro. I said come here,” Medic called again. The man’s voice was darkening and in that moment Pyro knew that Heavy had been telling the truth. If he ran… Medic would destroy him. He couldn’t run forever. Slowly, he walked towards Medic, who stood with an ugly scowl made uglier by the fact that it was only half-visible.

As soon as Pyro was within reaching distance, Medic grabbed him hard and handed him to Heavy. Vast palms clamped over his naked shoulders and Heavy literally pushed him into the medical bay.

The lights were on over the main operating table, the Medigun harnessed into the overhead rig. The table was flanked by –

“What the fuck is going on,” Pyro gasped, the acrid taste of panic souring his mouth. Engineer stood by the table, also wearing the hideous scarlet scrubs. There was a gleaming silver cart lined with surgical tools beside him.

Just as Pyro understood the scene, Heavy snatched him under the armpits and lifted him up. Automatically, Pyro twisted in the larger man’s grip, his fist cracking squarely across Heavy’s nose. With a rough bellow, Heavy dropped him. Pyro barely caught a glimpse of red blossoming across the Russian’s face before his feet hit the ground. Without even thinking, he shot for the door.

“Pyro!” Something smacked into his back lightly. Skidding into the hallway on his bare feet, Pyro bore left. He could feel a strange sting in his spine, radiating outward hot and fast. His mind swam as if he had fallen into a pit of warm jelly and his stomach threatened to empty itself. Pyro came to a shaky stop, wobbling on his feet like a newborn foal. All at once, vertigo overcame him and the floor rushed up to greet him.

Sprawled on his belly and still half-naked, Pyro stared blankly at the wall. His jaw hurt where it had impacted against the hard linoleum. As he lay there for a moment, he wondered why he wasn’t getting up. A strangled, wheezing cry escaped his lips when he realized that his limbs refused to cooperate. They had shot him with a fucking tranquilizer.

“Stupid, stupid girl,” Medic muttered darkly behind him. Hands grabbed his shoulders tightly, lifted him to his feet. As limp as a wilted rose, Pyro gaped at the other man. Medic hefted him up and over a strong shoulder easily and carried him back towards the infirmary. Heavy still stood in the hallway, covering his nose and mouth with one hand as blood trickled down his chin. Engineer was just outside the door holding a dart gun.

“Why did you let her run?” Medic spat at Heavy. The three filed into the medical bay and Pyro grunted as he was roughly laid on the operating table. Engineer stood on his right, watching him silently. He couldn’t see Heavy from this angle. He tried desperately to move, to get up, to do anything.

“I’m sorry,” Heavy said quietly.

“I don’t want an apology; I want you to successfully restrain a woman who is a third of your size. Go clean yourself up.” The doctor’s voice was bitter and sharp. Inwardly, Pyro winced. He felt his wrists and ankles being buckled into the straps at either end of the table.

“Now, little Pyro,” Medic turned his attention to his captive and leaned down to kiss Pyro’s lips. “I was going to give you some anesthesia so that this didn’t hurt, but I’m afraid that I can’t do that now. You shouldn’t have run from Heavy. Engineer, please give her another sedative. We don’t want any more escape attempts.” There was a quick sting in Pyro’s arm and he felt his mind thicken as if milk were curdling in his brain.

The Medigun clicked and hummed as it was turned on. Soft, warm fumes brushed against his naked chest as an opaque cloth was draped over his face. Pyro was too dizzy to panic, heart racing slightly faster but otherwise unresponsive.

A sharp burn traced across his chest and Pyro wished he could see. He cut off that thought just as quickly – did he really want to see?

“Hold that back. Good. Use a sponge – there.” Medic directed his ‘assistant’ with constant and firm demands. Engineer obeyed absolutely, a wicked smile hidden beneath the red mask. The Texan’s thoughts were on the procedure, yes, but also preoccupied with memories from the night before. He shivered slightly. The girl was beautiful when she cried.

On the inside, Pyro whined in irritation and wished he could move. Even though it didn’t really hurt – he had endured much, much worse on the battlefield – it still stung. His skin split easily under the scalpel, opening like a flower at dawn, and he heard Medic’s breath quicken. ‘Fucking sadist freak.’

Gloved fingers stroked along his insides, tying off veins and parting muscle from flesh. The relative coolness of the hands against his searing viscera made his mind flip as if diseased.
“Give me – yes,” Medic murmured, “Put your fingers right here, and hold it fast.” There was a whirr of a saw starting up and Pyro realized what was going to happen a mere second before the blade hit bone.

The grinding echoed through every part of him and Pyro actually managed to scream despite the sedatives, a piercing screech that made Engineer flinch. Pyro could feel the intense pressure as if it lay upon him like another body, pressing and pressing and –

His sternum finally snapped in what was simultaneously the most painful and most relieving thing Pyro had ever experienced. He felt warmth leak from his body. His heartbeat slowed, his breath nearly stopped and he was sure that he wasn’t going to survive this procedure. Sweat rolled down his body in fat, cold drops and he desperately prayed for death. Medic stopped and placed a finger to Pyro’s pulse point for a few moments.

“Hm, pity. She is unconscious,” the doctor groused, obviously disappointed. Revealing the heart, he turned to the cart at his side and picked up a small piece of red-streaked metal about the size of a postage stamp. Medic studied the device, “You are certain that this will work?” He locked eyes with his temporary assistant for a moment.

Pyro listened to the words as they slowly reached his ears. It took a long time for him to process each syllable, but he could understand the men as they spoke.

“How d’you think we caught Scout the other night? I told you, there’s just the one bug, but I’m working on it,” Engineer replied.

Medic chuckled dryly, “Yes, the invisible specimen. So you have told me.” Holding the steel chip in a pair of delicate tongs, Medic gestured to Engineer to shift the heart to one side. Carefully the other man did so, revealing the über mechanism already implanted in the lazily pumping organ.

With a hand as sure as fate, Medic made one last tiny incision next to the über chip and set the locator into the cut. Engineer turned up the intensity on the Medigun and the muscle reknit carefully around the metal as if the device belonged there. Slowly, the broken sternum closed back up.

“I just don’t get it,” the Texan shook his head as he watched Pyro’s flesh regenerate, “The locator never goes off, but I swear the signal bounces. Even if it says he’s in a certain area, sometimes he just ain’t. The chips are working fine, the radar is working fine. I just can’t figure it out. I thought the signals might be off kilter but they’re steady as rain.”

“Yes, fascinating,” Medic muttered, clearly bored with the Engineer’s musings. He had already started to clean up, placing the dirtied tools in a tray to be washed and autoclaved. He removed his mask and cap and tossed them in a trash can by the door.

Locator chips. Engineer had made a locator chip to find him. Medic had been paying Engineer back for something… this. It was this. Pyro’s mind spun as he remembered.

Scout had been loading and reloading his gun, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, as the words raced from his mouth. “It’s like Engie always knows where I am, even if I’m cloaked or disguised.”

“Your controller is already programmed, like I said it would be. I put it on your desk. It’s real easy to use.”

“Thank you, Engineer. Now, if you will kindly dismiss yourself. I will see you on the field soon.”

Engineer frowned for a split second, barely noticeable, before he stripped his own cap and mask off. Within another moment, he had gone from the infirmary.

“Heavy?” Medic called, unstrapping Pyro’s limp body from the restraints. Clear blue eyes glanced at the clock on the wall and read 0530. It would take perhaps an hour for Pyro to recover from both the surgery and the sedative, even with the constant application of the Medigun. Technology would always have its limits, the man mused. He took his time cleaning up the operating table and utensils, wiping with sanitized cloths as he stacked the glittering tools in a tray and organized them in a special washer that Engineer had built for him.

Heavy entered the room just as Medic was transferring his tools from the washer to the autoclave.

“Where have you been?” Medic asked, his voice indifferent.

“I do not like watching surgery,” the Russian admitted.

“Yet you will tear a man apart on the field without hesitation.” Heavy merely shrugged in response. “Keep an eye on her until I get back. Also, take a look at the Quick Fix. It has been choking again.” Medic left to his quarters, leaving Heavy and Pyro alone in the room.

Heavy took the Quick Fix from its cabinet and set it on another table, the closest one to Pyro. He switched the overhead light on and bright white flooded the room, so intense that Pyro could see it through the cloth still over his face. He listened to the soft clinks and clicks as the gun was taken apart. Suddenly Heavy’s activity paused.

“I do not know if you can hear me,” Heavy whispered, “But I will get you out of here.” Without another word, he returned to his work.

Pyro didn’t have the energy to think about what Heavy had said, not right now. He could feel the life ebbing slowly back into his fingertips and toes, spreading up his limbs and into his torso. The pain had long since faded and he reached up to pull the cloth off of his face. Heavy was instantly at his side, pulling off a pair of oil-stained rubber gloves to set a hand on Pyro’s shoulder.

“Can I get dressed,” Pyro asked vacantly, voice completely monotone. He looked at the Quick Fix, or at least the mess of parts that constituted it.

“Yes,” Heavy replied, allowing Pyro to get up. Neither of them spoke as Heavy led him out of the room, into the hall, down the stairs, to Pyro’s quarters. As they entered, he glanced at his salamanders. They needed to be fed, but Heavy pressed him to put on his uniform. Eyes averted, Pyro removed his towel and quickly slipped into a pair of briefs and an undershirt. Heavy paid the smaller man no mind, instead taking the moment to shake some of the freeze-dried crickets into the salamander tank.

He couldn’t let Heavy know that he had heard. He wasn’t exactly sure why. ‘He could be lying, like Medic. Maybe he knew I could hear, and is trying to gain my trust.’

Pyro pulled his mask snugly around his head and zipped his suit up. At least he had this. In his suit, he was safe. No one could touch him, or fuck him, or stare at his face. He turned to Heavy without a word and they went back upstairs.

You can tell just how evil and heartless Medic is; he uses the Quick Fix!

Also, I don't really understand keeping the original fic going if you plan on completely rewriting it simultaneously? Are you rewriting JUST to appease us?

Nice. I love the way Pyro and Scout get more and more trapped by their team. It's agonizing too, in a good way, hehe. Btw, with this chapter, we can assume that Medic helped with Scout's imprisionment? The stuff in the beer, the chip... i hope he did.

Oh, and i really hope Heavy does not turn into the "nice" guy, oh lord. It would be terrible...

I would be pretty picky about the surgery, too, but inside TF2 is kinda dumb to do it, considering the Medigun's properties. This shit would do wonders during surgical procedures (someone should really explore this aspect in some fanfic). Just pay atention to the pre-surgical, if ya want to be accurate when describing this type of stuff. It will be a good exercise too, writing about boring hygiene preparations in a exciting or poetic(?) way. Jesus, this would be strange, hehe

Keep up the work! I'm supporting you.

154
Planning on using this as a framework of sorts for the serious, non-wank-material version. Plus I just want to see where it goes. I have been doing a lot of research for the "serious" version, and I've been carefully outlining each character and their desires, wants, needs, past and present.

155 Somebody has to be the nice guy. Heavy might as well be it... or is he?

"pay atention to the pre-surgical, if ya want to be accurate when describing this type of stuff"
WHAT YOU MEAN THEY DON'T JUST CUT AND SLICE? Yeah, I know there is a lot more to it than what I wrote. I'm too squeamish to watch a surgery video and find out though...

You can still get crit posting somewhere else. You should let this die because there's as much hate as there is crit.

I have to say I'm a bit annoyed by that stance on surgery, Egg Whites. There are plenty of ways to research without subjecting yourself to objectionable content. It feels half-assed, to be honest. You should either choose to disregard real medicine entirely and rely on the medigun or do legit research. For example, cutting into a patient only partially sedated would be a disaster. The pain could very well send them into shock. The body would release adrenaline which would counteract sedatives, etc. etc. etc. The Pyro would be flailing and screaming, and their vitals would be haywire. There's no way you'd be able to saw through their ribcage, restraints or no.

If you're not willing to use youtube, use google. Hell, just ask for help in workshop. You want to cut your teeth into this fic, that's totally cool, but you shouldn't do this in here as there's the expectation your writing will be polished and make sense in the universe you've established, which it doesn't. That's not giving up or running away--that's recognizing weaknesses in your writing and striving to improve.

You might consider looking up reports of surgical cases (and they do exist) where the anesthesiologist has erred or has diluted the drugs to hide their own habit-driven theft, and the patient remained aware but immobile.

An interesting idea! At risk of scaring anyone off surgery, this happens when there's an erroneous ratio of drugs used in the anesthetic. An anesthetic is actually a mixture of meds that involve pain killers, muscle relaxants, and sedatives. When these are administered incorrectly, that's when you get people waking up in mid-surgery who can't move and/or can feel pain.

I know for a fact I'm neither the only nor most qualified medfag hanging around the chan, Egg Whites. You have all these resources here--use them!

As a side note to anyone else, apologies for slight derailing, is there a thread on here already that deals with Q&A research and subject matter? If not, might be useful to start one.

>>156

Haha XD, nooo, although it would be plain awesome if you had dedicated more attention to the surgical procedure, i wasn't really talking about it. It is a personal opinion, but i really think Medic don't need to worry about such things as bleedings, severe damages in vital organs, hypovolemic shocks and stuff. Srsly, i think Medigun reverses any losses in tissues and stuff(and i can imagine doing it in cellular level...so cool! I love Medic and Mediguns), and maintains the metabolisms of the individual. I guess the only damage Medigun doesn't takes care is acute, severe damage to cerebral structures (example: Sniper's headshot. It's K.O.), so, Medic can probably tear the whole bone structure off of the thorax (like he did with Pyro... lol i doubt there's a human surgical protocol involving taking out the WHOLE sternum! Quite invasive!) and not even worry about the postsurgical, hehe.

What i was talking about was the pre-surgical stuff, with those high standards of hygiene and antisepsis (boring as hell). I guess, if there's another thing Medigun can't handle, is infections. So, i guess if Medic took extra caution with bacterias, it would be pretty accurate and nice. And,like i said, a fucking challenge to talk about those things in a interesting and surrounding narrative.

When I started reading this fic I must admit I wasn't going to finish it. The thought of Pyro being a trans was, to say the least, weird. I have always preferred him to be a guy (of course it's just my opinion and I'm thankful he considers himself a male). I kept reading and soon noticed I can't stop. Pyro's story is tragic, but interesting. At some points I feel bad for him (like I bet most of us do) and wonder if it's even okay to enjoy this. Well, I enjoy it anyway!

To me Heavy fits in a good guy's role perfectly. And Medic... Gosh the surgery-part was creepy! But then again, he will always be our lovable, crazy doctor.

Can't wait to read more, your writing style is truly enjoyable. And please excuse me my clumsy English!

...I hope no one really thinks that surgery will make this story more intelligent, would they? Medic repeatedly hacking Pyro open does not a cerebral story make. That being said, while I can't really see this story as cerebral, I was genuinely surprised by how much controversy and hate it got and is still getting.

Mainly because I know this isn't the first or last rape fic to be on the chan. Tentaspy is really popular here considering he doesn't exist in canon, and a lot of his fics have rape. I don't see how rape with 1 guy and 8 tentacles is better than rape with 8 guys and 0 tentacles.

I dont just mean random fics either. I mean, really popular fics by BigNameFans have had stuff with either rape or attempted rape. Toxo's "Snuff" reveals that the Spy uses his belt to muzzle and rape people on the enemy team, and then he drugs and kills them so they respawn without remembering. Teratomarty has had fics where Medic tricks Sniper into eating erection pills or uses vibrators on Soldier, and tricking patients into sex under the false pretense of a medical exam definitely counts as rape. Even CatBountry, who spearheaded the attacks/critiques of this fic, has a scene in her famous Respawn of the Dead where Spy decides that Engie should either help him rape Sniper or die. Is that supposed to be a scene of powerful literary insight? No way at all. It just seems hypocritical that Discovery should be singled out.

And I'm saying this as someone who thinks Marty is a comic genius and that Toxo should use her beautiful prose for actual literature. Even if I like an author, I can admit when they're writing a scene with something that would be totally unacceptable in real life. I can still be disgusted and horrified by rape in real life while still enjoying a non-con fic. That's because I understand the difference between fantasy and reality. The only people who can't tell the difference are those who are insane.

We're a fetish site. That means we cater to fetishes and fantasies on the basis that they have no impact on real life. Non-con is and has always been merely one of those fantasies, and no more. The mere fact that non-con isn't based in reality means it's not at all dangerous.

And I agree that non-con fics have no psychological realism, but...I'm not sure vanilla porn is realistic either. Characters in vanilla porn drop their pants for the flimsiest of reasons, and how many afanfics completely forget about birth control or STD's? It seems that if you criticize non-con for being unrealistic, you might as well swear off porn together.

That's why it's so hard to write literary porn. Porn usually involves characters doing the dumbest things in order to fulfill your improbable fantasies. I'm not saying we should lower chan standards. I love this chan because we have standards. Nor am I saying that Discovery is well written, because the prose still isn't good enough to elevate its subject matter, but I do find some of the criticism for this fic hypocritical. Critique it for its bad prose and plot and lack of good characterization; god knows this fic badly needs the help. But as far as non-con goes, it seems odd to single out this story when non-con has otherwise existed quietly on this site, especially if the commenter has either written or enjoyed other fics with non-con herself. Or himself.

>>162

Dear, please, put "sage" in the email field, because you kinda off broked my heart now (even though i find these mistakes funny, hehe).


>>163

Don't worry. For me, i don't think it.

And, wow, i totally agree with you... it was one of the things i tried really hard to explain to people around here. And you did it with just a few paragraphs. Pretty nice.

P.S.:I know we ain't suppose to reply to each other anymore, and i apologize, but i really need to praise this comment.

This post has been deleted.

>>163

I don’t think the problem is that rape happens, Mimi, but that it happens so unrealistically. The fic presents itself as wholly serious while at the same time being comically exaggerated, and I think that’s a particularly triggering combination for many people.

The story keeps betraying its subject; it has Heavy participate in Pyro’s rape but then casts him as the good guy without a moment’s reflection. It has Pyro being subjected to gang rape but then change his mind and really want it—yes, some people are raped and involuntary orgasm, but it’s very traumatic for them; I doubt anyone has ever asked their rapist to go harder. It keeps crossing back and forth between serious!fic and fetish!fic, indulging orgiastically in brutal rape scenes one moment, engendering the reader’s sympathy the next, and thereby creates a powerful cognitive dissonance by making the reader fetishise their own rape-by-proxy.

I, for one, don’t mind non-con (the fic I’m most known for writing, ‘Addiction’, has Medic turning Scout into his personal cum-crack-whore, so yeah, I’m down with the freaky rape stuff), but I honestly couldn’t enjoy this fic. And when so many other non-con authors and readers speak up against it, it’s not because they’re all hypocrites. Whatever psychological fetish drama the writer tried to pull off, what they created instead is, judging by the response, probably the most triggering fic on the ‘chan. Done deliberately, I would’ve applauded the sheer level of mindfuckery—sadly, it’s accidental and the symptom of a fic at war with itself.

Whatever else it is—fetish fuel, author catharsis—this fic is also just plain bad research, bad characterisation, and bad writing, and I’d be surprised myself if the ‘chan didn’t react to that.

>>164

Thanks, iamerror. It's good to know my efforts have been appreciated. I actually wish I could've written my defense of non-con in fewer words, but such a heavy topic requires a bit of rhetoric, ne? If you like graphic novels, by the way, I recommend you read Alan Moore's "Lost Girls." Best celebration/defense of pornography I've ever seen in my life.

>>166

Oh, this fic has bad characterization and writing. Let me make that clear. Like Heavy, suddenly trying to become a "nice guy." There is no way this new plot element will work. If it turns out he's genuinely being nice, then the story will be poorly written because there is no way a rapist could do a 180 like that. If it turns out to be some sort of trap, then it's just poor little Pyro being caught in yet another butcher-fest. One reason I haven't spoken out earlier on the hypocrisy of some of the commenters is because I lost faith in this story months ago. I want to make it clear that I no longer believe it can be cerebral, and the sparse hopes I did have was more due to EggWhites being trans and less the actual writing, like Bountry said.

However, if you criticize "Discovery" for being unrealistic, I'm surprised you don't hate your own story as well. If it's unrealistic for Pyro to ask his rapists to go harder, then it's also unrealistic for Scout to go from hating being restrained by the Medic, to loving being restrained by the Medic, to vomiting from being raped by the Medic, and then suddenly asking for more the moment he's uncuffed. But that's what happens in "Addiction," the story you just promoted in your post.

I don't think this story has gotten more hate than other fics because it's semi-realistic without being realistic enough. (For one thing, it's not realistic at all.) I think this story has gotten more hate because it doesn't have the kind of rape that most people on this chan likes.

Like your fic, for example. In "Addiction," Scout is drugged so he ends up begging for sex with Medic. Therefore, he stops protesting, and it gives the illusion of consent. I also reposted a fic called "Domination" in the Class/You thread where a female Spy sneaks into the enemy Engie's workshop and rapes him, but then Engie decides he likes being submissive and goes back to her in a long term relationship. That story was received with aplomb, because Engie himself ended up ok with it. It was completely unrealistic that he'd be so ok with it, but no one complained because that way nobody had to feel guilty about enjoying his trauma.

I've noticed that non-con fics tend to be better received overall if the victim of the rape ends up enjoying it emotionally, not just physically, with minimal violence involved. That's the kind of rape people here apparently want to read about. The kind where they can pretend rape isn't actually happening.

That's what I mean by hypocrisy. I hate it when people try to justify the kind of rape fics they like by acting like it's better than other kinds of rape fics. "Oh, this fic has violent rape! That's not right! I only write fics where someone is drugged." "Oh, the victim's crying? But that's too depressing! I want him to consent every time after the first time!" "Oh, this fic has trans rape! That's horrible! I've liked dozens of gay male rape fics here, but trans rape? Now that's just wrong!" No, they're all equally inviable. None of them are immoral, because they're all fantasies, but one kind of non-con isn't inherently "more acceptable" than the other.

I will acknowledge that one other big reason Eggwhites got so much criticism is because he said he wanted to make his story cerebral. This is the worst thing non-literary porn writers can do to themselves, because it causes them to be held to actual story standards instead of porn standards. You can't claim to write an intelligent story and then use the "it's just afanfic" defense. That's just irresponsible. And it was also irresponsible not to have a non-con disclaimer, so people who might trigger could know to avoid this page.

But with all due respect, Cyan, this is exactly the kind of hypocrisy I'm talking about. You say that this fic is a semi "serious!fic" because it conveys the fact that Pyro's in a bad situation and tries to get us to sympathize with him. (Wouldn't he need a personality for us to sympathize with him first?) So Pyro crying is too much, but Scout having his brain altered is a-ok? Pyro feeling bad is "serious" but Scout getting drugged is somehow not?

>>167

Thanks for your reply, Mimi. However, this thread isn’t the right place to discuss the elements of my stories; that would be thread derailment. If you want to comment further on ‘Addiction’ (and I would value your critique!), please send me a message on tumblr (http://writingcyan.tumblr.com).

I've noticed that non-con fics tend to be better received overall if the victim of the rape ends up enjoying it emotionally, not just physically, with minimal violence involved.
It’s an interesting point, but if this was the case I don’t think straight-out rapefics such as ‘Breaking Point’ and those based on the evil!Medic trope would be so generally well received. I think the overall critique of this fic boils down to the fact that it’s just badly written; there’s no hypocrisy in only enjoying well-written (rape)fics.

In any case, I didn’t mean to get involved in the controversy surrounding this fic; I only commented to suggest that cognitive dissonance might explain why so many hardened ‘chan regulars are experiencing negative reactions. I’ll be bowing out of the discussion now; if you wish to talk further, please do catch me on tumblr.

So all this aside, can we just let Egg finish the story? If you don't like it, don't read it. I have been reading it because I stumbled accross this site looking up pyro weapon sets. It sucks starting any story and not being able to know the end.

why. WHY did you bump this. WHY.

>>169

The "don't like, don't read" argument has already been discussed. Please don't bump this thread again.

Wonderful! Please, do continue soon. I feel so sorry for the Pyro, his suffering never seems to end... Interesting to see how it will continue from here.

You're a strong writer. You keep continuing, even if people throw their laughable critique at you (honestly, no-one is really assuming this fiction to be better even if you'd study surgery for five years). That is very admirable and so is your style of writing. The reader feels the pain Pyro goes through and that's something you can be proud of. This fic is dark, something you don't meet too often. Please continue soon, I'm looking forward to see where this is going.

does anyone know what happened to EggWhites?
Has this thread been bumped?

Oh man, please, sage! You kinda broked my heart now.

But i ask myself the same question. I wonder where he is, and if he is alright.


Does anyone know if he has a tumblr or somethin'?

>>175
i didn't sage for a reason

Aaaaaahhhh I was hoping for an update..! But yes, I have been wondering the same. I hate when morons start bashing the writers and fics with half-assed reasons. I love this story. I love the characters, I love the Pyro, the Medic, the idea of Heavy being a good guy and only following the doctors orders, absolutely everything. I'd hate to see this dying, I enjoyed reading this incredibly much, even if I felt incredibly bad about it at the same time.

Oh man this fic, I agree I loved it yet I felt terrible because I did. I am not sure if I am correct or not, but wasn't another reason Eggwhites was writing was for some kind of therapy? I cant remember if he was and if so, I hope nothing bad has happened. Anybody know anything or if what my memory is telling me is true? Miss them.

I started reading this fic like any other afanfic, but then the reality of the situation settled in and I kept going out of a need to finish the story. Then the arguments started, and I fully agree with them. Thank you, I'm staying away from this thread from now on.

I started reading this fic like any other afanfic, but then the reality of the situation settled in and I kept going out of a need to finish the story. Then the arguments started, and I fully agree with them. Thank you, I'm staying away from this thread from now on.

Hello everyone. It’s been a while. I had given up on this, too discouraged to keep on, but I have received so many emails (and fan art?!!) that I’ve been thinking about starting again. And then, when I saw that someone had bumped this thread… well. i have written the next part.

would anyone like to help proofread? my former proof-reader disappeared, so... my email is on post #26 (i didn't want to bump the thread without content).

thanks everyone, for all crit both positive and negative.

Ps. I don't remember how to trip code?

I took a lot of the crit, both positive and negative, to heart. Here goes nothing. I realize that the style is very different now, sorry. I'm not the same writer that I was then.

If you're interested in helping me proof-read chapters, feel free to say something or email me.

-

Pyro felt the soft euphoria of the medi-gun on him, heard Medic yell behind him. Soldier blasted ahead on a rocket and Engineer's sentry beeped in the distance. He could hear the dull roar of Heavy's minigun.

This track was called "Gold Rush" and Pyro hated it.

"Go!" Soldier bellowed like a thunder clap.

"I'm going to pop this as we go around the corner. Take them out," Medic was suddenly close to him, shouting so that Pyro could hear him through the heavy gasmask. Pyro chittered a reply in agreement, glanced behind them at Demo and Sniper.

He turned the corner and his blood sang with invulnerability. He blasted a handful of BLUs off of the cart, ignited a Scout and reflected a rocket back into the BLU Soldier's ugly face. Pyro smiled to himself - the BLU Soldier looked similar enough to their Soldier that it was easy to take pleasure in watching him die. They backed up, regrouped with Demo and Heavy and Pyro dimly heard Medic praising him. He muffled a thank you, but was cut off by a succession of messy bombs that knocked him on his ass and kicked up a mighty cloud of smoke and dust.

Pyro blasted to try and clear the air, struggled to his feet, simultaneously heard Medic and Heavy die. He ducked into one of the huge barn-like sheds, raced up the stairs for a higher vantage point. He found the BLU Sniper hiding in a room, killed him with an ax to the skull. The man hadn't even noticed Pyro, glued to his scope at the window. Grenades popped in behind him and Pyro backed up into a dead-end room. He was trapped. The BLU Demo was talking to him, but Pyro couldn't understand - he blasted the grenades away, heard them explode on their owner. Maybe he could escape now. He glanced out the window - the cart was abandoned. Where was everyone else? He tried to rev his flamethrower and it sputtered in the empty room. Out of ammo.

He swapped to his shotgun, pushed out from the room and down a hallway.

"Hey you rubber freak!" a BLU Scout hollered behind him and Pyro turned to shoot. He heard the sound of a cloak dissipating and realized too late that the Scout was a distraction, realized just as the blade sank into his back. He collapsed to his knees, gasped, and died.

Respawn smelled horrible, like ammunition and antiseptic, like a hospital in a war zone. The stench was bad enough the Pyro could notice it through his mask. He exited the building quickly, took a wheezing breath of fresh air, and Scout came blazing towards him.

"INCOMING!" An ubered Demo came around the corner behind Scout and Pyro launched into action.

"OVER HERE CHUCKLE NUTS," Scout bellowed to the Demo, dancing just a few feet ahead of the blast radius. With the Demo distracted, Pyro flanked and blasted the Medic away. The uber faded and Pyro was ready; he dodged the swing of the doctor's saw and hacked the man in two with his ax. Blood spattered his suit, his lenses, and Pyro wiped a hand over the dark plastic. The fluid only smeared and he frowned.

He turned back to Scout, who was staring at something. Pyro followed his gaze and wasn't sure he understood what he was seeing.

Their Soldier knelt above the dead BLU Demo about fifteen feet away, directly in front of the Respawn door, and he was beating the corpse in the head with his shovel as if his life depended on it. The face was long gone, a mash of hamburger meat under the man’s fury. Pyro's stomach lurched and he looked away. He stared at Soldier's helmet, cast aside in the dirt by the Demo's feet.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Scout felt ashamed at the pitch of his screech, but received no answer. Soldier flinched as if he just then noticed Scout and Pyro there and stood up quickly. He dropped his shovel in exchange for his launcher, aimed at his feet as he crouched.

"GET ON THE POINT MAGGOTS!"

And he was gone, launched away like a deranged missile.
"What the fuck was that," Pyro muttered. Scout said something that sounded agreeable. Demo came out of Respawn just as his BLU counterpart faded into nothingness and cheered happily. He was drunk and fighting; by far his preferred state.

"Let's go lads!"

-

Medic's fingers threaded through his hair. They were in the Medic's office and had just eaten dinner. The night's supper of lasagna wasn't sitting well with Pyro's stomach and he leaned against Medic's desk wearily as the doctor touched him. The doves cooed from a cage in the corner of the room.

"Your hair is so soft," the German remarked, "You did well on the field today, and you made the right choice this morning to come back to me. Your evening is yours to use as you see fit... you must return no later than nine o'clock. Do you understand?" Pyro nodded, chewed his lip to keep from making a smart comment. Despite the man's words, Medic continued to pet him, continued to stand close enough that Pyro could feel the dull pressure of body heat.

"Do you understand what happened this morning?" Medic asked. Pyro shook his head no, wondered if perhaps Medic couldn't smell his lie, "Well, let us just say that... it would not be any use of you to hide from me any longer." Pyro remained silent, stared at the wall, didn't respond when the hands brushed down his arms. A soft kiss was pressed to his temple.

"Doctor? The Quick Fix is 'quick fix'ed," Heavy chuckled at his own joke as the med bay door creaked open. He carried the Quick Fix gingerly, but in his massive hands the gun looked miniscule. The metal shone with oil and not a single blemish marred the chrome. He set the gun on one of the gleaming tables, looked into the office where Medic and Pyro stood. Only now did Medic move away, leave Pyro's side to inspect the returned device.

Pyro wondered if he could leave now. As the two men began to talk shop, he carefully inched towards the door. Medic either didn't notice or didn't care, and Pyro escaped to the hall. The fluorescent lighting flickered, irritating, but it was infinitely better than the sterile white, white, white of the med bay. The hall was empty, but the voices of Demo and Engineer echoed from the rec room, too garbled to understand. Pyro swallowed thickly and set for his basement.

-

He wasn’t prepared to see Spy sitting on his bed when he opened the door to his room and he bristled instinctively.

“It’s me,” the Spy said before Pyro could speak, but it was Scout’s voice, and the disguise shimmered away. “I know Spy said he’s… protectin’ me, but I still don’t trust any of them.” Pyro sighed, relieved, immediately preoccupied himself with his ravenous and thirsty salamanders.

“Scared me to death,” he muttered, but he wasn’t actually angry and Scout knew it. He hadn’t been expecting anyone to be down here, let alone Scout. Pyro frowned inwardly, he couldn’t decide if it was weird that Scout had been waiting for him. Scout produced a baseball and mitt from underneath him.

“You were sitting on that?”

“Where else was I supposed to put it?" He put the mitt on, began to toss the ball and catch it again and the two of them were quiet for a minute or two. Pyro sat at his desk, stared at his salamanders. He wanted to talk, but he didn't know what to say.

"Do you know why Soldier..." Scout didn't finish his question and Pyro shifted his gaze to the floor. The image flooded his mind - Soldier's bared teeth, the blood flecked over his face and shirt as he mutilated the BLUs face.

"No," Pyro finally answered, "He's insane."

"Well yeah but, I mean, that Demo was dead." They didn't mess with bodies. Even the heads that Soldier occasionally collected and bellowed at, he collected them while their owners were 'alive'. "You just don't fuck with the dead."

"We die a hundred times a day, but still respect corpses," Pyro observed, mostly to himself. Scout stopped tossing his ball to look at his friend. "I guess that's one of those things you just don't get used to."

"You said it," Scout agreed after a moment. "Well, I mean, I guess I never thought about it."

"Why should we?"

For this, Scout had no answer. He resumed tossing his ball, catching it, tossing it, but looked away.

"Anyway, you want to like, go throw or something?” he asked, “I got another mitt in my room. You’re right handed, yeah?” Scout’s voice was as loud and brazen as usual, but something was missing and Pyro felt his heart break just that much more.

“Left-handed, but I'll manage.”

Scout rose to his feet, moved towards the door and Pyro followed. At the last second, Pyro reached out to touch the thin shoulder. Scout stopped, turned to look at him.

“Py?”

Pyro didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, or at least he thought he did. He pulled his hand away quickly, as if touching Scout had physically hurt.

“You don’t have to say anythin’,” Scout’s voice was a mere whisper, and then he continued out the door. The halls were empty, much their combined relief, and they retrieved Scout’s second mitt without difficulty. Just as they were home free with the exit door in sight: it opened and Engineer stepped in, hauling what looked like a new minigun. His gaze was unavoidable and he stared at them with a lecherous hunger. Pyro almost stopped dead in his tracks but kept going, forced himself to keep up with Scout.

“Good evenin’ boys,” Engineer’s voice trailed like acid behind them but they didn’t stop. Once outside, Scout broke into a light jog. Pyro kept up, thankful for the chance to stretch his legs in peace, thankful for the chance to be away from Engineer and Medic and all of the others.

The endless desert stretched before them, red and ugly. Three-meter tall steel fences cast black marks upon the ground and gleamed cruelly in the late afternoon sun. The sun wouldn’t set until eight thirty or so, giving Scout and Pyro about two hours of light.

The two men threw the baseball back and forth, back and forth, until the sun began to set. The physical distance between them inhibited discussion, and for a long while there was no sound except the soft clap of the baseball against mitt. When the sun reached the end of the sky and began to fall, Scout finally did not throw the ball back. Instead he came to Pyro’s side, watched the darkening horizon.

“I talked to the Administrator,” he breathed in a quick rush, and it was apparent that he had been sitting on this information the entire time. He reeked of sweat and fear and it made Pyro slightly nauseous. He almost wished he had his mask on, “She said ‘internal quarrels’ aren’t worthy of a fuckin’ breach of contract. They don’t care.” Pyro blinked, a little stunned.

“You- you told them?” his voice had gone a pitch higher, but his throat felt so tight that he had no option.

“Not everything,” Scout admitted, “Just… uh, that we had some fights.”

“Some fights.” Pyro’s laugh was as dry as the sand that crunched beneath their feet. “Yeah. Sure. I don’t know about you, but my contract was pretty firm in its ‘no backsies’ policy.” He was being mean, but he couldn’t stop the edged words that fell from his mouth like warheads. His head swam with what had been done to him, what had been done to Scout, over the past few weeks. “Some fights,” he muttered again, mostly to himself.

Scout just shrugged, “Yeah but. I thought it was at least worth a shot.”

He was right about that. Pyro tore his gaze from the purple and cyan sky. It was twenty minutes until nine and he needed to get back to Medic.

“I have to get going, Scout. I, uh…” he felt uncomfortable saying it.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” replied the younger man. Scout just stood there staring at the sunset, even as Pyro walked back to the door and entered the base.

The door closed and Pyro wondered what Scout had been looking at.

Oh my God! You're back!! Thank you for this, I have been waiting so long for an update and now... I'm grinning like an idiot writing this comment, just too goddamn happy to hear from you.
I really hope you will find a new proof-reader. I would love to help somehow but as English isn't my first language I wouldn't be very useful.
Thank you again for this chapter, I hope to read more soon in the future. It's great to have you back.

Like the new style, looking forward for more.

ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohm
ygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod

EggWhites i love you

Hello there, dear. Welcome back.

So, let's go step by step, slowly.

First, i'll say that i'll look to this chapter like you wanted to write a more deep, complex story, not a PWP or somethin'. If it isn't what you have in mind with this fresh start, please tell me and i'll do another review.

I'll talk about what caught my attention:

Scout and Pyro relationship: i think this actually adds a lot to the story. Especially with you focus their relationship not like they are suddenly BFFs in their pain, totally just because they share a horrid and dramatic circunstance in common - that would be very unrealistic. Not saying you are doing this! Actually, you aren't, but you are avoiding to explore so many potentials with these two. Isn't there a secret Pyro is struggling with, if he should or not talk about with Scout? Isn't Scout expecting a forgiviness from Pyro(not implying you should make him accept the apologize, of course. This will be left to your own criterion)? Aren't they feeling, deep inside and despite not really liking each other, some kind of connection? All this makes me think of a very strong and at the same time strange relationship where they don't really compatible as friends, but they somewhat believe in each other. Isn't this a nice field to explore?

The Admin: I think you didn't really put much effort in this aspect. I mean, not saying that the Administrator would be all worried about the tortures, even if Scout was more descriptive. Considering the canon stuff, i kinda doubt that they give any fucks to their mercenaries, as long as they are killing each other. But there are many other ways to introduce the important detail of Scout and Pyro looking for help with their employers. What if, suddenly, Scout and Pyro make clear to the Admin they aren't working anymore if she doesn't help? Or what about they keep trying to talk some sense into Admin's cold heart, but their messages are being intercepted by their team, or somethin'? Again, there are other many, richer ways to explore somethin', but you aren't doing. It feels, for me, like you aren't working wrong on these new elements you're put in the story, but not as great and complex as it you could be doing.

Their torturers: it's a pretty hard topic to me to talk about, because there's only one chapter with your new style, and it didn't show much about them. Apparently - and i can be wrong - you didn't make many improvements with their characterizations. I'll wait, though, for more chapters, so i can tell you my opinion. I'll tell you somethin' in advance, anyway: work them way more. Talk about them. You don't have to fall in that crap about "human monsters" that is a common sense among people, that says if-you-have-zero-empathy-for-people-to-the-point-you-kill-torture-rape-you-have-suffered-a-traumatic-childhood/happening or something to make them look "deep" or "complex". Not necessarily. But show them more to us. I think a good way to do so is make Pyro -since he is the main protagonist - observe them more at the time he is forced to stay in their company: what they say, their hobbies, their rooms, etc, all in his POV. You portrait Pyro as a observer and sensitive young man, so I think this is a will be extremely interesting.

The sexual violence(or any violence at all): I'll be very sincere. I don't mind the violence, I started to read your fanfic because of it, I love it, it arouses me. And, as i said once to you, i think if you mix such graphic stuff you write so nicely with all these new details you want to put in your story to enrich it, i think it'll be awesome as fuck. But, as advice, I tell you to put it aside sometimes (like you did in this chapter: it is still there, threatening Pyro and Scout, but it didn't really happened something)and to consider "showing" it sometimes in a very subtle, suggestive way (not saying the suggestions are better than descriptive scenarios. But it certainly has a unique power to horrify and scare that is different from the graphic stuff).

Whoa, that's kinda long, i guess. By now, i think this is all i have to offer you about this chapter. I hope this helps. And i wish you good luck with this new attempt (that i personally approve greatly, just sayin').

P.S.: forgive any ugly and dumb mistake i made with the poor English, it ain't my first language.

Ohh Eggwhites, so glad to see that you are back and continuing this fic.

did i remember the right tripcode this time? thank you for all the crit, it is appreciated and taken to heart.

-

He had forgotten to tell Scout about the locator chips. Fuck.

Pyro stopped in front of Medic's door. Should he knock or just go in? Pyro chose the former and tapped his knuckles against the wood. The hallway was cold and he shivered a little, waiting for a response. The blindingly bright lights in the hall, coupled with the cold, emphasized the feeling of being alone. At least Medic's room would be dark.

The door opened wide and the doctor beamed at him.

"Good boy," Medic praised, reached out to stroke his hair, "Did you and Scout have fun?" Pyro blinked, realized that it would have been easy to see Scout and him from a window.

Did Medic know that Scout had been waiting for Pyro in his room?

Instead of giving Medic a vocal answer, he put his head against Medic's shoulder. Not out of affection, but in defeat. He didn't know what Medic knew, he couldn't know. This was how it was going to be. Why the fuck is it so cold in here?

Hands clasped his shoulders and rubbed. It would have felt good if Pyro didn't want to break every bone in Medic's body.

"Take off your clothes, it is time to sleep." Pyro looked away; the German was wearing standard pajamas: a white t-shirt and red athletic shorts. Medic made no move to remove his clothing and got into the made bed. Pyro still hadn't moved to undress.

"Pyro," Medic warned.

He reached up, tugged his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor, knelt and unlaced his boots. God, he didn't want to be naked with Medic. He could feel Medic's eyes on him as he yanked his pants and briefs down; he could hear the man's even breathing. Naked, he slipped under the covers quickly to hide. His skin crawled with goose bumps and he shivered.

Then Medic reached out and grabbed him and holy hell, the man radiated heat like a fire. Pyro thawed slowly under the warm touch, cooperated just enough to avoid reprimand. He returned the unwanted kisses and his heart shrank. He couldn't stop shaking. Thankfully, Medic made no move to progress things further, instead tucking Pyro in close to him.

Pyro thought he would have at least welcomed the body heat, but after a few minutes it just made him feel clammy and sick. He lay miserably in Medic's arms until the German fell asleep and stared at the ceiling until he finally passed out.

-

Hands pressed on his chest and Pyro sat up.

"Shhh," Medic comforted, laid him back down. He felt a weight settle on the bed, turned to see Heavy sitting beside him.

"Wh-" his question was cut off with a kiss. Heavy pressed him into the bed and Pyro felt groggy and angry. He wanted to punch Heavy in the face. The fucking liar! Pyro physically pushed the other man off of him, putting all his strength into a mighty shove. Consequences be damned; Heavy pulled back.

"I don't feel well," Pyro ventured before Medic could yell at him. Shit, shit shit. "Please, I feel sick." He tried to make his best sick face, tried to beg Medic with his eyes. His fingers twitched, but he forced himself through it.

"You feel ill?" Medic sounded genuinely concerned, "What is your ailment?"

"Like I'm gonna puke," Pyro was almost convincing himself now and grimaced as his stomach began to rumble, "Please, Medic."

Hands soothed over his shoulders, helped him sit up. Medic's cool fingers brushed against his neck, pressed against his pulse point, swept over his lymph nodes. Pyro's belly roiled suddenly, as if it believed him completely.

"What are your other symptoms?"

Pyro belched, frowned at the acrid taste, then promptly leaned over the bed and vomited into the trash can. He felt weak suddenly, as frail as a newborn kitten. A hand rubbed his back - he couldn't tell whose. Bile seared his throat like fire and he sat on the floor in front of the plastic bin. His mouth tasted rotten, his tongue was furry from sleep and Pyro wanted nothing more than to blast both Heavy and Medic into the next fucking dimension. Why was he so nauseous?

Heavy dressed him and took him to the med bay, where the Russian laid him on a table. Medic trained the medigun on him from where the device hung in its complicated rack above the table. The warm tickle crept over Pyro's body, soothed his stomach a little. Medic glanced at the clock.

"Do you think you will be able to eat? Do you think you will be too ill to fight today?" Pyro shrugged in answer to both questions. The vapor from the medigun smelled sweet, like Scout's cherry pop, and filled his chest with a comforting pressure. The nausea evaporated, his vision cleared.

"I think I'll be okay. Th... Thanks, Doc." It felt weird, apologizing to such a monster of a man. It was now that he noticed Heavy lingering by the door. Medic nodded in return, went back to his room. Pyro watched Heavy, and Heavy watched
Pyro. The Russian took a step closer.

"Pyro-"

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say," his words snapped with rage and Heavy shut up, actually left the room. Five minutes passed and neither man came back. They had gone to breakfast.

"He fucking better bring me back something to eat or so help me God," Pyro cursed under his breath. There was no one to hear him, but it felt good to vent. The rays of the medigun had worked their magic; his blood shook with gratitude and his stomach felt calm. He had no idea why he had vomited, or how he had done it. He slid off the table, went to a sink across the room. Pyro rinsed his mouth, cupping his hands under the frigid water and sipping carefully from the little makeshift bowl.

Soft hoots fluttered from Medic's office. Pyro spat and rinsed again, wiped his hands off with a paper towel. He drifted towards the office, intrigued. He couldn't deny that he was drawn to animals of all kinds - maybe because they didn't care that he was thirty percent scar tissue. The office door swung open silently and Pyro flicked the light on.

Medic's respectably sized office was as tidy as one would expect, with paperwork and files neatly stacked on his desk. A few bookcases were lined with color-coded files and medical literature, thick leather tomes that undoubtedly cost a fortune. A few imposing steel filing cabinets stood like sentries, guarding the information within with shiny locks that required a fingerprint to open. The large bird cage in the farthest was covered with a drape cloth, and Pyro pulled it off.

The four doves within cooed at him, but seemed disappointed. Perhaps they had been expecting Medic? The doves watched Pyro cautiously, their bright eyes following his movements. One ruffled its feathers to look larger and more intimidating.

"What are you puffing up for?" Pyro asked, sure to keep his voice gentle, "I'm not going to hurt you." He stepped back; he didn't want to scare the birds and therefore lose hope of ever gaining their trust. Birds were flightly creatures. Pyro chuckled at his pun, leaned against the desk and watched the doves groom each other. He used to have birds, when he was little. What were their names?

There was an open file on Medic's desk, white papers veined with Medic's impeccable handwriting. He spoke German but their employer did not, and so the files were all in English.

That wasn't what drew Pyro's attention though. There was a black and white picture of soldier clipped to the front page. He circled the desk to read the precise text.

Patient has exhibited a clear increase in violent behavior. Aggression rates via the Hale Rage Test have increased by 13% since last scan (48 hours prior). There is no apparent physiological cause for this behavior at this time. All hormone levels are within normal limits. Patient's endocrine system is flawless.

This trend has been present in several other patients, prompting a need to inspect environmental factors.

Pyro blinked, turned the page, and was met with a picture of Engineer. He skimmed the page quickly.

Patient has expressed increased aggression that seems to exponentially progress. Aggression rates via the Hale Rage Test have increased by 23% since last exam (48 hours prior). Patient outlets this aggression via sexual and physical violence upon weaker team members.

"Pyro," Medic called from the other room. Pyro reacted like a shot, placed the folder back precisely as he had found it and turned his attention back to the doves. The German loomed in the doorway, eyed him as he stood by the cage bars. The birds had grown accustomed to his presence and cooed at him.

"I was talking to the doves," his voice was thin and innocent, "They seemed... lonely."

Medic smiled, "Yes, you do seem to have an attachment to animals. Look, Pythagoras likes you." True to his word, one of the smaller doves had come closer to Pyro. Medic came to Pyro's side, opened the cage. One bird bustled out immediately, demanding in its need to greet its caretaker. It fluttered to Medic's shoulder to nuzzle.

"Archimedes," the man cooed in response. Medic seemed to have forgotten that Pyro was there, completely absorbed with inspecting his birds. Soft German drifted from his lips and Pyro stood back to watch. Medic was incredibly gentle with his birds and Pyro felt a pang of anger. This man placed these doves above him. Would Medic rape his beloved Archimedes? Pyro crossed his arms over his chest, looked out into the empty med bay.

"Now, my little one," Medic's sudden switch to English jerked Pyro from his thoughts, "How are you feeling?" Pyro turned; Medic had put Archimedes back in the cage and now stood much too close for comfort.

"... Better." No matter how much he tried, Pyro couldn't meet the other man's eyes.

"I should assume, seeing as you entered my office without permission. Are you hungry?"

Pyro's face burned. "Yes." Very hungry, in fact. He was guided out of the office and Medic closed the door despite the insistent calls of the birds within. There was a tray of food on one of the counters and a glass of orange juice. Pyro's stomach rumbled again, but not from sickness. Medic chuckled.

"You may have breakfast in a moment. But first." Large fingers tangled in Pyro's hair, pushed the younger man to his knees. "Go on..."

Pyro was still for a moment or two, debating with himself, surprised that Medic tolerated his hesitation. With a frozen sigh, Pyro closed his eyes and made his choice.

Medic, for the record, was thrilled.

-

He gagged in his flame-retardant suit. The taste wouldn't leave his mouth, no matter what he did. He had brushed his teeth until his gums bled and now his mouth reeked of blood and Medic's semen and toothpaste. Pyro walked slowly behind Medic, visibly wilted, his ax and shotgun strapped to his back. Heavy and Engineer were walking with Medic, the three men discussing something. Pyro wasn't listening; instead he was focused on putting as much physical distance as possible between himself and the three men without getting in trouble. He wanted to talk to Scout.

He wanted to strangle Medic with his bare hands.

He wanted to blow the whole fucking base sky high.

Maybe Scout had had the right idea with telling the Administrator. Their contracts had been very firm in that regard though: the eighty-six page document had explicitly spelled out that withdrawal from the contract was impossible. Scout had lied though, had said they were fighting. He had said nothing about the rapes. If RED knew, though, wouldn't that be severe enough to warrant some kind of action? If they knew.

Pyro actually stopped walking as his wandering eyes caught a familiar presence in the corner.

What if the Administrator already knew. There were cameras all over base, everywhere except for the merc's private rooms. The rec room, the kitchen, Engineer's workshop, the med bay, Demo's lab. The knowledge that he was constantly on film had become so ingrained that he had never even thought of it before. That was a lot of cameras to watch though, that would require a lot of monitoring. Then again... if RED could keep track of how many times he fired his goddamn air blast, how many times Sniper threw piss on someone...

They already knew.

"Pyro!" The backhand came unexpected and yanked him from his thoughts. He stared at Medic through the smoky lenses, dazed.

"What has gotten into you?" Medic demanded. He didn't seem angry so much as annoyed; Engineer stood a few feet away and the Texan watched them with interest. Pyro mumbled something, knowing that Medic wouldn't understand him anyway, but he made sure to make it sound apologetic.

"I will have to inspect you after battle today, but until then, keep the daydreaming to a minimum. Am I understood?"

"Yrrfh Mrdrc."

"Good boy. Now come along."

-

Pyro cackled with glee as he air-blasted the BLU Sniper off of the cliff. He leaned over the edge, just a little, to see the man's body dash upon the jagged rocks below. A loud yell rent the air, followed by two ear-shattering blasts. Pyro ducked back to a nearby building just in time to see Scout and Spy trying to take down the BLU Soldier. Spy landed his backstab, but died simultaneously as the Soldier fired one last rocket. Scout hustled over to Pyro, making sure to spit on Spy's corpse on his way.

"Heavy's comin'," Scout said and gestured behind him, "Demo was with us but that Soldier got a lucky crit. Fucker." He spat again into the dry dirt, sweaty and excited. Pyro grabbed Scout's thin arm and pulled the younger man to a small storage area.

"Py, what-" Scout quieted when Pyro unzipped his mask just a little bit, enough to say:

"Scout, of course the Administrator knows what is going on, there are cameras in the base." As quickly as he had opened his mask, Pyro closed it quickly. The quick gasp of fresh air against his face had felt great, but it wasn't worth being stared at.

"Well," he said in response, and then his face paled, "Oh fucking shit. You're right. I never, I never even thought about that. Just got so used to the cameras." Scout turned away, shook his head, "Oh, fucking God, man." The very recognizable sound of a minigun spinning up cut him off though, and Scout glanced out the window. "Heavy's friendly, we better go. Maybe tonight we can talk, yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

As they exited the building, there was a series of roars from the left and all too late came the sound of grenades popping. Scout turned neatly on his heel and bolted, and then the ground shook like an earthquake. The explosion kicked up dust and dirt, threw Pyro into the air. He could see nothing through the smoke, hear only muffled blasts through the gasmask. He felt weightless. All of his limbs had somehow lost feeling and Pyro could taste blood as he passed out.

...

It was cold again. He felt like a wet rag; his sweat had nowhere to evaporate to within the humid suit and lay heavy on his skin. Pyro opened his eyes, immediately flinched as his left leg bellowed at him in pain, but he lay still. He had no idea where he was; it was best to play dead until he had gathered stock of the situation. It felt like he had been put through a cotton gin; his whole body ached and burned to some degree.

Laying there, crumpled on the ground like a broken toy, Pyro listened. Nothing. Everything was absolutely silent and for a moment he thought he had gone deaf. Then he noticed how dark it was, how frigid he felt. Was I down that long? He risked turning over, slowly, found that he was rolling further into the ditch where he had apparently landed. He sighed with relief as he realized that it wasn't night time at all - he was just enveloped in a heavy shade, provided by the bridge a few feet above him.

His leg still blazed and the air in his suit was stuffy and smelled horrible. He had pissed himself somewhere along the way. It happened sometimes, to all of the men. Their human bodies still had it automatic reflexes, no matter how many times they died. Cautiously, Pyro unzipped his mask, pulled it off. Fresh, dry air rushed him and he coughed a few times. Each cough was answered by his leg pulsing numbly - Pyro looked down and grimaced. There was an ugly and messy gash on his thigh. The thick rubber suit had been torn through, was covered in a dry layer of dark blood. He had been laying here for a while then, if the blood was dry.

Pyro listened carefully again; still there was no sound. His mouth was so dry, but maybe he could call out:

"Medic?!"

Nothing. Pyro sighed and unzipped his suit further to take care of his leg. He ripped his t-shirt into long strips, bound them around his leg to stop the bleeding. He zipped his suit back up and wriggled out from underneath the bridge. It hurt, a lot, but he had experienced worse. He would experience worse. The gasmask stared at him from the ground and he debated putting it back on, wrinkled his nose at his own stench and opted against it.

All of his weapons were gone, but he found a discarded shotgun a few feet away. The dark gunmetal glinted dully in the low sun. Low sun? Pyro turned to the west; sure enough, while it was still daylight, the sun was dipping towards the horizon.

The battle was over. It had to be like 1800 or even later. Shit, Medic was going to kill him! He grabbed the shotgun just in case, found that it made a useful makeshift cane.

Face curled with a worried scowl, Pyro hobbled to the closest respawn. It wasn't far, thankfully, and it only took Pyro about fifteen minutes to reach despite his injuries. The teleporter in the back was connected to the main base; there was one in every respawn.

He stumbled back off of the teleporter pad, now in the main teleporter room in the base, lost his balance and crashed to the floor. He probably should have felt pain but now all he could feel was that pervasive cold.

"Goddamn it."

The smooth linoleum felt good against his face and he felt his muscles melt. He lay there for a few minutes. The med bay wasn’t far, hopefully he could just apologize to Medic and be healed. Medic would understand, right? He hadn’t done it on purpose. His throat tightened.

What if he does get mad?

Pyro’s stomach gurgled and he burped grossly. There was only one way to find out.

The first thing coming to my mind when Pyro vomited was that he is pregnant. This was a wonderful chapter, really enjoyed reading it. I find it strange the men's aggression rates have increased, I thought sex is supposed to make people happier. Their reactions are complete opposites.

Ooooohhhh dear... Pyro's gonna be in deep trouble. Feel bad for him already!

i don't know why i feel like i need to establish this, but here goes.

pyro is not pregnant.

Oh hey, this is updating again, awesome. I'll just keep this tab open for checking back every other day or so; the story is definitely getting even more interesting now.

interior crocodile alligator i drive a chevrolet movie theater.

i don't know german but i tried to make sure it was at least plausibly correct.

-

The teleporter room smelled like oil and Engineer’s cologne. Pyro frowned. Several monitors lined one wall, and a steel blast door lead to a small, air conditioned room full of computer servers. Engineer spent a lot of time in here, doing what Pyro didn't know. Probably calibrating or sticking his thumb up his asshole, who knew.

In any case, he had to get out of there in case Engineer showed up. It was doubtful that the Texan would try anything, given Pyro's protected status, but Pyro didn't want to risk anything.

That file Engineer's aggression increased by, what 25%? What does that mean? Why was Engineer’s score so much higher than Soldier?

He carefully maneuvered to his feet and stood up. His knees shook and for a second he feared that he might collapse again. Pyro positioned the shotgun on the floor, muzzle down, and took a few wobbly steps. It helped to have his weight braced against the gun. There we go.

"What are y'doing in here, sheila? Making a racket - oh," Sniper stood in the doorway, stared at Pyro.

"You can't touch me," he blurted, "Medic and Heavy will, uh."

"They'll what?" the thin man taunted. He came nearer, smelling like fetterless Camels and sweat. His body brushed against Pyro's shoulder and Pyro set his weight and pushed, hard. Sniper cursed as he was knocked into a table.

Pyro grimaced and hobbled away as fast as physically possible. The med bay wasn't far. Sniper didn't appear behind him, why? Maybe he really was afraid of Medic and just wanted to harass Pyro. Especially since Scout was protected by Spy now. Right?

He remembered watching Spy violate Scout, remembered how he lay dying in the corner and watched his only friend get fucked by a shape-shifting rat.

The med bay door was in sight, the left one partially ajar, and Pyro hastened his pace. So close! His knee buckled in a sudden spasm of pain and Pyro groaned as he fell to the ground again. The shotgun clattered away noisily, except -

"Sohn von einem Weibchen!" Medic was mad as hell. Heavy's voice responded, sounded apologetic and very clearly speaking German. Pyro hadn't known that Heavy understood German at all, let alone spoke it so fluently. He had no idea what the two men were yelling about and Pyro lay on the floor silently. Was Medic mad because he had disappeared? But Pyro had the locator chip implanted in him now... wouldn't Medic have been
able to find him?

He lay there, as quiet as possible, barely breathing, and listened. Medic was still yelling and then there was a series of slaps. Was... Was Medic hitting him? There was a pained sound that sounded like Heavy, was too deep to be Medic's voice.

Oh my God.

Medic said something, not yelling any longer but still recognizably enraged. The door was thrown suddenly, slammed Pyro straight in the nose and he groaned .

"Pyro?! Where have you been?" Medic seemed more surprised than anything, and he knelt upon seeing the wounded leg. He scooped the smaller man up easily, turned to take him into the med bay. Pyro sighed as he was placed on a table. "I am becoming tired of your games."

Heavy was nowhere to be seen, but a shirt that was much too large to belong to Medic was draped over one of the counters.

"I'm sorry," Pyro's mouth was dry and his guts fluttered anxiously, "I got - I got blasted under a bridge on the map and knocked out, I swear." He tried to regulate his tone, his pacing, but his words came out rushed and afraid, "I came back as soon as I woke up. Sniper saw me in the teleporter room when I came back through. He - he tried to -" he faltered, unsure of how to describe what had happened.

"Did he injure you?"

Strong hands ran over his limbs, felt and palpated Pyro's body as the rubber suit was carefully removed.

"No. He got real close to me and I shoved him. He left
me alone then."

"Heavy," Medic called, "Hierher kommen und mir helfen." The doctor was strong, easily helped Pyro to his feet. Heavy came out of the office and Pyro tried not to stare. Heavy was shirtless, his face and chest flushed pink. He hovered beside Medic like a massive shadow. Medic made a noise of disapproval.

Pyro stared at the ceiling dumbly. Time bent and he felt fuzzy. Everything was cold, then his leg was warm, then he felt hot all over, then he was on his feet and -

"Pyro?" Medic was shaking him vigorously and he stared at the doctor, lost. Heavy was gone, but his shirt remained on the other table.

"Medic?" he asked.

"There is clearly something wrong with you," the German shook his head, stroked Pyro's hair absently, "We will examine you after you shower. You are filthy." Pyro couldn't disagree, he reeked of piss and smoke and sweat. But showering... he hated showering with Medic.

"I was stuck on under the bridge," he whispered again, "Please don't be mad."

"What?" Medic raised an eyebrow, "No, Heavy and I
were... it doesn't matter. Come with me."

"Uh," Pyro paused. The medigun was still humming in its rack. The pigeons rustled in Medic's office.

"Yes?" Medic was close to him, close enough that Pyro had to look up.

"Can I shower in my shower downstairs, please." His cheeks burned and he couldn't meet Medic's eyes.

"Hmm... since you asked so nicely, I think that can be done. I believe that you were knocked unconscious, such a thing happened to Spy earlier this week. Also, I can tell when you lie. Such a good boy. And you did so well this morning. Such good behavior clearly deserves a reward, don’t you think?"

Pyro wondered idly what it Medic would look like with a broken nose. He let himself be led downstairs, to his room, perked up immediately upon sight of his salamander tank.

"You may take care of them after you bathe and I examine you," Medic instructed, guided Pyro to the shower. The little private bathroom was reasonably sized, something that had always been a benefit until now. There was enough room that Medic could watch him shower and Pyro paused. "Remove your clothing."

He couldn't make his limbs move and Pyro stared at the
blacked out mirror set into the wall. What did they look like, the piss-and-blood-soaked pyromaniac and the rapist sociopath?

"I will not warn you a third time." Now he moved, unzipped his suit, stepped out of his boots, shrugged off the suspenders that helped hold up the heavy rubber trousers, pulled down the cotton shorts and his standard briefs. The air seared against his cheeks and Medic gestured to the faucet.

"Go ahead and bathe."

Pyro turned away. Maybe he could pretend that Medic wasn't there. It felt good to shower in his own bathroom again though, away from so many prying eyes. Just two eyes this time. He soaped himself up, managed to actually kind of forget about Medic. The air was steamy and hot and the caked-on filth began to melt. The dark rivulets striped him like a zebra, stark against the tan skin and wrinkled pink tissue.

When he turned off the faucet and turned around, Medic was gone. A towel sat on the sink and Pyro reached for it, dried himself off thoroughly before he wrapped it around his waist.

"Medic?"

He found Medic feeding the salamanders, observing their movements with some kind of intense disinterest.

"They aren't meant to live together. They are solitary creatures," he informed. His mind was clearly somewhere else. Pyro began to dress himself. It felt good to be clean again, to have clean dry cotton against his skin.

"I know but they get along well enough,” he offered.
“Are you dressed? Let us go examine you. My report to the Administrator is due tomorrow and it is far from complete." Pyro followed the other man dutifully, out of the room and up the stairs. He took one last wistful glance at his beloved amphibians.

Demo's exuberant voice echoed from his lab, and it sounded like Engineer's twang responded. Upon entering the still deserted med bay, Medic turned to Pyro.

"Get up on the table."

He was thorough, inspected Pyro's eyes with a small light, looked into Pyro's nostrils and down his throat and into his ears. The large hand was huge and cool against his chest as Medic listened to his breathing, his pulse. Medic shook his head, marked Pyro’s status on a clipboard.

"You are, physically, fine. I will have to check your respawn scans. I do not have time for that this evening. You may go spend the evening as you please, but do not forget your curfew at 2100 hours. Do you understand?" Pyro nodded automatically. "Give me a kiss." He rose on his tiptoes, screwed his eyes shut and kissed Medic.

"Yes," Medic murmured against his lips, wrapped Pyro in a firm embrace. Pyro twisted awkwardly, forced himself to relax. After entirely too long, he was finally released. "You may go."

Pyro didn't need to be told twice.

-

He spent a blissfully uneventful night in his room. He cleaned the salamander tank, dusted his bookshelf, tidied up his room. The bullet holes still laced the ceiling but the debris had long since been cleared away. He reread Cry, The Beloved Country by Alan Paton, mused on the tragedy of a father having to bury his son.

Fifteen minutes before 2100, he shelved the book and made his way back upstairs. The hallway was quiet and Pyro hurried to Medic’s room before he ran into, well, anyone. Just as he went to knock on the door, he heard something: a thump from inside the room.

He knocked and waited. No response.

Then, Medic, muffled through the door.

“Come in, Pyro.”

Slowly, Pyro turned the knob and pushed the door open and stared. He almost slammed the door behind him in his haste, uttered a soft curse at the sight.

Heavy was bent over the bed, face crimson and shining with sweat. He was fully clothed but his pants were around his thighs and Medic was fucking him. Medic moaned shamelessly and Heavy choked on his on tongue and Pyro couldn’t tell if Heavy was willing or not.

One thing he could tell; he didn’t want to watch this.

“Come here,” Medic beckoned to him, breathless.

“Medic, I-“

“I said come here!”

Pyro obeyed, looked at the wall instead of at the monsters before him. Medic grabbed his chin, kissed him roughly. The German’s pace quickened slightly and Medic sighed when he came. Pyro stood, as still as a cliff face, and watched.

His body vibrated and if Pyro didn’t know any better he would have sworn that he was intoxicated. Medic pulled away, nodded briefly as he tucked himself back into his trousers.

“I must finish my report,” he bit, and just like that he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. Heavy stood, pulled his pants up and sat on the bed.

“What. The fuck. Is going on.” Pyro’s words were measured, a frail balance between meek and infuriated. Heavy didn’t answer, instead reached out to snag Pyro in his grasp.

“What – let go!”

“I do not want Medic to hear me, the walls are thin,” Heavy whispered urgently, his lips flush against Pyro’s ear. His warm breath sent involuntary tickles down Pyro’s spine and he shivered, grudgingly allowed Heavy to spoon him onto the bed, “He will not be suspicious if he comes in and sees us like this.”

“Whatever,” Pyro snarked, but kept his voice down. Maybe Heavy wasn’t lying? He shifted against the barrel-like chest, embarrassed.

“It is of utmost importance that I obey Medic. I cannot tell you why.”

“Yeah, so important that you need to rape me. Fuck you.” Heavy paused, and Pyro wondered for a minute if he had crossed the line. If Heavy really had an ulterior motive, why would he allow Pyro to insult him? Maybe Heavy was telling the truth.

“You have every right to be angry,” the Russian agreed solemnly, and it rendered Pyro unable to respond. “You and Scout, you could escape if you stole Engineer’s truck, or Sniper’s-”

“Why is everyone going crazy,” Pyro interrupted, though Heavy’s idea was a very good one. “I read files. In Medic’s office. They said that Soldier and Engineer have increasing levels of aggression.”

“Did Medic catch you?” Heavy seemed much more concerned
about this, didn’t even seem fazed by what Pyro had said.

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Why is everyone going crazy?”

“I do not know,” he admitted, “But that explains many things.”

The door creaked open and Heavy instinctively tightened his grip on Pyro. The younger man squirmed.

“Well don’t you two look cute,” the German was pleased, “Keep her company, Heavy.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

The light was turned out. Pyro blinked in the dark. The room brightened a little when Medic opened the door.

“Feel free to fuck her. Good night, Pyro.”

“Good night Medic…”

The door to the medical bay was left open and a few rays of light trickled in.

“Try to sleep,” Heavy whispered, “We will talk more tomorrow.” Pyro groused some kind of response and pulled away from Heavy’s
grasp. He rolled over, cuddled against a pillow.

Fuck, I am tired.

Hey Eggwhites,I know I'm a bit late, but can you put this in a new thread? The stories are vastly different now, and also new readers will be immediately turned off by the previous...fiasco.
This is much better,BTW. It seems there is actually plot now! I'm interested more on the background of what's happening....

I don't think you should start a new thread for this. People who haven't read how everything started wouldn't understand a thing. It's lovely how you're so active updating this. This is one of my favorites and I couldn't be more pleased you decided to continue this. I don't understand the complaints about the "fiasco", it was beautifully written and described Pyro's life and feelings incredibly well. Sure, the other team members were in shade, but I assume that was because everything was described from Pyro's point of view. He doesn't care what the others think and feel as they're his enemies. That's how I took it and it didn't bother me at all.

Good sir, as a common fan of your writings, I order you to update this! ;D

That's odd... I thought there was supposed to be an update over here..? Either the #196 is actually using the nick "Anonymous" and didn't sage or something weird happened. In any case, I am very disappointed.

While I cringed quite a bit at the beginning of this story (what with poor Scout and Pyro, and the others being so uncharacteristically cruel), recent events have improved this fanfic greatly, in my opinion. There's new problems forming, Scout trying to find a solution (albeit in vain), and now Heavy appears to be trying to help. Good job, Eggwhites, although I noticed Medic referred to Pyro as "her" before he left. Pyro hadn't done anything wrong as far as I can see, so why didn't Medic reward him and call Pyro "him"?