Augh, so, this is the beginning of a very lengthy fic I’ve been working on. Since I don’t have a beta I wanted to get some ConCrit on my work so I could apply it to the later chapters. Honestly it’s my first FanFic, and I’ve been wracking my brain on how to create the most Cannon consistent characters that are also believable. The harsher you are with this one, the better the later chapters will be. Once I get a tad bit halfway through the story I’ll start posting daily in this thread with all the revised stuff. I want to do a daily update where I’m working ahead of where I’m posting so there is something to look at everyday. After following some of AnnetheCatDetective’s stuff day after day, I can definitely appreciate a daily FanFic update. Nothing’s better than getting home after class and reading quality smut. Hopefully mine will be decent caliber. I am so ridiculously nervous hitting the submit button now. Blah, fire away. ____________________________________________________________ Chapter 1 - Beginnings Cold. The most notable aspect of the Coldfront was the cold. That and the snow. Huddling in his coat, Medic searched his office for the heater. Looking beneath piles of boxes from unpacking his office at the new base the Medic milled around the room until he saw the small machine. It was perched unnecessarily on the top of his large bookcase. “Sheisse,†the German muttered, extending himself awkwardly to the top shelf to grab it. Why he had placed it there was a mystery, and how he got it there originally even more so. Attempting to use his office chair to reach the top of the bookcase, the Medic reached high only for the chair to swivel and send him staggering into the wall. “It looks like yeh might be havin’ a problem there, doc,†a thick drawl came from behind him. Medic snapped his back against the bookcase, startled and staring wide-eyed. “Easy there, pardner…†Engineer raised his hands, laughing easily to the Medic’s undue alarm. “Mein gott, I’m sorry. I did not hear you valk in,†The Medic nervously felt down his coat, fighting down wrinkles that had bunched up over the day. Glancing back up, he set his face into a professional façade: distant but with a faint smile. “Now’s mah appointment, aint it? Ya lost a track of time, I’m guessin?†Engineer gave a toothy grin. His cheeks were flushed from having come in from the cold, his short blond hair wet from the snow. Behind his mask, Medic’s heart fluttered like a moth to a glowing lamp. “Ah… It seems so…†Medic trailed off while trying to keep his eyes from wandering down. Stiffly he shifted his weight as he reached for his planner sitting on the desk. Indeed, it did seem like the Engineer was scheduled for his evaluation then, something he’d forgotten in the flurry of unpacking. Pulling himself from his thoughts, the Medic gestured Engineer to sit in front of the desk, “Please, zit down and relax.†“Much obliged,†the man responded and sat down. The chair hardly squeaked under his weight, easily accommodating the Engineer despite his squatter stature. The Medic studied the man for a moment as he referred to the small notes provided by RED on the man. Placing the plump jolly face of the happy Texan to the credentials of an incredibly intelligent and destructive man was mind boggling. “Now please forgive me, I am not a man of ze Freudian analysis, so much of zis will be merely… simple questions. I am not sure vhy zis duty vas given to me,†Thinking, Medic ruffled his hair but then quickly put it back into a small curl. While the body was no mystery to the Medic, the soul, and the emotions along with it, were a struggle. German culture prided emotional distance and every child learned early on to stifle themselves. While he knew well how to read every stitch of anger that may line a schoolmaster’s face, other emotions were often confusing. “That’s alright, doc. No need to fret over things. I understand that RED probably wants ta get ta know the men they done hired, make sure they ain’t unhinged in any sense. I’m open to whatever you’ve got coming.†The Engineer lounged back in the small office chair, making the stiff metal structure look comfortable. “Gut. Hopevully zis vill be quick so we can both be on our way,†the Medic said, adding quickly, “not zhat I do not appreciate your company. I am merely saying-“ The Engineer chuckled, “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I got ya.†“Vell, I suppose ve’ll get started. Seeing as how I am not privy to your name, are you fine vith me calling you Herr Engineer?†The Medic asked cautiously. He attempted to mimic the American’s laidback demeanor yet found himself too stiff to do so. Shaking himself mentally, he waited for the Texan’s answer. “Ah can’t see a reason why not? I am what I am, am I not?†The Engineer chuckled to himself, his blue eyes seeming to glisten. Medic blushed noticeably in response, which forced him to turn down to his question pad. “Ah, sehr gut. So, Herr Engineer, do you use any zubstances? Like an alcoholic beverage, a cigarette, hash?†The Engineer stroked his scruff thoughtfully and readjusted in his seat, “Well, like any southern man I enjoy a good beer. Never been a smokin’ man myself, however. And hash, well, have tried it, but don’t have the need for it.†A pencil scratched and Medic continued, “Gut, gut, now do you have any predilections of any kind?†“Pardon me?†The Engineer stopped. He tilted his head to the side, frowning. “Are you meaning of a sexual nature?†The Medic swallowed hard and tried to drum up some form of composure, “Well, yes, but you must know that all of zis is private. Patient-doctor. Zhey asked zat I only report information which could threaten ze team dynamic .†“And could one’s sexual preference threaten team dynamic?†The Engineer questioned aggressively. He leaned forward with his jaw rigid, eyes flashing dangerously in anticipation for the doctor’s answer. The Medic floundered and broke his mask, “N-no. I do not care if you are homosexual, heterosexual, or vhatever. It has no bearing on me. All zis’ is merely formality… A sheet of questions, a –“ “No need to worry your head now, doc. I get it, sorry about getting excited over that,†The Engineer resumed leaning back. “You seem to have your heart in the right place. Ah suppose I trust you unless you give me a reason not to.†“I vill keep zhat in mind, Engie. Vhile I may not be ze most typical of doctorz, I understand ze need for privacy in personal matters.†The Medic’s hand loosened his tie stiffly, letting himself breathe easier. “Now about yer question, I suppose I may describe myself as a homosexual,†the Engineer mused. Writing down the answer, Medic pressed on with the next question, “Preference? Younger? Older?†The Medic attempted to keep a straight face, yet he found himself growing hot and giddy. The prospect of there being a friendly member on the team was comforting, but the possibility of a romance with this same man was exciting. Using all of his strength, the doctor tried to seem unconcerned, but his cheeks flushed at the thought of the possibilities. “What? Are you sizing me up?†The Texan stared across the desk, analyzing the German like a schematic. The Medic assumed the gig was up until the Engineer ripped into a hard belly laugh and slapped his knee, “I’m just fuckin’ with you, Doc. God, you should have seen your face!†Allowing Engineer to laugh, Medic sighed and lightly chuckled along with the Texan. The larger man was obviously comfortable with him and joking around meant at least a friendship was now secured. As the Engineer settled down, the doctor threw the questions haphazardly onto his desk with a clatter, “Vell, zese questions seem to be far from appropriate. I vill figure out somezing else to satisfy RED.†“Ah well, what can you expect from a bunch of bureaucrats anyway, doc. I’m guessing I’m allowed to leave then? I want to get some work done on setting up the respawn before supper tonight.†“Ja. I am done vith you I suppose. No need to bore you vith more of zese awful questions,†his hand waved lazily towards the sheet. “Sounds good.†The Engineer made a movement to leave, but stopped to turn back to the Medic still sitting at his desk, “Now, I’m not sure if you saw, but there is supposed to be a get together of all of us mercenaries tonight around nine in the lounge. Would be a shame if you didn’t show up.†“No no, I intend to come, Engie. I must meet my comrades eventually, ja?†The Medic gave a smirk. The Engineer laughed in response and sauntered out, trailed by the wandering eyes of the Medic. For the doctor, the coming party was nerve wracking. He typically avoided parties, having spent much of his time in his youth alone, pouring over books and studying to go to med school. Even professionally talking to people was a struggle, and in a setting with so many unknowns it was sickening. The Medic felt himself already sweating from stress. Reaching for the alcohol he kept in his desk, he unscrewed the bottle and poured himself a shot. Normally reserved for unlucky patients undergoing conscious surgery, the alcohol now served as anesthetic to Medic’s anxiety. Placing the container on the table, Medic began to be absorbed in thought. No need to stress getting along with the other men as long there was Engie to help him survive his current employment. Perhaps he should stick close to him throughout the party. Swirling the drink in the small glass, the Medic leaned back in his seat. This was actually the first party he’d go to single. His wife was no longer with him; a loss that sounded worse at face value. She needed a man of German descent to protect her during the war, and he needed a cover from the prying eyes of the Reich. It was convenient. As two friends in desperate circumstances, they clung to each other and served as mutual protection. Medic sighed deeply as he remembered her harsh glances when she saw him eyeing a man. Her click of a tongue in irritation. While she did not condone his sexuality, the risk of outing him while he could in turn reveal her Jewish ancestry was not a risk she was willing to take. Eventually cancer took her away from him and he moved on after a short period of mourning. They were merely friends, not even the closest sort. She would carry on with trysts outside the relationship, and Medic would watch men from afar. Now with her no longer acting as an anchor at home, he was free to take the highest paying jobs regardless of where they were. And alas, here he was, in a cold sick bay with a shot glass and a bundle of nerves. Downing the drink, he prepared for an agonizing evening.
Looking forward to this.
Oh HELL yes.
I like where this is goin :)
I am so ridiculously nervous hitting the submit button now. Oh god, i totally understand ya! But i guess you don't have to worry if the problems is if ya will get flames, insults and stuff. The majority around here is pretty respectful when it comes to give opinions. (also, i'm very late for classes, but i swear i will read it when i have time, since it took my attention).
One thing I can think of - if Medic's so stiff and aware of his inability to read others, and having asked if he can use "Herr Engineer," it's a little odd to have him promptly slip into the more casual "Engie" so quickly.
Wow! I am so excited by this response! Thank you so much for the enthusiasm. Btw - I'm still tinkering with my name, but it's safe to say anything caffeine related is probably me. I have yet to learn how to link to certain posts, so I'll sorta do it like this until someone can drop the knowledge on me: @5 - Thanks for dropping in. I have gone late to classes to finish a fic before. One of Marty's caused me to straight out skip a class because I was too entertained. Thanks for the pep talk, I have noticed that people here are very nice. I'm mostly just nervous because my stuff may not be up to snuff. @6 - Wow, that is something so simple and important I didn't think of it. Thank you for picking up on that and I just made the changes to future dialogue. @2,3,4 - Thanks for popping in. I'm worried you guys think this is strictly MedicXEngie and I'm sorry to disappoint you that it will be for only a bit. Hopefully what I have planned will be a good substitute?
>@2,3,4 - Thanks for popping in. I'm worried you guys think this is strictly MedicXEngie and I'm sorry to disappoint you that it will be for only a bit. Hopefully what I have planned will be a good substitute? If it's well-written, I am so there. I ain't picky.
>>7 For a post link, hold shift and press the "greater than" sign twice, then release and type the post number.
I agree with >>8. I'll read anything if it's written well.
Sorry to be so anal OP, but it's 'canon' not 'Cannon'.
To be honest, I find even glimpses of anything not Heavy/Medic to be very refreshing, so I was drawn in right away. I really like your writing style, however, and this fic has intrigued me, so I intend to stay for the ride no matter what!
>>11 Well that's embarrassing. I thought there was something wrong with it. >>12 Ah, then you may not like the endgame for this as much. I will agree though, despite me loving HeavyXMedic, it can get dull. That is why I wanted to start with something different before just going to old hat. Also, thanks for the compliment. You guys are amazingly kind. Alright, due to how warm and fuzzy you guys made me feel about my first chapter, I'm gonna drop the second chapter. I feel much weaker about this one on the whole so there should be ample to critique. ___________________________________________________________ Chapter II – The Party A few hours later, Medic emerged from his office and locked it. Not being accustomed to alcohol, the doctor found himself more flustered than he had anticipated. Looking down the hallway, he glanced outside to the falling snow at Coldfront. “Mein Gott… Wunderbar…†he hummed, pressing his forehead to the glass. The freezing window soothed his tense nerves and carried away the excess warmth from the alcohol. He was rapidly beginning to regret leaving the safety of his room for the evening. He was already slightly tipsy and tonight promised to have more drink along with stifling social anxiety. Plus, there was still a mountain of work to be finished before the fight on Monday, much of which he had planned to do tonight. Now it was all piled onto Sunday, a prospect which stressed the older man to the core. If only for a moment he had the peaceful scenery to calm his aching mind. Outside in the snow there was silence. Beautiful and solitary silence. If the night went badly, at least he would be able to return to this. Hearing a door shut within the building, the Medic was pulled from his thoughts. “Sheisse,†he groaned as he pulled himself away from the glass and ventured down the hallway. As he walked, rooms passed, each with small signs adorning their door. He stopped in front of one in particular. “The Heavy? Vhat an unfortunate moniker.†He smirked. Imagining a rotund and bald man, not unlike Churchill or Alfred Hitchcock, the Medic made his way through the cafeteria to the entrance of the lounge. Beyond the closed doors he could hear voices, music, and the merry clinking of glasses. Medic hesitated outside, his hand resting on the handle like a trigger. Slowly he drew away and rested his back on the wall, debating his intention to walk in at all. A door opened in front of him with a loud squeak and the Medic looked up to meet the dark eyes of towering behemoth. “Ah! Hello!†a boom erupted from the man. He strode forward, his body full and broad with grand shoulders that gave way to a generous waist - muscular but with a layer of fat. Wearing a blue sweater, the smiling yet gruff Rus man looked more akin to an overstuffed teddy bear than a hardened mercenary. “Is nice to meet you. Will warn, English not good yet.†He extended a large and weathered hand. “No problem, comrade. Learning a new language is always slow,†The Medic glanced down at the man’s extended palm and tentatively met it for a handshake. “I am ze Medic.†“Very nice! Good to have doktor on team! Keep me well, I hope,†The man patted him heavily on the back, forcing the Medic to stumble and catch himself on the wall, “I am Heavy Weapons Guy, but you may call me Heavy, da?†“Yes, that will be fine, Herr Heavy,†the Medic responded as he inspected the man objectively. The Russian was confusing. Throughout World War II he had heard of the cruelty on the Eastern Front, the atrocities experienced by POW’s at the hands of the barbaric Soviets. Whispers of torture, beheadings, and various gruesome tragedies would often echo in his ward during the war. As the front came closer to the hospital walls, the rumors intensified as word began to circulate of Soviets raping and pillaging cities. It was not long before the Soviet was equated with evil incarnate. This man was far from that. “Good.†Heavy reached for the steel handle with his massive hand, “Now we go party.†Beginning to turn the latch, he paused, and looked sidelong at Medic. “Are you okay, Doktor?†The Medic was shaking nervously and slinking away from the doorway, “Ja… Ja…†Shaking his head, he turned away from Heavy. Embarassed by his sudden snap in nerves he tried desperately to put on a calm face while pretending to fix his tie. A broad palm rested on his shoulder. Glancing back, the Medic made eye contact with an encouraging smile from Heavy. “If Doktor needs moment…†Heavy started. Medic couldn’t tell if Heavy was aware of his state of mind. The face was not comforting, merely friendly. Perhaps his façade of confidence was working well enough. “Danke, Herr, but I am ready. Let us go,†the Medic answered. Together they opened the doors. As they stepped inside they were greeted by a warm draft from the fireplace. The room was paneled by stained wood, a much cozier interior compared to the rest of the base, with rich red carpet that ran from corner to corner. On the opposite wall there was a brick fireplace crackling away on a fresh stack of wood. On one side was a tall, lithe body, wearing orange aviators while holding a mug with the inscription #1 Sniper. He puffed away at a cigarette as he listened intently to the musings of a masked man across from him. The other was broad about the shoulders, trim around the waist, and was wearing a suit without the jacket. He too was smoking, however his had long since burned out and served merely as an ornament to his animated hands as he described some tale. In the center of the room was a table for cards where several men were gathered around, bumbling about to grab drinks or snatch a seat for the next round of poker. One man was already beyond sloshed, his eyes shining from his black skin as he smiled and chortled loudly to even the smallest joke. To his right was a being in a complete rubber body suit and gas mask. It was talking as well, muffled beyond comprehension, however the black man seemed to understand it fine despite its impediments. To his left was the Engineer who was absorbed in the task of shuffling the deck of cards. As he finished, he looked up to see Heavy and Medic walk in. “Well hello there, pardners. Interested in a game of Texas Hold-em?†he smiled broadly. Compared to his greasy work attire from earlier, the Engineer was nicely dressed in a fresh flannel shirt and a pair of work jeans. “Ah, poker. Good game. Deal me in,†the Heavy thundered away towards the table of refreshments. Amongst the fragile bottles, one could easily have mistaken the Heavy for a bull in a china shop. Yet despite some initial clumsy clinking of bottles, he delicately mixed several drinks, stopping occasionally to sniff the mixture and sip its contents. Medic stared at the enigmatic figure, confused as of what to make of the large man. “How about you there, Doc? You interested?†The Engineer gestured to the Medic with the deck of cards and then pointed to a seat next to him. “ Herr Engineer, I am quite bad at cards,†The Medic scratched his neck nervously as he weighed the distinct possibility of making a fool of himself. The jolly liquored man beside the Engineer burst out in response, “Come ‘ere, man! Never too late to master te’ game!†He stood up and came close to the doctor, his breath laced with the smell of rum. Grabbing the Medic’s arm gruffly, he lead the Medic to sit down next to the Engineer and returned to his own seat, “I’m the Demoman, but you can just call me Demo.†He took a mouthful from his bottle and eyed the Medic over. Breaking into a large smile, he gestured to the Medic and called loudly, “Someone get this man a drink! He’s as stiff as a board!†“Already taken care of, Demo,†The Texan revealed a beer from a case next to him, a stash he smuggled in from back home. He opened it up and gave it to the Medic, smiling widely to his new friend. “Danke, but I do not drink beer. Thank you, though,†the Medic pushed the brown bottle back to a slightly deflated looking Engineer. “I’ll still drink, I’ll just mix something from the table.†Sliding out of his seat, he stood up facing the Heavy who was already returning with two drinks in his hands. “Shot-gunnin’ it already, son? I must say I approve.†The Engineer tipped his head forward while taking an appreciative swig from his drink. “No. Drink is Doktor. Heard he did not like beer, so made him something,†the Heavy answered, handing the mixture to the Medic. In his hands the glass looked like a delicate snowflake, suspended delicately between his fingertips. Blushing, the Medic took it as the Heavy grinned warmly. “It something from home. A bit of Russia.†“Th-Thank you, Herr Heavy,†the doctor sipped quickly from the glass, attempting to hide his appreciative glow. Sitting back down again, he cradled the drink between his hands as he sunk into his chair. The Heavy sat down across from him, next to the Demo, greeting the other man with a hard rap on the back. “Iz zere room for anouzzer?†A thick accent erupted from the man in the mask. He walked forward gracefully, a gentleman out of place in a room full of gruff mercenaries. Even by comparison to the well kept Medic, the man was impeccably groomed with plucked eye brows and a small splash of cologne that wafted pleasantly around him. “Why sure, Spy, just sit right on over there next to the Doctor. Sniper, would you like in?†The Engineer glanced back to the figure at the fireplace. He waved them off, “Nah, mate, maybe later. Gonna get myself some proper beer from my camper to wash out the taste your American piss.†The Sniper flashed a sharp grin as he walked towards the table while the Demo collapsed into a fit of approving laughter. “Whatever happened to your ‘Always be polite’ bullshit?†Engineer tore into him, “Not just an hour ago you were tellin’ me your rules of the road!†Sniper pushed him jokingly, “Fuck off, ya old wrench.†“You watch your mouth there, boy. Now, either you give me a swig of that Kangeroo brew of yours and it damn near knocks my socks off, or you give me an apology for that there blasphemy you were spoutin’.†The Texan mocked annoyance as he pointed at the Sniper. Sniper merely left with a furtive hand movement that looked intermixed between a thumbs up and an errant middle-finger. Turning back to the table, the Engineer set the deck down in front of him and addressed the rest of the group, “Now men, the name of the game is Texas Hold-em. Before we get playing, take a moment to get used to each other before we get real mean and nasty.†The Medic turned to the Spy next to him, “I’m ze team Medic. I vill be healing you.†The doctor winced noticeably and took another sip of his alcohol, “I’m sorry, that vas a terrible introduction.†The Spy merely laughed heartily and extended a hand, “And I am ze Spy. No need for stiff introductions. Your work will speak for itself, and, considering you were hired by RED, I can assume it is excellent.†“The same for you, Herr Spy,†The Medic nodded pleasantly, the compliment puffing him up considerably. “May tonight start the beginning of a wonderful war.†Chuckling, Medic held out his glass which was met by the Spy’s with a delicate clink. “Oui, may ze enemy come to fear our very visage!†The Spy took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. Its end grew bright as he took a hefty drag and looked over the Medic beside him. “So a doctor? I presume you are quite intimate with ze human body, non?†The Frenchman‘s eyebrows waggled suggestively. Liquid sprayed from the Medic’s mouth as the suited man’s chest heaved with a hearty chuckle, “Is joke! Ze look on your face was priceless, Doctor. What I would not give for a Polaroid of that.†The Medic grinned weakly and turned back to his glass. “Alright, alright, everybody gone and said there hellos then, let’s do this. Everybody here know the rules?†The Engineer looked expectantly around the table, and seeing nobody raise their hands, he continued, “Ok, since it seems we all are experienced, we can skip the instruction bullshit.†Methodically he dealt out the cards, landing them skillfully in front of each player. Slowly the medic slid his cards to the edge and looked. He had received a 2 and 7, off suite. Frustrated, he pushed the cards down and took mouth full from his drink. As everyone bid in around the table, Pyro and him folded and leaned back in their seats. “Ah, better luck next time, doc,†the Engineer laid his hand on the Medic’s knee. The German twitched his drink at the touch and made eye contact with the broadly grinning Engineer. Tonight might not be so bad after all.
One man was already beyond sloshed, his eyes shining from his black skin Eyes plural?
No Scout? Ah, he probably can't drink anyway. Oh Gott, Medic is going to be so sloshed. I also like how at ease the crew seem to be falling in with each other for once. Looks like they're going to be a strong team.
>>14 I wish I could say that was intentional and was some sort of plot device, but no, I straight out missed that. >>15 Actually, next chapter will have Scout. I worry, does it seem like their kindness is disingenuous? My assumption is that if RED hires mercenaries, they will see to it that they construct a team of professionals who know it is important to work as a team. I also think that like anybody rooming together, people act nice during their initial week together, but then grow slowly annoyed at everyone's tendencies. However, I'm concerned that perhaps I went too far with the niceness and now everyone is just spouting rainbows too much.
>>16 I wouldn't say so- it's sensible that a group of strangers sent to work with each other in a remote place would start out trying to be on good terms with each other. Also, I'm eager to see where this is going. My only quibble with this chapter would be that your initial description of Sniper, ("a tall, lithe body, wearing orange aviators while holding a mug with the inscription #1 Sniper") seemed a bit wordy and nonsensical. Identifying him as a tall, lithe man wearing orange aviators probably would have sufficed.
I love this, this is fantastic, please let Medic get totally plastered- oops, did I type that? Ohohoh... I enjoy seeing all of the critique and I can't wait to see how it may affect your work in the future. I'm loving this fic, and I can't wait to see more of it!
>>18 Ask and you shall receive. >>17 Went through with a fine tooth comb and hopefully removed all of the extraneous nonsense. I believe this one is quite a bit shorter than the last two chapters, but it felt inappropriate to attach it to the previous one or the one that follows it. Ideally it stands alright on its own. Also, after posting a few things this past week, I feel like going for a weekly update instead of just waiting until I let enough chapter pile up. I write maybe two complete chapters a week, revised and what not, and I might as well update and get consistent concrit. Already comments are forcing me to really look at my chapters closely, so I'm thinking this is a win-win scenario. ***About the chapter: I'm finally introducing one of the main themes of this fanfic! (It's the German Guilt, not the racism.) _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapter III – The One Where Everyone’s Drunk After several hours of play, everyone was feeling the full effects of their respective booze. The Demo swayed like a buoy at sea whilst fighting off the desire to black out. The Pyro was sloppily propped up against the Demo, slurring its muffled words to a low consistent hum. The Engineer consistently forgot what his hand was and would occasionally reveal his cards to the table in an attempt to check. The Spy was noticeably struggling to keep a poker face while bluffing, but was rather collected in comparison to the rest of the table. Yet taking advantage of all of this was the Heavy, still perk and proper, who was accruing a hefty sum of money at the hands of his overly liquored teammates. Across the room the Sniper was relaxing by the fire while engaging in conversation with a young American man. During a rather tense moment of betting, the boy had crashed in unannounced, loudly commenting on poker hands. After a round of jeers and pushing from the players, the young man settled down next to the Sniper, puffing away angrily at having been dismissed by the older men. Despite his youthful appearance, the Scout, as he liked to be called, was apparently in his early twenties. This fact became readily known after the Engineer had denied him liquor which caused the Scout to smack him upside the head with a magazine. After a slight scuffle, the Sniper offered up some of his brew to silence the fighting. In turn, the once hyper Scout was now heavily sedated, melting into an overstuffed chair. Every now and then, the Scout would sit up in his seat and attempt basic communication with people nearby, much to the amusement of Sniper. The Scout twirled his hand conversationally “But like, rugby is fricken’… what’s the word…†“Don’t be knockin’ rugby, mate. It’s a thousand times more the sport than baseball is,†The Sniper cocked a smile, baiting the boy. “What did you say? Cause I swear, I’m gonna knock you sideways, ya fricken’ wombat!†The Scout started, pushing himself up in his seat aggressively. “Easy there, pardner.†The Engineer held his hand out to stop the Scout and then turned to Sniper, chuckling, “Don’t mess with the boy, Sniper. This young buck might tear you a new one.†“I ain’t doin’ nothing. Just ‘avin a good talk,†A toothy grin spread across the Sniper’s face as he lifted the bottle to his lips. Glancing back over to the Scout, he caught the American nicking another drink from his case, “Hey, hey, get off me shit, wanka.†Amid the sounds of the Scout’s wailing over being denied another beer, the Heavy was chuckling deeply as he raked in another pot much to the dismay of Medic. Toying with the stack of chips in front of him, the Heavy let them fall with pleasing clicks on the card table, “Dat was fun round. You had good hand. Mine was better.†The Medic deflated slightly but was encouraged by a calming squeeze on the leg by the Engineer, “Next time you’ll get him, Doc.†The Medic nodded kindly and glanced down at the hand that laid on his thigh. Dreamily, the Medic imagined how the rough palm would feel adventuring to his crotch. “So babies, another round?†The Heavy cracked his knuckles, rousing Medic from his stupor. “Bay-bee?! Watch who yeh callin’ a baby, ya oversized sack o’ potatoes!†The Demo shot back, slamming his bottle down on the table. The Pyro agreed with a loud ‘Mmph’ and grabbed the cards from the center and riffled them quickly. Despite the alcohol and latex glows, the Pyro’s hands deftly shuffled and dealt the cards before clumsily knocking over its bottle, “Mahmammph.†“Will get new one, Pyro. Doktor, need drink?†Heavy rose from his seat and pointed to the Medic’s empty glass. Medic’s eyes slid lazily to Heavy as he pulled himself towards the new set of cards before him, “Nein, I should not hog all ze liquer to myself like ein schwein.†Heavy gestured broadly to the table behind him, “We have much drink left. Enough for extra man.†“Aint we missing someone though? Might wanna save it for the bloke,†The Sniper asked loudly as he slapped the Scout’s hand away from his drinks a second time. “Yeh, ain’t there supposed ta be nine of us?†Demo swung his good eye around the room, counting the heads a second time. The room murmured for a moment, the men discussing the missing body. The Engineer scratched his head thoughtfully and announced to the room, “If ah remember correctly the Soldier just came in tonight. Talked to him before I came down. Ah reckon he won’t be coming to-†As though heralded by the Engineer’s doubt, the imposing form of the American appeared, slamming open the doors to the lounge, “What is the meaning of this LOUD and DISORDERLY party? Can’t a MAN get a good night’s SLEEP without some damn hooligans keeping him AWAKE!†The Soldier clomped into the room, letting the door shut behind him with a deafening bang. His eyes scanned the room beneath his low helmet, his considerable jowl stiff in irritation. Despite wearing striped pajamas, slippers, and the rounded army helm, the Soldier struck an intimidating form in the front of the room. Thunderstruck, everyone stared wildly to one another, bewildered at the Soldier’s sudden entrance. Only the Heavy was sober enough to speak coherently. Walking forward, he addressed the newcomer, “Am sorry for loud fun. We keep quiet for sleep.†The Soldier glowered at the Heavy, his eyes focused like a gun sight on the huge form. A deep scowl etched his face, “A Commie? Your accent gave you away, you Soviet bastard.†The Heavy recoiled, backing away to his seat as the Soldier continued, “Is this the kinda ilk that RED is bringin’ in! Are they tryin’ to aid the enemy?†The Engineer took the Heavy’s retreat as an opportunity to insert himself between the Soldier and the rest of the room. Putting out his arms to block the sturdy Soldier, the Engineer inched forward as though calming a wild animal, “Just relax, Soldier. I know you just flew in over night from home and you’re a tad tired. You jus’ need to rest up a smidge. We got some beer, and you can-“ “Liberty never rests, Labourer!†The Soldier pushed the Texan aside angrily, forcing the smaller man to stumble and catch his weight on the wall. “I want to know why at this god-forsaken time of night we’ve got boys’ club talking readily to a man who could easily drop the bomb on us any time he’d want!†The Soldier stopped in front of the poker table, glaring at the cards and collection of chips. The men at the table exchanged quick glances, urging one another to step up to the Soldier. Eventually all the eyes landed on the Medic who sighed heavily at the silent consensus. Aided considerably by the alcohol, the Medic pulled himself to full height and confidently spoke to the American, “Please, Herr Soldier, you can be assured zat ze, uhhh.†The Medic double checked behind him whom he was supposed to be defending and continued, “zat ze Heavy iz much unlike ze Soviets you may have seen in ze war.†The Soldier snapped mechanically towards the Medic, surprise intermixed with hatred pouring over his face. “A Kraut! What crap are they pullin’ here anyway, hirin’ a Heinie and a Russkie? Last time I saw one of your fascist friends, I was kicking their ass across France right back to Berlin where they belonged!†The Soldier spit on the floor in front of the Medic and rubbed his slipper in it, “I’m surprised the good ol’ US of A let you into an operation like this after what I saw you guys did in Poland.†Engineer gestured to the Medic and roared, “Goddamnit, Soldier, he’s our Medic! He’s not anything like that!“ “He’s our Doctor, too!†The Soldier boomed, sharply pointing to the Medic before addressing the Engineer again. “I don’t know about you, Engineer, but I don’t want no fricken’ Nazi SS Doctor touching me. Might remove my legs, replace my eyeballs, drain my bodily fluids!†The Soldier eyed the Medic harshly, his helmet casting an ominous shadow across his face, “If I see you so much as look at me twice, Fritz, I will launch your ass all the way back to Hitler’s grave and bomb the shit out of your country a second time.†Turning to the rest of the room the Soldier spoke to the room at large, “And for the rest of you maggots, I expect there to be silence or else I will stick a rocket up of each and every one of your asses!†With that, the man marched out of the room, leaving a vacuum of silence in his wake. The Medic slumped down to his chair, “Mein Gott…†Taking a shaky swig of his drink, The Medic inspected the table as he let his empty glass tip lazily in his grasp. The room was painfully quiet as those untouched by the Soldier’s tirade attempted stir up words of encouragement. The Heavy waved off any attempts and simply stared at the wall in front of him as he bent over meditatively in his seat. The Medic was equally disinterested in comfort. Any attempt at diplomacy often seemed hollow after someone brought up ugly memories of a war still fresh in his mind. It was not the first time he had heard the slurs, in fact it had become common place since his immigration to the United States. It was an inevitable price to pay for losing a war and as any grown man he learned to accept his generation’s guilt. Staring into his empty glass, the doctor softly mumbled to the Heavy beside him, “Herr Heavy, I believe I do need another, bitte.â€
“And for the rest of you maggots, I expect there to be silence or else I will stick a rocket up of each and every one of your asses!†This was the most in-character line for Soldier that I have EVER seen. Good show, good show.
I don't know where exactly this fic is heading but even after that previous chapter I'm actually secretly hoping this will be Soldier/Medic focused... Do keep it going as you have planned though, I know I'm gonna read it anyway. Soldier's patriotic tirades against his non-american comrades seems like a custom in nearly every fic, no? Still, I liked your take on it; the one where he spoke about kicking Hitler's ass back to Berlin had to be my personal favorite!
That last line was like, the perfect closing for this chapter. Impressed. I really liked this chapter except for two things: That Soldier said a couple things in a rather un-Soldier like way. He arbitrarily drops the g from the end of his words when he says, “Is this the kinda ilk that RED is bringin’ in! Are they tryin’ to aid the enemy?†I couldn't help but hear the Engineer when I read that. Also, when Soldier calls Engie "Labourer". That's Spy's word for Engineer! Soldier in pajamas and slippers is just glorious though; I want a drawing of that.
>>20 Thanks, I'm glad you liked that. I imagine Soldier as a violent George S. Patton. That line was directly inspired by him. >>21 I know what you mean. I just feel like it's hard to avoid when he's such a bleeding heart American. However, these sort of tirades won't be par for the course with him. >>22 You are right, with both points. Not sure why I thought Soldier said 'Labourer', and not sure why I dropped the G's. Looks like I'm spending some time with Soldier's in-game dialogue tonight.
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I posted the wrong version of the chapter last night, I'm a farking idiot. That was like, the 3rd draft. Pshh, I'll have the right one up in a few hours when I get home.
Lol i read the one you posted last night. It wasn't bad at all. |D me likey.
Ugh, I've worked this chapter into the ground. I am utterly unhappy with it, but I can't seem to wrap my head around doing what could possibly be the 7th or 8th pass for this draft. Also, last week my boyfriend decided he wanted to read my previous chapters, and proceeded to tell me that, ironically, my Medic was the least accurate character. Sheisse. Well, if anyone has any critique that will specifically help that, I’m all ears. I’m hoping to use my planned plot devices to explain Medic’s shift form my pussy form into the more correct, slightly mad, character. I gotta post this chapter eventually, and I've grown to hate it so much. Just take it, I'm so sorry if it's shit. ________________________________________________________________ Chapter 4 – In the Dark Despite the best efforts of the drunken mercenaries, the party could not recover from the Soldier’s visit. The damage to morale had been done. After having attempted joking around, the group inevitably lapsed into an uncomfortable silence that sank deep into their hearts. Bleary eyed, they stared off into space, chewing their lips bloody in self-reflection as the fire crackled between them. Luckily, Scout had taken the silence as an opportunity to doze off, and ripping into loud rumbling snores, he forced the other men to stir from their somber reflections. Forced back into reality, the men groggily bickered amongst themselves on who would carry the sloppy youth home. Eventually Engineer suggested the men draw straws to decide the unlucky soul and presented left over stirring sticks. After everyone grabbed and checked their straws, Sniper begrudgingly slung the drooling Scout onto his back and stomped out, swearing colorfully beneath his breath. The rest of the men soon followed, trickling one by one out into the rest of the base. Only Heavy and Engineer remained, stuck aiding the well liquored Medic out of the lounge. While the rest of the men had stopped drinking after the Soldier’s visit, Medic had redoubled his efforts, downing twice the amount of alcohol in the past hour. It was only when the alcohol was removed that the Medic ceased drinking and sat himself with a full glass of water by the fire. As the rest of the men had carried on arguing over Scout, Medic had ignored them, smiling wistfully to his inner thoughts as he stared at the flames. “Is Doktor all right?†Heavy questioned, lending out a hand for Medic to grab. Ignoring Heavy’s palm, Medic rose from his seat unaided. For a second he appeared balanced, rocking slightly in his boots, but this soon dissolved as Medic stumbled slightly and grabbed hold of Heavy’s shoulder. Flustered by his state, Medic tried to compose himself and patted the Heavy’s hand while chuckling, “Ja, Herr. I am no more zan a little bit inebriated. Vhy I am certain I vill be fine within ze hour.†To prove his point, Medic let go of his crutch and staggered forward a couple short steps, only to stop once again just a few feet away from his starting point. For a good moment he studied his feet as though remembering their purpose, and then set off, swaying out the doors as if riding a boat at sea. Pausing briefly in the hallway, Medic, satisfied with his progress, called back to Heavy, “See, I am fine! Zhis iz nuzzing zhat a night of sleep or a trip to respawn cannot cure!†Glancing at the frowning Heavy, Engineer shrugged and stumbled after the Medic, attempting to catch up the older man. As the two men turned the corner, Heavy shook his head and muttered to himself in Russian, walking away steadily to his own room. Reaching the doctor in the hallway, Engineer looped his arm around the Medic and asked brightly, “Ya have a good night, Doc?†“Despite zat dumkopf soldat, yes,†Medic tilted his head to his partner, smiling broadly. “I vish to thank you for inviting me tonight. It vas much more exciting zan I thought it would be.“ “It’s no problem, Doc, it was nice having you around,†Engineer gave a wide smile to the Medic before catching himself swaying into a wall. “Ah, whoops there, looks like you ain’t the only one who had too much. I’m weaving like a damn sewing needle through cloth.†Chuckling to himself, the Engineer guided them around the corner towards the Medic’s room. The stretch of the hallway leading to the infirmary alone took half an hour. Joking, laughing, and carrying on, the men continued the party far beyond the confines of the lounge. Several times the two stopped, occasionally to recover their bearings, sometimes for Medic to inspect the Engineer for alcohol poisoning. Each attempt by Medic was met with playful banter and light slaps from Engineer, followed by both lapsing into a short fit of laughter in the middle of the walkway. Eventually as the caught their breath, they would lock arms again to walk together towards the end of the hallway. As the men approached the Medic’s infirmary, giggling and stumbling into walls, the doctor realized that the night was rapidly coming to a close. Soon he would be laying beneath the freezing covers alone, the warmth and kindness of the Engineer far away from his room. Heart aching, Medic hung his head onto the Engineer’s shoulder, absorbing the last of the man’s touch before bed. This would have to last him the night. Upon reaching the Medic’s room, Engineer placed the Medic against the wall and struggled with the infirmary door. He pulled it several times, jiggling the door noisily against its locks and hinges. After a few moments the Engineer placed his head dejectedly on the door and began cursing the “dadgum locks†and “poor Yankee workmanship†that created the faulty door. Seeing his partner give up, Medic beckoned the Engineer aside and pushed the doors open with ease. Medic then grabbed the Engineer’s hand and led the embarrassed worker into the dark medicine bay. Entering the bay, the Engineer began to feel about the wall. “Now where’s that switch,†he asked himself, looking about the dark for the room’s light switch. Cracking the door back open, he used the frail sliver of light in an effort to find the panel. The Medic stood behind the Engineer, merely watching, as a crude thought floated to the top of his flooded brain. At first he at attempted to shake it off, his nerves dismissing it as foolish, but it persisted like an itch in his mind. Trying to control himself, he paced behind the Engineer as the other man searched around blindly. It wasn’t working; His imagination was chugging away, creating more graphic thoughts. Rubbing his head, the doctor desperately searched the room for something else to occupy his mind but nothing could be seen in the dark. “Here’s where the dang thing shoulda been…†The Engineer muttered to himself. He angled his head slightly to the Medic, “Ya gonna need help gettin’ to bed?†Medic stopped his movement and stared at the figure by the door. His subconscious had latched onto the innuendo and was refusing to let go. With his self-control dissolving at last, Medic threw caution to the wind and approached the Engineer. Silently stepping forward the Medic leaned into the Engineer’s back, his arms draping over the man’s shoulders, “Why yes, Herr, I do need some help in bed.†The Engineer’s spine shot straight as Medic began to nibble his earlobe. “Doc, I-I- We-,†The Engineer stuttered inane syllables to himself as he grew warm beneath the Medic’s probing touch. Ignoring Engineer’s protests, the Medic continued, getting lost in the other man’s musky scent that filled his nostrils. At first he kissed lightly, letting his lips graze the back of the Engineer’s ear. Then the Medic grew bolder, sliding along the Engineer’s neck, sucking and nipping, leaving a trail of red graffiti upon the Engineer’s skin. His finger tips trailed down the Engineer’s stomach, finally finding the pants button. There he toyed with the metal piece between his thumb and forefinger, tickling it like a suggestion. With shallow breaths, the Engineer spun around to face his seducer. The Medic backed away slightly, yet leered all the same, undressing the Engineer in his mind. It was quickly obvious to the Texan that he was playing a dangerous game with the German. To continue was a risky gamble, but he was sure if things went too far he could easily overpower the weaker Medic. Giving the doctor a once over, the Engineer cocked his eyebrows coquettishly and elected to play with fire. “Well then Doc,†Engineer lowered his voice and approached the Medic, “jus’ say what you need me to do.†Medic slammed the door shut with the Engineer’s body, pinning him against the metal. Meeting the man’s ear with his lips, Medic growled, “I need you to moan, Herr.†With this he pushed his knee into the Engineer’s growing bulge, watching with hungry eyes as the Engineer twisted beneath his grasp. The Engineer gasped slightly and bucked into the Medic’s body like a wild bull. Quickly regaining control of his senses, the Engineer tossed a coy eye up to Medic, “That all you got, Doc? I’m hardly breakin’ a sweat here.†Medic let his fingers snap open the Engineer’s pants as he purred, “Are you sure you want it all, Herr Engineer.†“Give it to me, Tex,†Engineer smiled devilishly as her goaded the Medic on. Rutting into the Engineer’s body, Medic leaned in close to the Engineer’s ear and moaned, “I hope you vill not come to regret zis.†Pulling back, he ran a finger down the Engineer’s broad chest, feeling the skin bend and spring to his pressure. Medic chuckled to himself darkly. There was so much he could do to this man, now that he had permission. The possibilities were overwhelming. Moving his hands with the grace and finesse of a surgeon, Medic explored the Engineer with exacting yet aggressive precision. He began by teasing the Engineer, sliding his hand down to touch the Engineer’s bulging crotch, yet stopped short at the pants line to elicit a shuttering groan from Engineer. Medic closed his eyes blissfully; It was music to his ears. Carefully, Medic’s palms glided down the man’s chest, undoing the buttons to unleash a forest of blonde hair, while he bent in to kiss the Engineer’s neck. “D-Doc… Damn…†The Engineer gasped as Medic devoured him. He could feel the wet suction, the small bruises forming underneath his skin, the Medic’s curiously soft lips. Unable to contain himself, Engineer copped a feel, rubbing the Medic deep in the thigh. Medic’s heart rate sky rocketed - he choked out a moan that sunk deep into his throat while he pressed into the Engineer’s palm. A sudden cold breeze whipped the Engineer from his daze. Startled, he pushed the Medic away from him, breaking their kiss with an awkwardly loud pop. Panting and sweating, he stood with a large bulge pushing against the fabric of his rosy red briefs. “Sorry, Ah just…†Catching his breath, Engineer surveyed the situation. While he was down to just his underwear, the Medic was, while certainly disheveled, still dressed. Smirking, the Engineer kicked his pants out from under him, “Damn, you work fast, Doc. Aint even been here for a minute and you’ve got me down to my bottoms.†“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself, Herr.“ A lewd smile crept across the Medic’s face as his eyes trailed down the Engineer’s form and rested at the large erection in the man’s underwear. “I can get quite carried away at times.†“Oh no no, Doc, I’m impressed.†The Engineer chuckled and stumbled forward. “Jesus, you got my pants and shirt off without me even knowing it.†He picked up his shirt from the ground and tossed it over next to his pants. “At the rate you’ve got me going, I’ll be down and out before you’ve even broken a sweat. I want you to enjoy this too.†“Don’t vorry, Herr,†Medic purred, pushing back into his partner. “I am enjoying zhis more zhan you know.†With that, Medic captured the Engineer by the wrist and pulled him towards the bed. With a soft ‘thwump’, the Engineer landed on his back as Medic towered over him, a great shadow in the night. Medic’s glasses glistened in the moonlight, glinting dangerously as he scanned the splayed out on the bed before him, like a sacrifice on an altar. Engineer propped himself up to touch the doctor, however a hand snaked out from the Medic to slap it lightly. Once the limb slipped back, a button snapped and the shadow began to strip. The shirt dropped first, revealing a trim waist and broad shoulders that cut the darkness like a knife. Next were the pants, which fell with a soft plop and the metallic clatter of a belt. Finally, the glasses disappeared, flicked off with a flash of light. Engineer moaned as Medic descended upon him, kissing up his legs feverishly, drawing closer and closer to his crotch. Yet as soon as Medic reached there, he stopped and leaned back, running a finger over the bulge in Engineer’s briefs. A sizeable spot had formed, dark and wet on the red fabric. Medic touched it and cooed, “Mein geiler bock.†The Engineer was firmly under his control. Medic nudged the offending underwear down, following its retreat with hungry kisses. When the Engineer’s cock popped out and stood erect in front of him, Medic kissed around it, grazing the base with his lips. Patiently he listened for a response: a grunt, a moan, anything to reveal what the Engineer was feeling. Nothing came. Frowning to himself in disappointment, Medic bent in and slid his tongue up the Engineer’s dick. When he arrived at the top, he sucked the tip, licking the precum up happily. Engineer moaned and pushed into the Medic’s mouth, but Medic forced him back down, pushing his hips into the mattress. Medic grinned around the Engineer’s cock and continued, sucking off the Engineer sloppily so spit ran down the shaft. As Engineer rasped for Medic to speed up, Medic slowed instead, sucking deeper and deliberately, drawing more and more of the Engineer’s length into his mouth. Engineer moaned and restrained himself from pushing himself into Medic’s mouth. But the feeling was becoming too much. Engineer’s body tightened, preparing to release. Sensing Engineer’s coming orgasm, Medic stopped, pulling off his mouth with a wet pop. Engineer sat still, his muscle tense in a restrained thrust, slick sweat glistening on his skin. The frosty Coldfront air soon enveloped him as the Medic’s spit cooled uncomfortably on his dick. After a few seconds, he went slack and moaned, “What’d you go an’ stop for, Doc? I’m so close I could hit it with a tire iron.†The Medic gave a devilish grin, “I know.†“Well why stop then?†Engineer asked, lifting his head to look at the doctor. Medic didn’t answer. Instead he simply observed Engineer’s confusion, smiling wickedly in amusement. Frustrated by Medic’s silence, Engineer moved his hand down to his waist to finish off his aching erection. Suddenly Medic jumped up and grasped his wrists painfully, and slamming them into the bed. Engineer tried uselessly to lift his hands, but couldn’t. He had underestimated the Medic’s strength. “What in Sam Hill are you doin’, Doc?†Engineer growled. The diabolical smile on Medic’s face expanded into a full half-moon, “I did not give you permission to touch yourself.†Engineer’s face went blank. “What?†“If you vant to finish you have to beg, Herr.†“Ahm not about to beg for somethin’ ah do every day, Doc.†Medic clicked his tongue, “Zhen you do not get to finish.†A sharp look of panic crossed Engineer’s eyes, “Aw come on, Doc. Don’t do this.†Again the Medic was quiet. Engineer began to glance around wildly, “Well you can’t just up an’ leave me like this.†It was becoming obvious to Engineer that Medic could, and would, in fact, leave him like that. He tried again to wiggle out of the Medic’s hands, but the grip tightened, stifling any further movement. It finally dawned on Engineer what game Medic was playing. Being a smart mouth wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He had to beg. “Please, Doc, just finish me off.†Engineer gasped, letting his desperation show. Medic cocked an eyebrow towards the Engineer, “What vas zat, Herr? I could not hear you.†Engineer swallowed hard and wheezed, “Doc, please, just touch me. Ah can’t stand this.†Medic tossed his head back and forth, considering his options. Sensing Medic’s indecision, Engineer cried out anxiously, “Doc, for the love of God, please!†Pleased, Medic leaned back to sit between Engineer’s leg and grasped their erections together. Staring at Engineer, Medic began to pump, sliding his palms over their shafts. Simultaneously they groaned, pleasure beating like waves across their bodies. Medic’s eyes fluttered shut as his head fell back. It had been too long since he had felt like this. Panting heavily, he kept moving, speeding up as his mind filled with white noise that drowned out every other thought. “Kommen,†Medic whispered aggressively, rubbing hard along their lengths. He was careening towards the edge, rapidly losing control of his senses. He had to stay focused on finishing Engineer first. Desperate, Medic slapped him hard in the ass and commanded, “Kommen, der Hinterlader!†Obeying, the Engineer came, sending his semen splashing between the two men. Smiling, Medic let himself go. Bending into the Engineer’s neck, Medic came forcefully, coating the Engineer as he bit deep into the man’s shoulder. Gasping, Medic collapsed into the Engineer chest, sheets sticking to their slick bodies. The room went quiet as men breathed heavily, body’s heaving in rhythm. After a few moments, Medic slipped off and laid down next to Engineer. The Texan was positively at peace, his characteristic smile glowing in the dark. “Herr, vas gutt?†Medic asked tentatively. He pulled the sheets over his body, hiding himself from the cold air as he waited for Engineer to reply. When no response came, he glanced over to see the Texan sound asleep. Despite having only finished merely moments before, the Engineer was already unconscious. Satisfied with himself, Medic chuckled and stared quietly at the ceiling, cum laying like a medal on his chest. There was no denying it; Even though the Medic had not slept with a man for over a decade, he still had it in him. Closing his eyes, a small grin spread across the Medic’s face as he sunk into warm dreams far away from the cold.
Glorious. Drunk Medic made me very happy, but that just- wh- you- Glorious.
Good lord, that's the second time I posted the wrong version. I need to just junk my rejects so I don't do it again. I had wanted to tag this to the end of chapter 4, but it felt inappropriate considering the mood. ___________________________________________________________ An Interlude The next morning came on quietly, crawling in from the high medical bay windows and slipping onto the floor. With soft snores, Medic sniffed in his bed with his white comforter tightly wrapped around him. Underneath a blanket in the corner his doves gossiped amongst themselves in soft coos, daylight unknown to their covered eyes. With a loud snort, Medic rolled over into the pool of sunlight on his bed. The sun pried at the Medic’s eyelids, causing him scoot away, squinting his eyes irritably. Finally woken by the sunlight, Medic groaned to himself and massaged the blunt painful pounding of his skull. Clutching his head, Medic slumped out of bed and meandered to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, he made his way to the sink and threw the medicine cabinet open looking for pills. Coming upon the desired bottle, he filled a glass of water and sat on the toilet while popping small blue capsules into his mouth. His tongue was dry and sour, parched beyond belief. Groaning he lifted himself forward to refill his glass and then plopped hard back down onto the pot. As he leaned on the ceramic, he spied himself in the mirror. A large red hicky stood out on his neck. Confused, he inspected it. That was not there the night before. Suddenly everything came flooding back to him. He had slept with the Engineer. A dark panic wracked him as he slid out from the bathroom to look at his bedroom. His bed was empty. The Engineer was gone. All that remained was a small slip of paper, folded and set atop the pillow. Medic raced up and unfolded the letter. Meet me in my workshop tonight after dinner. Medic crumpled the paper and threw it aside, letting it bounce off his desk onto the floor. “Sheisse,†Medic rounded to his side of the bed and sat down, the mattress bowing to his body. Two long legs hung off the bed in front of him, however his eyes trailed off into thoughts unseen. There was no way this was good. Had it been ok, he wouldn’t be alone this morning. Instead he had a vague and curt note scribbled by the most direct and warm man he had ever met. Before letting his panic consume him, the Medic laid down on his back, checking his pulse and calming himself down. There was no need to worry just yet. At least there was a note. It would have been worse had the Engineer slid out of the room without even leaving a trace of himself. He was decent enough to leave a letter, something acknowledging the night had at least occurred. Medic rolled to his side towards the empty expanse of blankets. He would need to think about it later. For now his mind was drumming away with a hangover that only rest could cure. ___________________________________________________________________________________’ Waking up in the chilly afternoon, Medic went about business nonchalantly. It was only in the small movements that his nerves were betrayed: the scratch in his journal, the caress of a dove, the turn of a page. When not under intense scrutiny, or the effects of alcohol for that matter, Medic could carry-on as though nothing phased him. In the war time he would often work through air raids, operating on boys fresh in from the front. Being in the firing lane of a bomber while removing a bullet from an obscenity yelling soldier would send most doctors off the deep end, but the Medic continued on – delicately, unconcerned, still consumed in his work. Deep down, however, he was reeling, his mind spinning, concocting scenarios ranging from bleak rejection to a joyous reunion. He could hardly remember the night that had taken his place, but the scratches on his back told a different story. It was the only proof something had occurred, something that the genteel Engineer was very anxious to speak about. Medic scratched his head and paused his writing, perhaps thinking on his notes, perhaps worrying. But looking at the man, it was impossible to know. He was carrying on all the same, lifting a bird on his gloved fingertip, petting it fondly with his hands. After considerable time working in the bay, Medic’s stomach twinged and he glanced up to his clock upon the wall. Already moonlight was splashing across its face, brightening the dark arms which showed 6:30pm. Packing up his papers and switching off his desk lamp, Medic rose from his desk and walked out to the cafeteria. No need to face the Engineer on an empty stomach.
I'm pretty sure I'm the reason the chan keeps going down. Every time I have tried to post this all week, the chan crashes. Maybe it's a sign I should stop writing? Anyway - Comments are always welcome. Honestly, I'll be blunt and say I feed off of any comment, even if it's ragingly negative. Better to be hated than ignored, as Oscar Wilde would say. ___________________________________ Chapter 5: Complications Walking into the dining hall, Medic was met with the amused stare of the Scout, “Just wake up, doc? You were fricken’ sloshed last night, man! I’m surprised you didn’t throw up!†Medic cocked his eyebrows towards the Scout, debating whether he should respond. He still certainly had a headache, so he decided it was best not to engage the youth in a heated debate on his sobriety. “You are not one to talk, Scout.†Spy sat across from the boy and took a long sip of some tea, putting out his cigarette on his plate. “Watcha mean? I’ve been up since noon, man. That alcohol hardly touched me!†Scout boasted, hitting his chest with bravado. Demo gave a loud snort and started laughing, “’Ardly touched you, lad? You were out cold before te’ party even ended! I’m surprised you remembered it ‘appened at all!†Scout scrunched his face and spat back, sending flecks of food onto the table, “I do freakin’ remember, One-eyed!†Spy grinned and challenged the Yank, “Then ‘oo won poker, Scout?†Scout sputtered for a moment and thought. The rest of the table watched expectantly. When Scout swallowed, he poked his fork towards the Spy, “Medic. He freakin’ mopped the place up last night. Made you guys look like dopes.†Demo nearly inhaled his drink while Spy started laughing. Scout frowned, “What?†“I can assure you, Scout. I did quite ze opposite of ‘mop up’ last night,†Medic sat down next to the Scout, having collected a well cooked steak and a large helping of potatoes. “Whatever, man. At least I didn’t make a fool of myself.†Scout sunk into his plate and violently stabbed a slice of steak. “That reminds me, Scout. You should thank the Snipah for carrying you back last night. You were quite the mess, what with the drool and vomit.†Spy smirked with a newly lit cigarette in his mouth. Sniper also sat at the long metallic table but was thoroughly disinterested in the conversation. Instead, he was pushing around the steak and mashed potatoes as he read his newspaper. Unlike last night, he was not wearing his aviators, and for the first time Medic could see the weathered eyes of a man who had spent much of his life outside. Scout choked on his steak, “What?†Finally getting it down, he dropped his fork. “I definitely did not freakin drool or throw up, Frenchie. Right, Snipes?†Sniper drew a dreary gaze from his paper and rubbed his eyelids, “Sorry to say you did, mate. You were a right mess when I got ya to your room last night.†Turning back to his paper, he flattened out a slightly crumpled section and continued, “Had to clean you up in the showers. Just didn’t feel right laying you down in your own vomit.†Scout’s jaw hung slack, his eyes wide. It appeared that Medic was not the only one who didn’t remember the majority of the night. “Well, ya didn’t have ta, ya know, uh.†Scout searched for the right words, as he made motions as if pulling off clothing. “Undress ya? How else was I gonna clean ya off, â€Sniper stated bluntly, unconcerned with having seen Scout naked. However, Scout seemed positively overwhelmed and started cleaning up his plate, “Ya gotta be fricken, I can’t believe… Goddmanit. You fuckin’… Augh.†Meanwhile Spy was laughing to himself, clasping his palm over his eyes, “You didn’t tell me that part! Tell me, is everything to size with his short stature?†Scout bristled and hissed through gritted teeth, “Shut the hell up!†“Yes, tell meh, Snipah! Is the boy’s big talk compensating for his little man!†Demo roared hard, pounding the table with his fist. Scout had had enough. He left the table in a huff, red with embarrassment, leaving his dirty plates in a lopsided pile. As the other continued laughing amongst themselves, Medic finished his food and prepared to walk to the Engineer’s workshop. While it was tempting to avoid the Engineer all together, it was inevitable that they’d have to talk. Heaving a deep sigh, Medic straightened himself up and made his way to the workshop. The walk was far from pleasant. With every step, new scenarios of increasing severity popped into Medic’s mind. By the time he had stopped in front of the workshop doors, Medic was sweating, having conceived a nightmare where Engineer turned him away cold-heartedly, with no interest to even remain friends. Medic pulled himself together and let his demeanor fall into place. With the meeting only seconds away, it was important to seem collected rather than trembling like a beaten dog. Pushing the door open, the Medic strode into the workshop without even a stitch of nerves showing in his demeanor. The Engineer was bent over a dispenser assembly, his goggles strapped over his eyes as he welded the red metallic top together. His hat was dangling on the side of the contraption, swinging idly as the Engineer bumped into the machine. Fully engrossed in his work, he was unaware of the Medic as the man walked in. In comparison to the dirty, oil covered Engineer, the Medic was clean without even a speck of dust. Had some onlooker seen them meet, they would assume the Medic had walked in simply to discuss business with a coworker. In the corner of the workshop, near the garage for load out, stood a whirring sentry that followed the Medic as he walked into the room. It blinked almost inquisitively and spun its rotors to create a sharp clicking noise akin to the dry fire of a machine gun. Unmoved, the Medic merely stared it down, unwilling to let a robotic toy intimidate him. If it weren’t for its desire to kill him, the small machine could almost be called adorable. Noticing the new figure in the room, the Engineer stopped his blow torch and slid his goggles up onto his forehead, “Ah, hey.†The Engineer fidgeted nervously while he wiped off his grease covered hands. Laying the rag down, he leaned back on the workbench and pointed to the sentry, “Ignore ol’ Bessie there. She’s just a prototype, can’t hurt a fly. Hell, she couldn’t shoot a thing if you loaded her. Feed belt never worked right on that one.†Medic crouched in front of the gun which beeped aggressively as he approached, “Fascinating, it’s almost as though it were alive.†He brushed the top of the gun’s casing, which caused the sentry to siren. Medic cocked his eyebrow and glanced over to the Engineer. “Eh, she’s a tad temperamental.†The Engineer folded his arms and smirked to himself, “Kinda reminds me of my ex-wife.†Both men stared at the sentry, unwilling to address the elephant in the room. Instead they commented on some of the Engineer’s inventions that were splayed around the room, keeping their eyes far from the one another. Occasionally they would lapse into awkward silences, where in the Engineer would fidget with his tools and Medic would stare at the cocked metal legs of the sentry. Eventually Medic decided to end the stalemate. Steadying himself in his crouch and summoning his most confident voice, he looked up to the Engineer, “Ve know I am not here to talk about your machines, Herr. Vhat do you need to talk about ?†Engineer refused to meet eye contact, and instead inspected the tools on his wall, “I think it might be obvious, Doc.†He pulled a wrench off and polished it. “This talk isn’t meant to be a bad thing. I just feel like we need to set some facts straight.†He set the wrench on the table and met the Doctor’s eyes, “I feel it was unprofessional how we started off.†“Zere is no arguing zhat, Herr. It indeed was, as you vould say, unprofessional.†Engineer’s chaste treatment of the matter at hand simultaneously worried and calmed the Medic: On one hand it kept the conversation unemotional, however it furthered the feeling that the amicable Engineer was distancing himself from Medic. The Engineer placed a tool back onto the wall and scratched his head, “That isn’t to say I don’t want anything like that to happen. I just don’t - †Engineer stopped abruptly, catching himself mid-thought. Apparently what he had intended to finish with did not sit well with him, and he merely mouthed like a fish for a few moments before he closed his mouth. Medic shivered uncomfortably to himself beneath his lab coat. Where could Engineer have been going with that sentence? Shaking his head, he continued as if they were in the midst of a routine interview, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand, Herr.†“Doc, you’re a nice man. I mean, heck, you’ve got a head on you that’s quicker than most other men I’ve ever worked with. But I feel like we got off like two jackrabbits in spring.†Adjusting his shirt, the Engineer continued, “I’m a man of principles, and I feel like if I’m gonna do anything, I’m going to do it right and proper. That includes in relationships. I’m not comfortable with just carrying on with a man I haven’t gotten to know. I want to understand him before I take my roll in the hay. Especially if he’s a coworker. It makes thing complicated.†Medic kept turned back to the humming sentry, maintaining a steady voice despite his shaky emotional state, “Yes, yes it does, Herr.†Medic shifted to his other leg and shined a smudge from the sentry’s casing. The machine whirred almost appreciatively. How warm the heart of this mechanical beast seemed to be in comparison to the frigid Engineer. Cleaning his throat, Medic tore his attention away from the sentry and addressed the Engineer, “So how vould you like to fix zis?†The Engineer scratched his neck and stared at the ceiling, “I reckon we make like none of this ever occurred. Ya know, make things simple.†Medic patted the tiny machine. Such a small comfort was giving him the strength to pretend this was all merely business. Pulling himself up, Medic stared the Engineer straight on, “So ve shall pretend none of zis happened. Zat is fine. Not just fine, but perfectly reasonable. †Medic ignored a sudden sharp ache in his chest. “I am quite glad ve were able to talk. Last night vas the mistake of two drunk men. Zis is fine.†Apparently Medic’s strong facade was enough, for a smile broke out on the Engineer’s face, “You have no idea how happy that makes me, Doc. Here I was thinkin’ this would be some big to-do, and it turns out you saw the whole thing like I did - just a one night stand.†Medic flinched at those words. A one night stand was far from how he had imagined it. But if it’s what the Engineer wanted it to be, he needed to play along. “Exactly vhat I thought, Herr.†Suddenly interrupting the conversation, the dispenser in front of the Engineer sparked and let out a puff of thick smoke. “Dagnabbit, I just closed the damn thing and it starts up again.†The Engineer threw down his rag and removed the back panel to reveal a colorful array of wires. “Well I’ll be damned, the circuit’s shot.†“Vill it be ready tomorrow?†Medic blurted out, grasping onto the lifeline of normalcy. “Bah, it’ll be fine. I was just a damn fool and crossed two wires,†He wiped his head with the back of his glove and snapped his goggles down. “Now I’m sorry, Doc, but I need to get on this now.†“No, I understand completely.†As the Medic walked out of the room, he glanced back to the Engineer. The man’s face was firm and intent upon his work. Already he had forgotten the Medic. Sliding into the hallway, the doctor stood outside the doors to the workshop. Holding himself straight, he gazed out the window and observed a single stray tear roll down the face of his reflection.
Aww, poor Medic. But it's not Engie's fault either. He did the best he could to let him down. I wonder if Medic feels no one could love him because he's German.
Wonderful chapter. I also agree with >>32 Please continue!
I don't think I care what happens with Medic and Engineer any more. I just want to read more about Bessie.
Please continue!
So to any anons reading this - I haven't forgotten this actually. I'll be honest as to why this hasn't been updated. I first started by getting totally antsy as all fuck over my writing, and I just really felt like it wasn't up to snuff. I'd actually wait for comments, and embarrassingly enough, I admit I had my little heart broke by not getting what I felt was enough constructive feedback. Truthfully, I don't know if I'm too proud/scared/intimidated to get a beta, but part of me just gets incredibly self-conscious when people see work that I have not put 100% of my effort into. Like, I actually get physically sick and nervous, it's a tad weird. So anyway, I got to feeling very ashamed by this piece. Enough so that I did stop coming to the chan for a bit. Really, it's hard for me to look at Marty's stuff, and still be like "Oh hey, I wrote a good piece!" I haven't done a great job. But I want to do a great job. Recently I've started to get a better grasp of Medic as a character. I've also torn out a lot of side plots that were distracting from the main push of this piece. But to improve what I will write, I need feedback on what is here. Real, biting, hard, feedback even if it's vicious, terrible, and mean. Don't tell me it's wonderful. Fuckin' give me hell. Sorry for posting without an actual written update. This is just my plea for some ass kicking so I can return to my hidey-hole and drill out a full fanfic.
It's too late at night for me to scour this for errors that warrant soul-crushing criticism, but I'll say this- I can't offer much critique on what isn't there yet. If you've taken this story and changed it since posting it (re. cutting out side-plots and getting a better grasp of medic), maybe you should be asking people to look at that? (Alternately, if you meant you've made these changes in chapters as-yet unposted, same problem- I'd have to read it before I could offer critique). The other thing I'll say is this- if by "side plots", you're referring to the brief vignettes showing what the rest of the team is doing in the background, don't cut them out. This is just my opinion, but a "Team Medic and Heavy" or "Team angsting Spy" story, where the rest of the gang is barely mentioned, is much less interesting. I prefer the ones where the main character(s) are shown interacting with the people with whom they are working and living in close- or at least the audience gets to see what the others are up to in the background while Medic sulks over his breakfast. (If you're talking about some wild tangents that hadn't yet reared their heads in this story, though, then disregard my last. Since some of what you were referring to seemed to be work you hadn't posted yet, I'm not sure what to say.)
>>37 I guess I'm asking for critique about my style? Perhaps it's because I'm the one reading it, but I feel like that it can be drastically improved. When I read through it, I think at times that things sound clunky, that a character isn't presented correctly, that I have repetitive sentence constructions, stuff like that. As silly as it sounds, I'm not really concerned about plot too much. I'm constantly sharpening it through the day to make sure it makes sense. It's not there 100%, but it's getting close. Most of my self-conscious stuff is coming from what I feel is mediocre writing style and conventions. As for what is to come, I want to refine my writing so when I start writing the fixed version I'm not anxiously bumbling around. *As for what I'm cutting - I'm not talking about the brief vignettes, actually but side plots that would have shown up later that were hinted in this stuff. When I post this again, that stuff would disappear so as to make the plot more streamlined. The vignettes would stay, they just would no longer serve to launch a side story fanfic that I had intended to write based in the same fictional universe. As terrible as it sounds, I'm actually cutting the whole engineer thing. I sat down with myself and asked "What am I trying to do with this thing?" And really, I don't know anymore. I had put it in the story initially for my old medic, and now my new Medic wouldn't do that. He'd think about it, yes, but he wouldn't drink enough in the first place to necessitate being carried home. Thanks for the fast response, btw.
Hmngh... well, looking over it, there are loads of tiny things I might have changed about the wording, but a lot of that falls into personal preference- besides, then it would start looking like my writing instead of yours, and that would be weird. The character's accents were odd in a few places; writing consistent, obvious (ie. obviously Southern, or obviously Jamaican, or obviously Irish), but clearly understandable accents in character dialogue is something I've struggled with since long before Team Fortress 2 existed. In some ways, this is also a matter of personal preference; the way some people write accents bugs me, but as long as I can look at a sentence and understand it immediately (and as long as it's not horribly garbled to the point that the character seems to be speaking in several different accents and speech impediments at once, ie. "Aww danke my dear frwend!"), I can't complain too much. I try listening to character responses when I get uncertain, and temper accented character dialogue ignoring words that would just be completely fucking muddled (ie. clothes, together, unforgivable) on a consistent, uniform basis. The bit about the single stray tear made me laugh, and probably wasn't supposed to; I would have erred on the side of describing him feeling tears threatening to come, feeling his eyes sting, or really anything. Single tears are kinda relegated to the realm of the intentionally silly. Anyhow. In conclusion, I can't suggest anything about plot yet to come, because I don't know how you've changed it. Having a coherent idea from the start about what direction you want things to go in is a good idea, though- I go through all sorts of mental revisions and I'm horribly lazy about ever writing down brainstorming lists or crap like that, but I do my best to know where I want the story to go, long before I actually get to writing the individual parts. I do waffle over a lot of things up until the point I'm writing them down (which is one of the reasons I check my story repeatedly before posting, the last thing I want is to have to retcon something major, or forget important plot points weeks after I started and look foolish because of it), but the broad direction of a story is more or less hammered out before I start adding on side-plots, extra vignettes, or incidental tangents that I thought were funny. That isn't to say I don't change things as I go along, though; sometimes a better way of getting things done occurs to me, or something just seems to fall into place over time. Well, I'm rambling. Hope this helps, anyhow.
I just found this thread and read it through. And then I read it again because I liked it so much I wanted it to be PERFECT. According to Wikipedia, I may have OCPD (like OCD, but less crippling). So enjoy the following nitpicking. (I took the precaution of saging because I'm sure nitpicking is not actually enjoyable.) And before I actually begin, I need to apologize because I cannot judge style, or characters being canon or lacking thereof. I'm just a glorified contextual spellchecker. 1) Sheisse is actually written with a c: "Scheisse". I won't go on about the usage of the German double-S since it isn't readily available on most keyboards. Chapter 1 2) "pouring over books" - to pour -> pouring; to pore -> poring. Pouring usually occurs from a bottle or jug. Chapter 2 3) "(...)to wash out the taste [*] your American piss." [*] "of", "a'", anything, really. I don't usually butt into patois, but this just needed a little something there. By the way, I love the interaction within the team in this chapter, it's just beautiful and immersive. Chapter 3 I have nothing. But it's amazing, the amount of emotions you describe crossing a man's face whose eyes are constantly covered by his helmet. But belief has been successfully suspended, it's just something that crossed my mind. Chapter 4 4) "Bleary eyed" - I believe this should be hyphenated. 5) "Eventually as the caught their breath" - obvious, really. 6) "At first he at attempted to shake it off" - one errant "at". 7) "to elicit a shuttering groan" - Cameras have shutters. I giggled, imagining a camera flapping its shutter. This should either be "shuddering" or "stuttering", and I'm in favor of the first option. 8) "Medic’s heart rate sky rocketed" - I believe there's (at least) one too many space here, but I can't quite locate it (English is not my first language). Could also need a hyphen. 9) "as he scanned the [*] splayed out [*] on the bed before him" - This needs a noun in one of the spots marked (body, form?). 10) "Engineer sat still, his *muscle* tense in a restrained thrust" - which one (giggity)? Alternatively, plural. 11) ...I am not going to comment on ass-slappee laying down on his back, apparently pinned to the bed, and ass-slapper not having space to slap dat ass. Especially since it's the chapter you worked to the ground. Nope. Totally shutting up now. 12) "The room went quiet as [*] men breathed heavily, body’s heaving in rhythm." - [*] the. And body's = single possessive; bodies = plural; bodies' = plural possessive. You're smart enough to know which one is needed here. Interlude 13) "Medic could carry-on [...]" - no need for a hyphen here. 14) "He could hardly remember the night that had taken his place [...]" - What is that "his" doing there? Chapter 5 15) “I do freakin’ remember, One-eyed!†- Either "one-eyed [noun]" or just "One-eye". 16) "While it was tempting to avoid the Engineer all together [...]" - "altogether" rather than "all together". Gotta love idiomatic languages. 17) "[...] keeping their eyes far from the one another" - errant "the" there. All of this being said, though, I like your choice of words. It's something I don't usually pay attention to, but I learned a few new ones thanks to you.
Thanks Meeqs! Believe it or not, I feel more comfortable with nitpicking than I do compliments. I can improve from nitpicking. I'm actually quite happy you took a look at this. Sorry that it took forever for me to respond. I keep forgetting that people can sage this thing. I appreciate your eye on the fine details. Have you beta'd before? It appears that my largest issue is that I miss words I should remove between drafts, such as the multiple cases where I can errant and random words.