Okay, me and my bro Hamsters have started to co-write a Heavy/Medic post war story based on something that she had drawn that I had made a back story to. She says she'll post the art eventually.... Contains OCs. ~~~ I stir the thick lamb goulash with a wooden spoon. The movement of the spoon’s stirring is erratic, timed with Wagner’s Lonhengrin, prelude to act III, which is playing on the old record player on the kitchen table. The player is one of the few items we kept from the base where we met; when we left we decided it held more value to us than it did to RED Corp. I hum along as I stir, my one hand acting as conductor. After a few minutes I switch to the pot on the burner behind it. The gravy is coming along nicely. I really shouldn’t make so much of it, being that Heavy’s health is becoming more of a concern, but it’s difficult to deny such a simple pleasure to a man who asks for so little. There are pictures hanging on the wall of the both of us, and some of the team. A large one hangs above the table. Most of them are smiling. My hair is terrible in it but Heavy won’t let me take it down. I go back to the stew and bring some to my lips. It needs more salt. I close my eyes as the music rises, one hand swaying slightly as I reach for the salt shaker on the counter beside me. I grin- The phone is ringing. “Ivan? Can you get that?†I call from the kitchen. I add the salt and taste the soup again. Something is missing still. The only sound that answers me is the ringing of the phone, bringing me fully from my reverie. “Ivan? Heavy? Ach verdammt …†I forgot that he had left on errands. I quickly look around to wipe the spoon on something. The phone continues to ring, so I throw it in the sink and hurry towards the living room. I pass by the hand carved figures on the table that Heavy still has yet to put away, along with his knife and wood shavings. I will not be cleaning that. If I have to remind him one more time that I am not a house keeper… That ringing is becoming bothersome. “I’m coming, I’m coming.†The living room is simple, covered in small knickknacks and more photos us, in Germany, Russia and even America. It is a warm room with a large fireplace off to the one wall and a bookshelf next to it. There are only two chairs, the largest being heavy’s, it is need of repair, and mine. A radio sits on the stand by his chair, the phone is on mine. I answer it. “Hello?†“Hello? Am I speaking to Dr. Friedrich Pelzer?†The familiar German flows into my ears. “… Who is this and how did you get this number?†No one should know this name. I haven’t been called that in years. The last time had been an accusation. “Mr. Pelzer, my name is Officer Hans Naumenn. I am calling from Stuttgart. You are a very hard man to get a hold of. We have been trying for the last few weeks. †“Yes? What is it you want?†My grip tightens on the phone. I can’t imagine a reason why anyone would search out the old me, except to demand punishment for past transgressions. “I regret to inform you that your daughter, Greta Wechsler died in a car crash, along with her husband Rolf, August 21st, three weeks ago. As her closest living relative we’ve been trying to contact you for…†My hand around the phone grew numb. “Greta...†I had been working hard on my latest project. I don’t even remember what it was now. It was before I had joined up with Red. I was getting home late. I remember being frustrated; we were not making much progress with it. I was looking forward to eating what Ingrid would have made that night. But I remember hoping that she wouldn’t complain about my late nights again. I was so tired; I hadn’t even noticed the car parked by the sidewalk. I open the door and that’s when I noticed the suitcases. There is no smell of cooking food. Greta is not rushing to hug my legs. “Ingrid? Why are your things packed? And where is Greta?†“She’s at my mother’s, Friedrich. I have just come back to collect the rest of my things, there was not enough room in my father’s car. “What?†“I’m leaving, Friedrich.†She stands to face me. “I have left you most of the furniture, but Greta’s things and the bedside tables are coming with me. I have also taken my favorite books and the mahogany chess set we were given for our wedding. I know you use it more than I do, but it was a gift from my grandmother. I think it’s only fair.†She walks forwards, going towards her suitcases. There are two. “I have left your office alone. The papers for the divorce are on the bed. I would appreciate it if you would sign them. Greta and I will not be needing anything from you. Please do not try to contact Greta. It will only confuse her.†Her eyes have never been so cold to me, not even when we were fighting. “Ingrid..?†I grab her arm and try to twist her to me. “Let go of me Friedrich.†She will not look me in the eyes. They are instead trained on her bags. “You can’t do this!†I try to turn her towards me, so that I can see her face. “You have not been a husband to me nor a father to Greta for a long time. It will be for the better. Let go of me.†“No… no. You will stay here! You will listen to me, Ingrid. I am still the man of this house, and I say you are going nowhere!†“You and I both know you will never be a real man Fredrick.†I let go of her arm, “I have tried, God, I have tried to make this work. To make you want this, a family. But it will never happen. Is it really fair to force us to stay here in this dead house, in this pathetic illusion of a family? Do you really want Greta to be raised in a lie?†She looks me in the eyes. She is so sad, but she is also determined. Her strength was always something I had admired, a quality I wish I had. I only watch her leave, packing her baggage into the car. She doesn’t even say goodbye to me and drives away, to her mother’s. I was never able to get into contact with Greta. Not even years later, after my ex-wife had died. Greta had been at her funeral. She was in a beautiful black dress, holding onto the arm of the handsome young man beside her. I didn’t recognize him, but then why would I? He seemed to be the man in her life. I hoped he could be a real man for her, not a disappointment like I was to her mother. I sat solemnly throughout the ceremony. I cannot say that I was truly sad. I was more… hollow or empty. I saw her look at me briefly. I think she recognized me as her face twisted and then looked away. She never returned my gaze; even as I saw the man she was holding onto nod to me and mouth a question, 'Do you know that man?' She shook her head no. I left shortly after that… “-in state custody. You are listed as the default guardian, as such you have legal custody of your-†“My what?†I croak; I have one hand on the small table. I had not been paying attention. “Your Grandchildren, Dr. Pelzer. “ “I don’t have any grandchildren.†I mutter. My shaking hand comes up to wipe my face, pushing my glasses askew. “You are the father of one Greta Wechsler, born February 8th 1949?†“Yes I am but...I never heard...grandchildren?†I don’t believe this. “Yes, Mr. Pelzer, your grandchildren; Felix and Ada Wechsler. As closest living relative you have a default status of guardianship. If you wish to relinquish custody of Aida and Felix, they will become wards of the state and placed in an orphanage-†"Wait. Wait." I scramble around for some paper. I grab the newspaper from my chair and the pencil next to it. Heavy left it there. He always leaves his crosswords everywhere, I glance at it. He spelt Diotisavalvi wrong. I can hardly hold the pen steady my hands are shaking so badly. â€I…I will come to collect them tomorrow.†I manage to get out as I find space on the paper. “I will catch the earliest flight possible.†“There will be paper work for you to fill out when you ariv-“ “Yes, fine. I will deal with that when I arrive. Where ... where are they?†“They’re being held at Stuttgart Orphanage, do you need directions? “ “No, I know the place.†I put down the paper, I should know it well enough after spending most of my youth there. “I will be there the earliest I can. Thank you. Goodbye.†It sounds rushed even to my ears. The officer replies in same, hanging up. I can only lean against the wall and slip down until I rest on the floor staring at the picture of Heavy and I sitting on his side table. It’s his favorite; it’s of us standing in front of Arena di Verona. It was the first thing he wanted to see when we first visited here three and a half years ago. He is posing like a wrestler, wearing a bad shirt with the second camera hanging from his neck. The arm he is not posing with is curled around me, pulling me to him; he is looking at me and laughing as I try weakly to get away. There is so much love there in his eyes. It pains me to know I will have to test it. God. How do I begin to explain the failure that I am?
I actually like this. But something about the title suggests, to me, future complications. Unless it's just named that for the hell of it. It's hard to tell with fanfiction writers. Sometimes a title is just incidental. I look forward to reading more.
You have my full attention.
Wow, this is amazing so far, you guys! I love the little details everywhere- they suggest but don't actually say outright anything, which is exactly how I like 'em. I cannot wait for the next chapter, God, I am hooked.
Continue, bitteschoen.
Thanks guys, and don't worry about what we're playing at with the title, we think you'll be pleasantly surprised. This isn't going to be an OC centric fic either. ~~~ This tiny car is too small, I am thinking. I can barely move my feet and the steering wheel digs into my stomach. Bags of groceries are piled beside me and the backseat is filled with gym equipment from work I am taking home to repair. It is very uncomfortable, but there is nothing I can do at the moment, so I make the best of it. As I always do. I did not need to take this job for money, Doktor and I have enough. What we saved from RED will last us the rest of our lives if we are careful, and besides that there is Doktor’s practice. It is a small business, just down the street from our own home, only Medic and one other doctor work there full time and he works many late hours. I tell him to get an assistant, but he is a proud man and will not admit to his own weakness, even if it means he takes on the burdens of five men. I understand this, I know why I take a job I do not need; if I am not working, I am useless. I cannot fire my guns anymore; I clean them daily, so that they will not collect dust, but have little use for them. I still build guns (not as much as I used to) in the basement, but as I cannot test them, I do not know if they work as they should. I have little time for such hobbies anyway, my job keeps me busy. This is how I like it. When I moved here with Doktor, there were few jobs for a man who could not speak Italian. I took what I could, which at the time was custodial work at a grade school, but once my Italian improved I applied for a coaching job, and now I teach wrestling at a local Centri Sociali; community center. Teaching is not the most glamorous job, I think, but it is rewarding in its own way. I drive the little car into our driveway, happy to be home at last. Our house is a good size, maybe not quite as big as I would like, but where ever Medic is, I am happy to be there as well. I squeeze out of the car and it creaks as I move. Other doctor tells me I should watch my weight, Medic says I am fine as I am, but he is perhaps biased. Carrying half a dozen bags of groceries I climb our house steps and open the door. First, I hear music, Wagner I believe, it is skipping. This is not a good sign. I place the bags down by the doorway and close the door behind me before hurrying to the kitchen, the closer I get the louder the music becomes, and when I get close enough I smell something burning. There are two pots on the stove, the back one has smoke rising from inside it. I turn the stove off, moving both pots to cooler burners. I am nervous now, I have not seen Doktor yet and the music is still skipping. He would never be so careless unless something was wrong. I go to the table and turn off the gramophone. Now that the music is silenced I can hear a dial tone, which means the phone is off its hook. I follow the sound to the living room and it is there I find Medic. For one terrible moment… I think he is dead. He is collapsed on the floor against the wall, his eyes wide and empty. “Doktor!†I drop to my knees beside him, prying the phone from his fingers, and hanging it up. He is as cold as ice. “…Friedrich?†He does not respond to me, so I grab both his shoulders, and shake him gently. Slowly, he blinks and seems to focus, coming back into himself. “Friedrich, what is wrong? The stove was on, and your record-†I do not finish; Medic has leaned forward and wrapped his arms around my neck. He buries his face in my shoulder, and hangs onto me as if needing a tether to this world. I do not know what to do; and in the end I can do nothing but hold him close and stroke his back. He does not usually let me hold him this long, but tonight he seems almost reluctant to let go. Eventually he moves away and stands up, brushing dust from his trousers. I stand as well, more confused than ever. I look down at him but his face is closed to me, I can tell nothing from his stone expression. “I apologize for burning dinner.†He says finally. “I…was distracted.†He steps away from me, and begins moving about as if needing to be busy with something; he straightens things that are already in place, and brushes more invisible dust from his clothes. I have seen him act this way before, it means he is avoiding something. “Ivan, you are aware of Ingrid, yes?†His voice is strange and formal. “Your late wife?†“Ja.†He turns away from me, and moves to stand by the window. “Are you also aware that we had a daughter together?†“…you did?†I am not sure what to say, I have no idea how to reply to this. Medic talks little about his life before RED, and even less about his family. I know it not an easy subject for him so I have not pressed him, but this... I just do not know. I go sit down in my chair; I do not think I want stand any longer. “Medic, you have daughter?†I gasp out, finally. “Not anymore. She is dead.†“What?†“I need to be in Germany tomorrow.†My head is resting in both my hands, but I peer up at him over my fingers. “For…for funeral?†“No, as far as I know she is already buried.†He pauses, putting a hand against the window for support. “…I have to pick up my grandchildren.†He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flicker briefly. “I have grandchildren, Ivan, and I didn’t even know. If I had…†He moves to the bookshelf and begins to reorder the books. “I can’t leave them to be placed in an orphanage, it’s a foul way to be raised…I can’t -†He cuts himself off and turns to face me, though he still will not look me in the eyes. “I understand that this is probably a shock, obviously I will understand if you do not wish to…†I stand up from my chair, a little shaky on my legs, and take a deep breath, counting to three inside my head while medic continues to babble. “…It certainly was never my plan to bring children into this relationship, but I have certain responsibilities and-†“I will get our suitcases.†Medic’s eyes snap to mine, and for a moment he looks shocked, then his mask returns. “No, Ivan. This is my responsibility. I will go alone.†“Nyet, is not for discussion. I am coming with you.†“Ivan, please-†“Doctor, I have been with you through many things, many times too difficult to even mention. You should know by now, I am not easy man to lose.†I stand up straight to my full height and look him in the eye, letting him know that my word is final. “I will go pack our things and find replacement for coaching tomorrow; and you will cancel your appointments and call for taxi. We will leave in half an hour.†Medic does not seem to have a response; he gapes as though struck, then closes his mouth and nods as I turn to leave. “Heavy.†He calls me back. I pause in the doorway, staring at him. He adjusts his glasses, having difficulty with his words. “…Thank you. For not…judging me.†I am silent for a moment. What can I say? “…Is not my place to judge, Doktor, but… perhaps is not your place to judge yourself. To bring life into this world... is not the worst thing.†I shrug and leave the room to go pack. After a few long moments, I hear Medic pick up the phone and begin to dial.
Oh god I love this, PLEASE don't keep us waiting longer. I don't think my heart could bear to wait!
Another great chapter! Even though I don't usually read fanfics that much, I decided to give this one a shot- I am glad I did!
I read this whole new chapter with Heavy's voice in my head.
BAMP.
I require a healthy dose of MOAR
I'm definitely enjoying this, please continue.
Had a moment where I pulled a 'promptly bursts into tears'. Just- Freidrich fighting to come to terms with what he's learned, what he has to do, and being so scared that Ivan will be mad at him for hiding so much, and then Ivan being all 'I will pack our bags'. Cause Doktor never goes alone.
I am loving this very much, can't wait for more 8O
I really liked how you portrayed Heavy, and how their life together turned out in this story. I appreciated how you kept your grammar and fluidity even while writing Heavy, as people often...butcher their writing to characterize Heavy. This works in some stories, but the fluid writing style works best in most occasions. Waiting for more, friend.
Jeese annons, you bumped it around the time i was finishing the chapter. Stay out of my head. Sorry it took so long, hit a bit of a block for a bit when i was writing. Hope you enjoy. --------------------------- The building has changed, but it’s still the same. The straight fence lining the property, the looming walls. I can hear the children playing in a back yard from where I am. Its feeling like I’m nine years old again, trying to hide, as I sit here in the car. A knock startles me, Heavy stands by the side, when did he get out? He opens the door, but refrains from giving me a hand as I stand, straightening my tie and flattening my suit, removing anything that had accumulated there. I give him a nod and set my jaw, heading towards the front doors, Heavy falling to my left. The inside hasn’t changed much too. Sterile, cold, there are children walking around, escorted by adults, but it is still very cold. As I approached the front desk, I cannot help but be nervous. Is my tie straight? is my hair messy? What will my grandchildren think of me? “Hello, I am Dr. Freidrick Pelzer, I am here to pick up My grandchildren, Ada and Felix Weshler.†“Ah, Mr. Pelzer, we were expecting you. please go down the left hallway to the 3rd door on the right. Mr. Gregory will be waiting for you there.†I nod and move to the left, down the hallway, Heavy is a comforting warmth to my side. “ Your friend will have to stay in the waiting room unless he is family.†The woman called after us. I turn my head to Heavy, who smiles as he squeezes my shoulder briefly before moving to the side, towards the set of chairs waiting in an in-clove. Never has a walk seemed so long as the walk to the office, I rap my knuckles on the door frame, opening the door when I'm bid to enter. Gregory is , sharp. Pointed chin, nose and an angular face with slicked black hair dressed in a crisp brown suit. Spy would be envious. There is a middle age police officer standing to the side, talking idly to Gregory. “Ah! Mr. Pelzer I presume?†The man in the suit stands as I enter, making for a handshake, smiling warmly. “Yes.†“I hope your flight was alright Mr. Pelzer. I am officer Numan. We had spoken over the phone yesterday.†“Yes, I remember. the flight, the flight was pleasant.†I say, returning the hand shake and taking a seat in the chair across from Gregory. “We will need to see your passport, Mr, Pelzer to verify it is in fact you.†the officer said, smiling at me from the left of the desk. I nod, bringing out my papers, showing them to both the officer than then the social worker. After came several lines of questioning, thankfully, it was over fast. “Now, Mr. Pelzer, there are a few things you need to sign before you can take your grandchildren. These are just to finalize the adoption and such. If you could just sign here..†He starts, handing me a pen. There was more than just a bit, there was at least dozens of pages I had to read though, then sign where I was indicated to. Gregory continued to talk most of the time, by the end I learned he had a wife and had adopted some children of his own. Two, apparently, both boys. He would not stop saying how I would be a good parent to my grandchildren and how well behaved both of them were. I am more than glad when i was done. “That looks like the last of those Mr. Pelzer, I will go send for the children now.†He said, standing going over to the door and leaving myself there with Officer Newman. My back aches from the straight posture I'm sitting in. these chairs are uncomfortable, and my hands are shaking. I grip them tightly on my lap, what is taking them so long. Why won’t he stop talking? The door opens, startling me into standing, thankfully shutting up the Offficer, back straight and arms crossed behind my back, old habits don’t die, as my- my grandchildren are led in. I know my mouth is opened slightly, and i am gripping my hand behind my back too hard, but my grandchildren are beautiful. Felix, he is so small and thin, my grandson.They put him in this black suit, with his black hair brushed to the side. It’s probably the same thing he wore to his mother’s funeral. He pushes up his glasses as he enters behind Gregory. Behind him, holding onto his left arm, is a small girl in a blue dress. My breath catches. Her brown hair tied back with a ribbon. She has Greta’s Blue eyes. “Here they are. Felix, Ada, this is your Grandfather, Friedrich Pelzer. You will be going home with him.†Gregory said, placing the two suitcases he carried down. Ada moves behind her brother more as he puffs his chest out, moving in front. “You are Mother’s father?†He asks, staring intently at me. “Yes. I am.†I straighten up, looking at them. He shouldn’t have such a sad face, it does not suit him. He does not say more, just stares at me as he pushes Ada behind him more, judging me. what do I say to children? “First meeting are always hard, are they not?†Gregory says with a nervous laugh. I shouldn’t be as thankful as i am when he breaks the awkward silence that had descended in the room. He hands off the suitcases to me. Both seem rather small. “Where are the rest of their things? Toys and such?†I ask, gripping the suitcases close to me. “They can be sent to your home later.†I nod at him. “Good bye.†before I turn to the children. “Come along, we have to go. There is a flight ahead of us.†I say, motioning them out before me. I follow them into the hall, and they follow me down it, back towards the main room where Heavy is waiting.
I am really loving this. I can't wait for the kids reactions to meeting Heavy. The size difference alone would be hysterical
omgod yes yes yes I keep checking when I see its updated, noticing its all these bumps (which I don't mind) and then it's updated again! Thank you! I loved this fic and sad when I thought it was long forgotten about. I can't wait for the kids to see and meet Heavy and chest for the rest!
Next part...yup. ~~~ As I watch Doktor walk down the hallway my smile disappears. I wish I could go with him, it sometimes seems to me that there was never a time when I was not by his side. But as much as I might feel otherwise, I am not his family, and it is probably better he meets his grandchildren for the first time, alone. So I wait. I try to sit down, but the chairs in the waiting room are too small so instead I pace the room and look at the children’s drawings that hang on the walls. I am aware that the receptionist is watching me strangely. I cough. “Nice day, yes?†I say to her in rusty German. Doktor and I speak mostly English and Italian at home, but we have taught each-other as much as we can of our mother tongues, as well. “Do you have...bathroom?†I ask, she points down the same hallway Doktor went. “Second door on the left.†She says. I nod my thanks and head down the hallway. The bathroom is small and obviously meant for one person. I close the door behind me, then I stand at the sink and wash my hands and my face. I look at myself in the mirror and take a deep breath. I am perhaps no longer in my best years, but I am not so old, I think, examining my features. The men from my village live long lives, maybe not so long as the women, but I am still strong. Strong enough to train men half my age to fight. Sometimes I might feel older, like when other doctor tells me I must take medication for my heart. But for the most part I still feel strong and healthy. Doktor...he is also strong, but perhaps does not feel as though he is. When I met Doktor during our time at RED he would often call himself an old man, and that was years ago. Now he is almost sixty. He does not look a day older than when we met, and is not much weaker, but I worry how this new change will effect him. He has always taken on too much, tried to do everything alone, but for this he will need help. I must show him that I am here for that, and be strong enough for both of us. I am so lost in thought when I exit the bathroom that I almost knock a woman to the ground. She catches herself against the wall as she falls but her hat falls off her head and she drops her purse. I Immediately bend down to pick them up for her. She is already standing and brushing her dress by the time I stand back up. “Very sorry, miss. You would think, a man of my size would, uh, learn to be more... careful.†I smile apologetically, and hold out her things. “Yes, you would.†She replies, sharply. But when she sees I have retrieved her things her expression softens just a little. “...It’s fine. Thank you.†She says, taking back her purse and replacing her hat on her head. She looks me over; something I am very used to. “Excuse me, but are you foreign?†She asks. “Am I so obvious?†I laugh. “I am Russian, but here from Italy. I am here with friend to...uh, get his grandchildren. Little boy and girl, recently... their mother and father died. It is very sad. Are you alright, miss?†I ask. She looks suddenly upset. “No, I am not alright.†She says, turning suddenly on her heel and walking away from me, I follow her to the waiting room. “I am sorry, was...something I said?†I ask. She turns at the door. “Your friend should be ashamed of himself.†She says, angry and hurt. Without another word she turns and exits onto the street. I think for a second maybe I should follow her, since obviously my poor German confused her somehow. Before I can, however, I hear my name called behind me. “Ivan.†I turn around and see Doktor, looking tense. “Doktor...†I step forward towards him, it is then I see the tiny figures standing in his shadow. Doktor coughs, then moves aside, gesturing between me and the children. “Felix, Ada, this is Ivan. He is my...a good friend of mine. He lives with me so...you’ll be staying with him as well.†“Hello, little ones!†I say bending down, my hands on my kneees. They are much smaller than the children of my village, or even the Italian children I teach. Small and thin, which makes me sad to see. I am surprised to see how much the boy looks like Doktor. The little girl hides behind her brother and peers at me over his shoulder, frightened. “You have had a long month, I am sure. Still, must travel today. Flying to Italy.†I flap my my arms like wings, they do not smile. “...but, perhaps later we can get ice-cream? To... celebrate your arrival, yes?†“Ivan...†Doktor says warningly in English. “I hardly think they are in the mood for sweets.†“We don’t eat ice-cream.†Felix tells me. “Oh? Well...†“Are you a giant?†A tiny voice asks from behind Felix’s shoulder. Ada peers at me with gigantic, blue eyes. I laugh and both the children jump. “Not a giant, no.†I say, then bend down further. I motion them forward to whisper something and they move closer, warily. “I am...†I say, in a quiet, secretive voice. “...a very powerful wizard.†Ada’s eyes widen even further as Felix’s tiny face purses in disbelief. “No, you’re not.†he says. “Do you not trust me?†I say, pretending to be offended. Beside me Doktor watches with mixed impatience and interest. “Are you really a wizard?†Ada asks, her voice slightly louder than before. “No, he’s not. There’s no such thing as magic.†says Felix. I laugh and hold up both hands. “I will prove it! You see nothing in my hands?†They look at my open palms and nod. “Now, if I am not wizard, could I do this?†I clap both my hands together loudly and both children jump again. Even Doktor twitches. I turn my clasped hands on their side and when I open them, there are two small coins. “Go on! Take one! But only....†I whisper again “...if you promise not to tell what great wizard I am. If everyone knew, they would want coins too!†I chuckle. Both of the children grab a coin. Ada looks at hers in amazement, smiling for the first time since I’ve seen her. Felix is more sceptical. “How did you do that?†He asks. “Cannot tell, is magic.†I tap the side of my nose. “Yes, well... we must be going now. Come along.†Doktor says beside me. We turn and walk outside together, the children following, but still keeping some distance behind, whispering together over their new riches. “How did you do that?†Doktor asks me, quietly, in English again. I shrug. “Is only slight of hand. You tuck the coins in your sleeve-†“Not the parlour trick.†He says, shaking his head. “How did you know what to say to them? Where did you get so good at dealing with children?†“Well...was on base with Scout for four years.†I joke. He does not smile. His eyes have the glassy look of one deep in thought. I can tell that, behind his eyes, there is a storm gathering. When we reach the waiting rental car, Doktor puts the children's suitcases in the trunk while I hold open the door for them. “Are you sure you’re not a giant?†Ada asks and she crawls into the backseat after her brother. “Well...maybe half-giant. My sisters, now they are the giants, the smallest one is over a head taller than I am!†I say, grinning at Ada’s astonished face before closing the car door after her. The trunk slams shut and I turn to look at Medic. He is leaning over the car, still far away inside his own mind. I walk over to him and put a hand on his back. “...Do not worry. This is new for you, but things will get easier, I promise.†He says nothing, so I continue. “They are only children, not monsters.†“Monsters, mercenaries, madmen... these, I know how to deal with. Children, however...†He says softly. His hands clench on the car. “They hate me.†“They only just met you! How can you know this?†I reason. “Greta hated me.†I realise that I might be close to the edge of something very old, deep and painful for my friend. Something we cannot deal with right now, here in the open, in a parking lot of an Orphanage. I move my hand to his shoulder. “Let’s go home, Doktor.†After a moment, he rests his hand over mine, and nods. “Yes, you’re right. Of course†He straightens up and looks at me, It takes all my strength not to kiss him. Together we get back in the car. I pull away from the orphanage, the children watch through the back window as it travels further into the distance. I’m not sure what to feel when Doktor leans back in his seat, eyes closed, and is silent for the rest of the drive.
GNEEEEEE! I am seriously enjoying this.
Wonder who that woman was and what her problem was. Did Hamsters ever post the art? I'm glad you guys started working on this again!
This is such a charming story. The children are adorable.
Hamsters' didn't finish it yet. I'm bothering her about it. Here is the next part, enjoy! I have never been as happy to see my home as I am when the taxi pulls into the driveway. Heavy looks tired, Ada is asleep, nestled in the corner. Felix appears to be fighting to stay awake. “You get the bags, I will get the children.†Heavy says quietly as he gets out, heading to Felix’s door. I pay the driver and he opens the trunk for me. Both of the children’s suitcases are light, allowing me to hold theirs and the suitcase Heavy and I had shared. By the time I have made it to the front door, Heavy has collected the children. Ada is sleeping in one of his great arms, sucking her thumb and resting her head on his chest. Felix, more awake now, following behind Heavy towards the door. I set our suitcase to the side as I open the door and hurry through, using my foot to keep it propped open as Heavy ducks under the doorway. I watch Felix as he looks around the foyer, before moving towards the small doorway leading into the living room. We never talked about where they would sleep, but I decide to make that decision now. “The children should sleep in our bed, for now.†I say to Heavy, motioning slightly to the stairs at the end of the hall. “We can stay downstairs in your work room.†I know Heavy keeps a bed in the basement, he doesn’t wish to wake me when he works late. He nods his head as he moves past me, stopping by the living room to call softly to Felix. “Come, is time for bed.†Before moving on when my grandson follows him. God, he looks tired. Felix gives me one last look before disappearing up the stairs. I leave our suitcase by the living room, it will only be joining us downstairs. After I put the shoes away correctly, I follow up the stairs with the children's things. I absently straighten the pictures on the walls as I go, Heavy must have brushed past them. The only light on is the light to our room, which is down the hall, past the study and bathroom. I think absently about moving my things from the study down to the basement, so the children will have a proper bedroom. It is too late for that right now, though... I stop by the bedroom door and look in, Ada is fast asleep on the far side of the bed, looking peaceful. Felix is more awake, Heavy is murmuring to him in his terrible German, but he does not appear to be even listening. Too busy scrutinising the room. Granted, it cannot be that interesting of a room to a child. Most of the things out in the open are books and papers and some small photos. There are specimens on the top shelf, but he isn’t looking at them. I wonder what he is looking for. “There is bathroom down the hall, will leave light on, If you need. Your grandfather and I will be sleeping in the basement. If you need anything, knock on the door next to the fridge, is the basement door.†He finishes, tucking in the thick blanket around Felix. Felix turns his attention to him, not noticing me yet. “Mother always said that we could not see our grandfather because he was a very sick man. Is he sick?†I feel my knuckles pop as I clench the handles of the suitcases. What did my daughter tell them of me? Heavy, for his part, recovers quickly. “He is not sick, not sick at all...but, can answer questions tomorrow.†He says, shushing Felix when he seems like he is about to say something else, “Is late now, time to sleep.†I can tell Heavy is smiling through his voice. I place the suitcases down by the door in the hall and make a hasty retreat. I head downstairs towards the basement, stopping only to grab our suitcase. I hit the light by the top of the stairs leading to the basement, illuminating the room. It is decent sized, large as the main floor with only two rooms, the main room and a smaller one holding the boiler and washer and dryer. The main room is dominated by a few tables full of tools and half finished projects. Sasha is mounted on the wall, her sister Natasha rests in a crate below. There are also half-finished works sitting on the ground around the tables. The bed that Heavy has down here is big enough for the both of us, though it has no frame, and the mattress rests directly on the ground. I busy myself making up the bed. Dusting off any dirt or small things that have made their way onto it due to Heavy’s carelessness. It is not long before I hear Heavy’s footsteps making their way down the stairs. We had the room sound proofed, so not to disturb the neighbors sleep. He carries an extra blanket in one hand, and a small cup of tea in the other. He places the blanket on the edge of the bed, while handing me the tea, sombrely. “You overheard the boy, then? I saw the children’s things, I put them in our room.†I take a long sip of the tea, “They think I am sick.†Earl Gray is usually my favourite, but it tastes bitter today. “We will need to think of something to tell them...†“Tell them the truth.†Heavy says simply, taking off his pants and folding them on the ground, next to the bed. “They are children Ivan, I do not know what they were taught, or how they will react. If they say anything to our neighbors...†I say, gripping the mug in my hands. “What would they say? They can only speak German, and our neighbors speak only Italian. It will be fine, and in time... they will learn. We are not so strange as you think.†The Heavy assures, putting an arm around my shoulders and bringing me into a loose hug. “But for now, sleep, It has been a long day and will be another long one tomorrow.†I sigh as I finish my tea, placing the empty cup on a small nightstand Heavy made, next to a battered alarm clock, which I set for early tomorrow morning. It would not due for the children to wake before us. Heavy smiles as I get up to turn off the lights, feeling my way back to the bed, stubbing my toe on something I curse in German, which only makes my lover laugh. When I finally hit the mattress, Heavy has the blankets opened for me and I curl up in his arms on my side, placing my glasses on the night stand. As I drift to sleep, Heavy drags me closer. --- Greta sits at the edge of the short cliff. I recognize the scene below it, it’s by the old hospital I used to work at. It’s not like I remember. There are great vines worming their way through the building, leaking into the windows and burrowing through the walls. Greta is playing with her dress, her hair hiding her face. “Greta? Greta?†I kneel down, shaking her shoulder slightly, but she doesn't respond. "Can you hear me? Come now, why are you hiding your pretty face?" I go to brush her hair behind her ear. Where is the ribbon she uses to keep it back? Her hair snaps around my hand, and begins to worm its way up my wrist, I yank my hand back yelling. no matter how hard I try to pull away, the hair continues. Greta does not move, only kicks her feet slowly as her hair engulfs my arm and makes a leap from my shoulder to my face. The dark brown tresses cover my mouth and nose. Greta ignores me as I struggle for air, kicking her legs and staring towards the ruined hospital. I can't breath- ---- I jolt awake, sweaty and with my chest heaving. I rub my face, shuddering at the memory of Greta’s hair. When my hands stop shaking as much I grope for my glasses, bringing them to my face. 4, It is 4 am. The alarm won’t sound for another 2 hours. But I know from experience I will not be going back to sleep. Heavy shifts and groans to me left, grumbling in his sleep like a tired bear. I move the blanket back in place after I get up, I can see Heavy already moving to take over my warm spot, snoring all the while. I grab my mug from the side table and bring it with me as I make my way up stairs. Heavy has left the kitchen light on, it blinds me for a second as I open the basement door. My shaking hands put on the kettle when my eyes have adjusted. While the water boils, I make my way to the stairs, to my study. Heavy left the bathroom light on, which is good, the kitchen had ruined my night vision. My study is dominated by a large wooden desk, papers piled neatly and writing utensils where I had left them. Archimedes is standing on my desk lamp, head titled to the side, like he was alive. There are more shelves and filing cabinets placed along the walls. I grab my small work case from beside my desk, making my way down stairs, back to the kitchen. I pour my self some tea and start to leaf though patient files. Searching for anything to distract me from the memory of the nightmare.
This is absolutely heart warming and haunting (in Medic's case) all at once. I love how Heavy is acting toward the children, and even though it's such a minor comment, the sentence with Archimedes stood out to me so much. It just makes everything seem much more real. Can't wait to read more!
I kinda hate his wife for turning his daughter against him and I can't wait until we see some interaction between him and his grandchildren. Aw, he kept Archimedes!
Glad you're still updating. Did we ever find out what this part was about? “Your friend should be ashamed of himself.†She says, angry and hurt.
Maybe because of medics history in the town, leaving behind his family etc, or maybe she suspected that he was gay. Love this fic to itty bitty pieces.
>>26 You'll see...
I thought maybe I just missed something. I tend to do that. captcha: ciamod cantaloupes. cinnamon cantloupes?
Next chapter. Don't expect the rest of them to be this long! :) ~~~ I wake up at six in the morning, to the sound of the alarm. As I sit up, flicking the off switch of the battered clock, I note with some concern that I am alone in the bed. My joints creak when I stand and stretch out my back, one of the reasons I prefer not to sleep down here. For a moment I wonder why I did, then I remember. I collect my folded dirty clothes from the side table and redress quickly. I'll need a shower, but first things first. Upstairs I find Doktor sitting at the kitchen table. Crouched over a pile of medical papers, his chin in his hand, a half full mug of cold tea resting, forgotten, beside him. “Early morning or late night?†I ask. He mutters something in response I cannot hear. I walk up to the table and collect his mug, bending down to kiss the top of his head and rest my hand on his shoulder for a moment. He doesn't react, but as I go to the sink and wash his dish he puts down his paper and turns in his chair to face me. “I think I'll have to relocate my study.†He tells me quietly. “Would you mind making room in the basement?†“Not at all.†I say, shaking my head. “It's just that, the children will need a proper room-†“Friedrich. It's fine.†I give him a look, and he stops talking. He has a crease in his brow as he nods and turns back to his papers. “Ja, of course.†He mutters flipping through his pages. “Everything's always fine.†I sigh and dry my hands, before joining him at the table. “How long have you been awake?†I ask him. He doesn't look at me, but shrugs. “Not that long. I thought I'd catch up on my filing.†I decide not to push. I lean back in my chair and scratch my neck, I need a shave as well as a shower. “I have been thinking.†I begin, Medic looks up at me. “Perhaps I could build a bunk-bed? For the children.†Medic looks surprised, and a little confused, and says nothing. So I keep talking. “I have not had a project for a while, and I have all the tools to do the job. They could even help, maybe? Little Felix can help me build, little Ada can help me sew the bedding. It could be good for them to have a...distraction before we find them proper schooling. What do you think?†He is quiet for a moment. “...I think... you should do what you think is best.†He says finally, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Then might we also enroll Felix in one of my wrestling courses? He is such a small boy, perhaps he would ah, benefit from more more physical activity-†“Why are you behaving like this?†Medic interrupts. He is staring at me, brow still creased, eyes sad and heavy above dark circles. “Behaving like what?†“How are you so...less than three days ago you had no idea I would put you in this situation. I never even told you I had a daughter. Now you are.. building them bunk-beds and...†Medic seems to loose the will to continue. He takes off his glasses and massages his eyes, “I apologize. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say.†He mutters. “You would rather I panic?†I ask him, crossing my arms. Resigned, but not angry. “No....I don’t know.†He says quietly. “It might make me feel like I’m not the only one who understands the gravity of our situation.†“Do you think I should run, then? You would rather I leave you?†He flinches and looks up at me with hurt in his eyes. “Of course not! I..I...†I lean across the table and take his glasses from his worrying hands, placing them back on his face. I then take one of his thin hands in mine, feeling the prominent bones so close the the skin underneath. I doubt Doktor has eaten anything since the day he got the call two days ago. Two days...it feels much longer. “As I have said before, I do not intend to leave. You are my family, and I do not abandon family. Besides...†I smile and squeeze his hand gently. “I always wanted children.†Medic looks shocked. “You did?†I nod. I think it is time for a long overdue discussion. Medic has had to share so much of his past with me so suddenly. I believe I should try to do the same. “Did you know I was married once, as well?†I ask. He shakes his head. “You were?†“Yes, when I was nineteen, to a woman from my village. She was strong, sturdy, beautiful.†I close my eyes, briefly, in remembrance. “We tried for many years to have a child, and when we finally conceived, I think I was the happiest man in the world...†“What happened?†Doktor asks after I have been quiet for a while. His thumb rubs the side of my hand, comfortingly. “It was not meant to be.†I say, and shrug. “There were... complications. A miscarriage. In the end I lost them both.†“My god.†Doktor whispers. “Da...†I nod. It is still a painful time in my life to remember, even after so many years. “For a long time, after that, I put the thought of having children from my mind. And, when I met you...†I look up at Doktor, and I can count the worry lines in his face. “Well, I decided that falling in love with you was the final sign that I was not meant to be a father. That I was meant for something different, and that was fine.†I smile slightly. “But fate is a strange thing, it often brings you what you need, if not always what you want.†“Why did you never tell me?†He asks, still troubled. I raise an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you?†I counter. He sighs and nods apologetically. “I suppose...I did not wish to think about my life before I met you, the kind of person I was then. I was so...obsessed; with the ideal of my work, with my calling.†He scoffs, his face twisting in disgust before falling again into sadness. “...I was also more than a little cruel. My wife, my daughter...they were right to hate me.†“We have all done things we’re not proud of.†I reply. “If you had not been that man, you never would have joined RED. We never would have met.†I reach my other hand across the table and brush the hair from in front of his eyes. “It seems we both had to grow up, a little.†He laughs at this, a small miracle. “I’m almost sixty years old. Just how much more growing up do I have to do?†He chuckles, but I can tell the exhaustion behind his words is real. We share a small moment of silence, and sadness, but also peace, here at our kitchen table. Before a noise startles us. “Grandfather?†I turn around to see Ada standing at the foot of the stairs, Felix right behind her. “Ah, good morning, little ones!†I greet them, almost forgetting to shift into German in my surprise, but none the less, I put on my best grin. I am not sure how long they have been standing there, but apparently it has not been too long. It is a wonder that Doktor didn’t notice them, but perhaps it is understandable given his distracted state of mind. “Good morning, Mr. Giant Wizard.†Ada says sleepily, rubbing her eye with a tiny fist. Felix says nothing, but looks at us with some confusion, perhaps suspicion on his face. I feel Doktor remove his hand from mine and turn. He is standing up, collecting his files in his arms. “I should take these upstairs.†He says, and does not looks at me. “Excuse me.†He mutters as he steps around the children, who watch him leave. I frown for a moment, upset at his strange and sudden departure, but I have done all I can do for the moment to help him. I motion the children over to join me at the table. “Come. Sit. I will make breakfast.†I exit my chair to give them both a place to sit, adding the buying of more chairs to my growing mental list of things that now need doing. “Can we have pancakes?†Ada asks after she has climbed into a chair much too large for her. Her feet dangle comically above the ground. I smile at her and nod, heading towards the cupboards. “We’re not allowed.†Felix snaps at her. “What is this? Of course you are allowed!†I tell them. Felix glares at me from the table. “Our parents never let us have pancakes. Mother says it’s like having cake for breakfast, it isn’t proper.†“Well...†I begin, putting a pan on the stove to preheat. “Perhaps not everyday. But today is special day! Today is first day in new house. First day in Italy.†“What’s so special about Italy?†Mutters Felix. I can tell, even with my rusty German, it is meant to be a rhetorical question. I do not answer, instead I begin to hum to myself, and gather ingredients. Felix seems to have said as much as he would like, but Ada is full of questions. Which I answer happily as I make their breakfast. “Why do you talk so funny?†“I am from Russia. So my German is not so good, but I am learning! My accent is not so bad, is it?†I reply over my shoulder, pouting in mock offense and making her giggle. “Why do you and Grandfather live together?†“We like each other. This way, we can see each-other every day.†I say simply, cracking eggs into a large silver bowl. “Are you poor?†I am surprised at the question. “No. Why would you think that?†“My friend Lisa shares a bed with her sisters, and Mother says it’s because they are poor. Why do you only have one bed if you aren’t poor?†“You will have to ask your grandfather about that...†I chuckle a little uncomfortably, pretending to be focused on combining the ingredients. It is Doktor’s place to decide how much he tells the children and when. Though I think to myself that it would be a conversation better had sooner than later. “Do you have any pets?†“No. Well...†I think of Archimedes, who, despite Doktor still often treating him as though he were alive (stroking him, talking to him when he thinks I am not listening), is most certainly a dead, stuffed bird. Not a pet. “...No.†“Do you have any kids?†“No.†“Do you have a motorcycle?†“What?†I ask, thinking I have misheard her. “I always wanted to ride one.†She says, brightly. Strange child. I grin and shake my head. “No, we do not.†We did have a vespa, for a while. I smile, thinking back fondly on the times Doktor and I rode it together, before it broke... “Is Grandfather mad at us?†I stop mixing and look over my shoulder at her. “Of course not.†I tell her. “Why would he be mad at you?†“He is probably just always angry, because he’s sick.†Felix speaks up again, pushing up his glasses in a startlingly familiar way. I am careful to keep my expression cheerful, or at least calm, though the implication behind his words upsets me. “As I told you last night, he is not sick. Not angry and not sick.†I turn to the pancakes again and begin pouring out dollops into the now heated pan. The sizzle as they hit the metal. “At least, he is not angry with you.†I mutter to myself in Russian. “My mother told us he was. She said...†Felix bites his lip, then turns away, slumping in his chair and staring at the wall opposite me. I think I hear him mutter something about lying. It is sounds as though he is holding back a lot of anger, and perhaps tears. I continue to answer Ada’s questions and cook, but my mind is now firmly elsewhere. Once the children each have a full plate of pancakes in front of them I join them at the table, perched precariously on a footstool I retrieved from under the sink. Ada barely takes a breath as she devours her breakfast, syrup dripping down the front of her nightgown. Her delighted expression when I brought her her plate easily made up for the mess of dishes I have ahead of me. Felix however...has not taken a bite, instead he is pushing pieces around with his fork, staring down at his plate morosely. Once it looks like Ada has had her fill, and Felix has stopped moving his fork altogether, I clap my hands to my legs and stand up. “Now you are done eating breakfast, you have bath, get dressed and ready for day, yes? Long day I have planned.†They both look up at me. “You both still want to go for ice-cream? Maybe to movie theater?†“Yeah!†Ada chirps. Felix says nothing. “Good! Then leave dishes here and come upstairs.†The follow me out of the kitchen and up the creaking stairway. When we get to the bathroom Felix’s voice startles me. “I can make my own bath, you know! I’m almost ten and I can take of myself, and Ada too. We don’t need your help.†He ushers Ada into the bathroom and then glares up at me, daring me to contradict him, to say he is too young. I raise my hands. “Alright then, just be careful. I will be out here if you need me.†He turns away. “There are towels-!†The door slams and I wince. “...on the, uh, rack.†I finish for no-one. Feeling somewhat defeated, I walk down the short hallway to Medic’s study. The door is closed, I push it open. Inside Doktor naps on his desk, his forehead resting on his folded arms. At the creak of the door he startles awake and looks up at me. Eyes heavy and unfocused. “You did not sleep at all last night, did you?†I ask him, concerned. “I was just resting.†He says formally, adjusting his shirt. He has showered and dressed but still looks so...unfinished somehow. As if there is something missing. Ah! of course. I walk towards him and motion for him to stand up, he does so, looking confused until my hands go for his untied neck-tie. “Stop. You’re filthy.†He says, stepping back a little. I look down and see that I am covered in pancake batter. Bashfully I wipe my hands on my pajamas and then hold them out so he can see they are clean. He sighs and steps closer to me, letting me tie his tie for him. “Will you come out with us today? Or are you going to continue sulking?†I ask him, as my fingers move about his neck. “I am not-!†He starts. I raise an eyebrow. He stops, takes a breath and then starts again more quietly. “I’m not sulking, Ivan. I have...work to do. My patients are expecting me.†He takes my hands away and finishing adjusting his tie himself. “And your grandchildren?†I ask, voice low. “You are more than capable of showing them the, ah, sights, as it were.†He says, stepping around the desk. “They’ll have the best guide in all of Italy!†Before he exits the room he flashes me a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. Then he is gone, and my shoulders sag as I watch him go. Feeling dejected and alone, I glance at his desk. At the stuffed dove. Some of the hunters in my village would stuff and mount their kill, though I always found it an odd thing to do. I find it even odder seeing it done to such a little bird. “Maybe you could try talking some sense into him?†The bird, of course, says nothing. “Nyet... I thought not.â€
Oh man I am in love with this story! I love the characterization of both Medic and Heavy. I love how Heavy isn't a dumbed down puppy who follows Medic around everywhere, yet at the same time he isn't BIG GENIUS RUSSIAN MAN. Don't get me wrong, I love me some intellectual Heavy, but I've always had a slight issue with Heavy displaying the same kind of evil genius that Medic does. I love that this Heavy is smart and quick on the uptake without pushing that envelope. And Medic, ohhh Medic makes my heart hurt. I can just *feel* how old he is feeling right now. Old and sad and just... guh. I love their interactions. The scene at the table in this bit is just so intimate, so domestic without being cloyingly sweet... Very well done! The children are intriguing, and that says a lot coming from me. Whenever kids come about in Heavy/Medic fics I generally groan and read through my fingers. But these two are quite the interesting duo, as well as Heavy's interaction with them. I very much want to know when Felix is going to lose his temper enough to just bust out with what their Mother ACTUALLY told them... what this "sickness" really is. Because I'm pretty sure Heavy already suspects what I suspect too. I just wanna know if we're right. SO WELL DONE! MOAR PLZ.
I really like this fic, and I usually don't like OC fics either. But the characterization of Medic and Heavy is just so good. One thing, and it's really small, but in the first couple chapters, it really sounded like Heavy himself was telling the story, or Medic. Like, Heavy's narrations were simpler and more short and to-the-point sentences, while Medic's were a bit more expressive. Even the first person narrations were subtly in character, which was awesome and the icing on the cake for this fic. Don't lose that - as the story goes on in the later chapters the narration sounds a little more like first person generic. Love Archimedes in there... that's so clever...
You know what, I take that back (Anon 32 still). On re-read you're still doing an awesome job keeping even the first person narrations in character, even really subtle things like Medic using contractions now and then while Heavy doesn't. Don't lose that, still! Keep it up!
This fic is eye-catching, and beautifully written, but I have to ask: why are you bothering with TF2 in the first place? These characters don't seem to have much to do with the game or the characters. If you were to go through the fic and delete all instances of "Medic" and "Heavy", or "RED" and "BLU", this would still make perfect sense, because the characters are different enough from the canon classes to work wonderfully on their own. They don't need to be tied down into being TF2 OCs. Your characterization is better than that; one would need no prior knowledge of the Medic/Heavy classes to fully understand this story and the characters within. In my eyes, this isn't really a TF2 fic. It's great, but not TF2.
>>34 I think that's unfair of you to say. Just because it's a good story that could easily stand on it's own sans context doesn't necessarily mean that it's "not TF2." It's just taking a pair of characters from an otherwise fairly flat game and humanizing them to a believable point. It is a TF2 fic, one that expands very cleverly on a sliver of a concept.
>>34 Could the fact that the story stands on its own be a positive thing? Some stories rely too heavily on the reader's prior knowledge rather than providing their own characterization. Jeffian and Hamsters, I'm loving the story. What's going on with Medic's "sickness"? How will Ada react when Felix tells her about it? Will Felix ever end up genuinely liking Medic and Heavy? Why is this story so delightful? I hope to find out.
Stop trying to put words in my mouth, for fuck's sake. I don't even get why you idiots are offended.
was gonna wait to comment on the next update, but guys, please calm down. I don't want this shit clogging up the thread, k? We're not offended by Drillbot's comment, we'll take everything into consideration, thanks to everyone for their input and support.
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Hey guys, next chapter, hope you enjoy! commetns and critiques are always welcome! ----------- Small pebbles grind under my feet as I walk down the street, towards the clinic. It is only a few blocks away from my home. Most days it is a pleasant walk, allowing me to calm my mind before I see my patients. My workplace is a two story building, the waiting room and public clinic are on the ground floor, with the private offices on the second. The lights are on, my receptionist Luisa must already be in there, getting ready for the day. I go through the front, using my key and locking it behind me. It is only eight o’clock, we will not be opening for another hour. “ Good morning.†Luisa’s eyes widen in surprise when she looks up from her books and sees me walk in. She leans forward on her desk and I find myself wishing she had worn a less revealing blouse. I have often tried to remind her that this is a workplace, and as such demands a certain level of...propriety, but she always seems to think I am joking. She is interested in me, I know. I have tried to discourage her advances, but not too emphatically, lest I draw suspicion upon myself. “Good morning Friedrick. We didn’t expect you back until tomorrow, I’ll let some of your patients know you’re in.†She says, smiling at me. “Don’t bother, Luisa. I am not staying long.†I said, moving past her and towards the stairs, ignoring her farewells. I quickly unlock my office door, but I cannot disappear behind it not fast enough. “Good morning Friedrick!†“Good morning Dr. Viggiano.†“Ah ah! I told you to call me Enrico, we are colleagues. I take it you have resolved your family problems?†Dr. Viggiano asks, approaching me from the direction of his office. He is a lithe, jovial man, mostly made of wiry muscle, with a small dark beard framing his angular jaw. “No, not yet. I still have things I need to take care of. I’m only in for a moment.†I smile tightly at him, my hand clenching on the doorknob. “Ah, so you’re not seeing patients today? You know Mrs. Rossi refuses to see anyone but you. She was in here yesterday complaining about her foot, wouldn’t even let me take a peek at it!†“I apologize, but there are still matters that I need to attended to. I wish to complete them as quickly as possible.†I say, opening and closing my door on his hurried goodbye. He often reminds me of Scout, nosy and always pushing, behaving more familiar towards me than what I am comfortable with. It is stuffy in here. The building itself is small, making my office cramped, with little room for my desk and the two chairs I keep for private consults. I sit down wearily at my desk, placing my suitcase flat on it before opening it and taking out the papers from the adoption center. I have always had better focus when I am in my office at work. There are no distractions here, in part for the fact that the room is terribly dull, even with Homer stuffed and perched on my windowsill, looking out. Archimedes and Homer were the only two of my doves to survive through to the end of the contract. It is a pity that I could not hook my birds up to the respawn machine, and have them receive the same reduced aging Heavy and I are effected by, both would still be alive if I could have. I flip through the papers idly as my mind works. It is still bothering me, why I have not been arrested yet. By all logic, I should have been detained at the orphanage when I showed them my old passports. Though it seems as if RED has done more than grant me a new identity. They seem to have erased all that I had done as my former self, as well. It is troubling, to say the least, that they went through my entire history so thoroughly, erasing what they desired. It is one of the questions that concerned me now, the other is how Hans Naumenn managed to contact me in the first place. RED was meticulous in the crafting of my new identity, as they are with all their business. How else could the company keep a magnificent thing like the respawn technology a secret? There should have been no way for them to find me- Spy. Spy had stayed with the with the company after our contracts had run out. Why, I am not sure. I know he had no more love for the company than the rest of us, but he is still there, and he has never made an effort to leave, if the post cards he sends us are to be believed. At any rate, he is the only one remaining with the company who could possibly be linked to my former self, have my information, and care enough to make sure my grandchildren found me. I have to be sure though. I reach behind me, picking up Homer gently. He was always the most cautious of my birds. I turn him over in my hands, petting the soft Downy feathers of his stomach before gently prying his left wing away from his body. There is a hardly noticeable slit there, just under it. Reaching inside, I bring out a scrap of paper with several numbers on it. The code looks like a jumbled, nonsensical mess, but it is Spy’s number. I quickly dial, listening to the tone of the phone ringing. He most likely will not answer it, he almost never does. But to my surprise, after a moment I hear the click of the phone being picked up. “Bonjour, Doctor.†A smooth voice says over the receiver. “I do hope you have taken in your grandchildren. I would love to hear a bit of good news.†I hear a tapping sound, I believe it is those expensive shoes he wore when we worked together. He is surprisingly superstitious, and believes those old, burnt things to be good luck. “So, you did give them my new number?†I say, slipping the paper back into its hiding place. “But of course. How could I leave your petits-enfants without a guardian? But do not worry, I have shared your information with no one else. †A door clicks in the background. “You are lucky you caught me. I have been very busy the last few days.†“When has RED ever given you a break?†The Spy laughs and I hear him take a drag form his cigarette. “Non, they usually don’t. Was there something you needed?†“Yes, I need to know just how much and what RED has erased from my previous life.†“Oh, so it isn’t just a friendly chat? Very well, it will take me a few days to find out. I am, after all, a busy man. But I will try to gather the information you request.†The Spy says, sounding slightly disappointed, and hangs up the phone, no goodbyes, as usual. I sigh as I place the receiver back onto its hook, letting my breath seep out. The clock ticks in the background, steady and constant. I can hear the muffled talking of people downstairs and clicks of shoes on hard wood. I drum my fingers on my desk before getting up, gathering my things, taking my leave through the side exit. Thankfully I do not run into my colleague or our secretary. I cannot stay here. The focus I usually find in my offices eludes me today. I am still troubled. Hopefully the Library has some new books.
Keep the updates coming; I love this story! Although I doubt it, I can't help but wonder if we will be seeing/hearing from any of the other team members. I loved Spy here.
>>37 Wow, incredibly butthurt. No one even expressed offense.