1 . Name: 0ArmoredSoul0 @ 2012-06-29 16:25

Not my story, but when I discovered it was only accesible via the WayBack Machine, I knew I had to bring this back.

This is a direct copy-paste, unedited and unchanged from it's original state as written by that wonderful Anon.

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ATUHOR'S NOSE:
This story was spawned due to a discussion of which TF2 character would be most likely to be a vampire. While he did not win, Medic came at a close second, so he gets the consolation prize. Since I haven't done much writing outside of lab reports for years, I would greatly appreciate any concrit you have to offer. Thank you!

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Medic walked through the still hallways of the base. The only sound was the faint clicking of his boots against the linoleum floor. He found he usually was the last of his teammates to be awake and about, yet even he had to stifle a yawn as he arrived at the door to his office. He knew he should probably just go to sleep as well, but there were a few little chores he wanted to finish up first.

He fumbled with his keys a moment before successfully unlocking the door and stepping inside. While the halls were lit with tired yellow lamps, his office, in contrast, was flooded with dark blue shadows. Silver light from the full moon streamed through the blinds of the large windows on the opposite wall. The moonlight glinted off his metal supply cabinets and the nooks in the surface of his refrigerator. The desk, examination table, and other furniture filled the room with dark shapes that were confusing to his unadjusted eyes.

As the door drifted shut behind him, Medic heard a small crinkling sound coming from near the windows. He paused and called out, "Hello?"

There was no response. Furrowing his brow, he felt around the wall for the light switch.

"Don't turn on ze lights. It's just me."

Medic dropped his arm. "Spy? Vhat are you doing in here in zuh dark?" He squinted into the dim light and took a few steps forward.

His teammate lifted his head, so his silhouetted profile was now visible in front of the windows. He seemed to be sitting on a stool. He threw back his head, his hand held up to his mouth, as if he were drinking. He was holding something that reflected the moonlight very strongly, gleaming like plastic.

Was Spy stealing medicine? Medic walked around the furniture to get a better-lit view. Spy had lowered his head and appeared to be wiping his mouth.

Medic froze. His refrigerator had seemed in low supply for weeks. He merely thought, with all the injuries, that he was using up the pouches quicker than he realized...

Spy stood up, letting the now empty blood bag fall to the floor. "I was going to borrow a few more of zose, but it'll be hard to settle for such paltry fare when presented with... something much more savory."

Medic's mind reeled with the stories his grandmother used to tell him, the tales that left him lying fearfully awake in his bed, imagining the Nachzerer were coming from the graveyards to feast upon him in the night. He had named his own weapon after the night-walker that terrified him the most, and now Medic gripped the Blutsauger and shakily aimed it at Spy.

Spy tilted his head. "You would shoot a member of your own team?"

"If you are— If you—"

Spy was coming closer. Medic tried to escape backwards, but he soon bumped against the examination table and stopped. He was becoming painfully aware of his own heart beating in his chest.

"Drop your silly weapon."

Medic's arms felt inexplicably heavy holding up the Blutsauger, and they blissfully slackened, falling to his sides, more obedient to Spy's words than to his own will. His fingers loosened, and the gun slipped through them. It clattered on the floor, yet the sound seemed muffled in Medic's ears. Spy stepped over it, closing the space between them. Medic wondered if Spy's eyes had always had that unnatural gleam...

"Your job as Medic is to ensure your teammates remain healthy and strong. Zat is all I ask of you."

The rest of the room seemed to fade away as the Medic's mind was filled with the musical sound of Spy's voice. Medic started moving as if someone else's hands were inside his gloves, deftly undoing the buttons of his coat. His eyes widened in alarm as he became aware of the extent of his body's own mutiny against him. He tried to speak, but only unintelligible syllables escaped.

"Shh," Spy breathed. He pushed him up onto the edge of the examination table and started loosening Medic's tie. Even through his gloves, his hands felt like ice against Medic's neck and chin, causing him to shiver. Spy pulled off the tie, and it slithered around Medic's throat. Soon the last of the buttons was undone, and Spy pushed all the clothes down Medic's shoulders and arms, revealing his bare chest.

Spy surveyed Medic's flesh, nostrils quivering under his mask. As he grinned, his canine teeth slid down from his gums, extending into two long, curved fangs that flashed in the moonlight. Medic trembled, but he found himself unable to protest.

Spy opened his mouth and lowered his head, pausing for a second to allow his cold breath to brush against the right side of Medic's abdomen. Then Medic felt a shock run through the entire length of his body. Every fiber of his being was aware of the intrusion of the fangs in the side of his waist. He groaned, though not exactly in pain. While acutely aware that he was being bitten, it did not hurt quite the way he had expected. He numbly tried to move his arms, and although he thought his intention was to try to push Spy away, his left arm merely flopped uselessly and came to rest on Spy's back, and his right wrist was caught in Spy's hand and held out of the way. He could no longer move; he could think of nothing but the strange sensations crackling through his torso.

A small dribble of blood leaked from around Spy's lips. Medic felt the hot bead creep down along his skin. Spy released Medic's waist from his jaw, withdrawing his fangs from his flesh, and the electricity within him died down. Spy caught the escaped drop of blood with his tongue and carefully licked the two puncture wounds. The bleeding stopped; Medic thought dimly of clotting agents.

These vague notions were driven away as Spy slid the front of his teeth against Medic's skin. With the smooth, slick surface of his fangs, Spy slowly traced along the line dividing the sides of Medic's chest. Medic's back straightened and a spasm ran through his limp arms. Spy hovered momentarily over Medic's heart, which was pounding so strongly, it might have leapt into Spy's waiting mouth.

Spy continued his route upwards, arcing to the left and placing his mouth against the top of Medic's bare shoulder. Spy's free hand wrapped around him and pressed against the small of his back. Medic felt his heart beating against Spy's chest, his warmth being leeched into Spy's cold hand. Medic's breathing was heavy. He realized that he wanted Spy to bite him again.

Spy's fangs dug into the Medic's shoulder, sinking down until they hit bone. Medic's cry was muffled against Spy's body. His entire side was obliterated, his nerves overloaded, the sensation of the fangs exaggerated to rods piercing his core. Medic's numb fingers clutched feebly at the fabric of Spy's suit. He could feel his blood leaving him, slowly being drawn into Spy. Yet he wanted it to. He wanted to pass into Spy, and this was somehow not enough. Medic tried to move again, to pull the Spy even closer, but his arm merely shuddered on Spy's back.

Spy's breathing paused, seemingly interrupted by Medic's movement. After what seemed to be a brief reflection, he pulled back his head, stroking the bite once with his tongue upon removing his fangs. The sensations were fading. Medic attempted to object, but was quieted as Spy's hand on his back slid upwards, his middle finger caressing his spine.

"You would give me more?" Spy's breath tickled his ear. Medic could smell it, sharp with the metallic tang of blood. His blood.

Spy's fingers glided over his shoulder blades and Medic lifted his head in response. Spy's left hand came to Medic's waist. "I could make do with zese small sips..." He gently pressed his palm against the first bite mark. Medic winced and turned his face away from Spy.

Spy's right hand crept up the arch of Medic's neck and cradled his tilted head.

"But if you are willing..."

"Schw," he tried to curse. Medic knew what the Spy was doing to him, and it was farcical to even suggest he consented. At the edge of his vision, he could see the playful smirk contained in Spy's glittering eyes. He knew he should try harder to resist the spell, but he could not muster the motivation to fight back. In fact, he could feel his muscles relaxing, his head lolling into the Spy's supportive hand, his neck fully exposed. He ached for Spy to bite him, to truly, deeply drink from him...

Medic closed his eyes.

The points of Spy's fangs pressed against his neck, gradually increasing in pressure until he they broke through the skin. Slowly, they slid into his flesh. Medic could almost feel them parting individual muscle fibers, sending the waves of sensations radiating away from the bite. Then, with a slight give, the fangs penetrated the wall of his jugular vein. He felt his blood gush into the Spy's mouth as a simultaneous explosion occurred in his mind.

Everything went white-hot, and his senses seemed to switch into overdrive. Medic could feel the separate pumping of his atria and ventricles, the opening and closing of valves in his heart, the rubber-like flex of his aorta in response to the changes in blood pressure. He felt cognizant of each individual blood cell squeezing through his capillaries, and he was especially aware of the blood running down his vein into Spy's eagerly sucking mouth.

Spy's fingers tightened on Medic's waist, and his focus returned to the external world. He realized he was moaning, and his arms, free of any physical restriction, were now both against Spy's back, disheveling his suit into a myriad of wrinkles. He found he was able to lift his hand; he reached up and pressed against the back of Spy's head. In response, Spy bit down harder. Two trickles of blood escaped as Spy shifted his mouth. He let them run down Medic's back, and continued to feed greedily from his neck.

Medic's mind was soon lost again in the various rhythms: his quick deep breaths, the mechanics of his heart, Spy's frequent swallowing, the pulsating heat around the fangs piercing his neck. He was content to let eons pass, just feeling the sensations of the flow of his blood, ebbing into Spy.

Medic's raised hand had gone completely numb. It cascaded down Spy's back and dropped onto the examination table. Medic vaguely realized that all of his extremities were heavy and that he was feeling a little dizzy. Yet this scarcely mattered. Spy was supporting him. Spy's left hand had already moved from his waist to his back, keeping Medic's body upright, and his right hand still held his head at the angle that provided the greatest access to his neck.

But then, Spy lowered his arms. His fangs were removed as Medic's body, a dead-weight, was eased down onto the examination table. Medic suddenly felt overwhelmingly cold. Why had Spy stopped?

"Nggg."

"You are much too generous, my dear doctor." Spy was adjusting Medic's legs so that he could lie properly on the table. "If I were to accept any more from you, you would no longer be able to fulfill your obligations to ze rest of our team."

Medic felt a rough blanket being pulled over his chilled body. The flimsy fabric provided little warmth compared to the searing heat he had experienced earlier.

"Nnn."

Spy was rearranging the blanket around Medic's arm. Medic wished he could move, so he could stop this unnecessary interruption.

"As it is, we are lucky I saved some type-O for you."

Medic felt a pinch near the inside of his elbow. With great difficulty, he lifted his eyelids just enough to see that Spy was giving him a pointless blood transfusion. Why would he need any blood? He just needed to be bitten again.

Medic tried once again to express his dissent, but Spy placed a forefinger on Medic's lips, quieting him.

"As tempting as your offer is, I am afraid I must again refuse. However, if you keep up your strength, eat your red meat, and refrain from garlic, I will gladly take you up on it in the future." Spy's face broke into a fanged grin. "In fact, it would be my pleasure."

Spy kissed the bite mark on Medic's neck. Medic's hopes momentarily soared, but suddenly Spy's entire body dissolved into mist. The eddies of fog swirled on the floor and out through the crack under the door, leaving Medic to shiver alone on the examination table. The steady flow of blood through the cannula replaced his physical deficit, but Medic could not help but feel that he was now irreparably empty.