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No. 15683
PART 21: SORROW
“Do you think he will leave?†Heavy asked.
Sniper cracked open another beer, and lounged back into Engineer’s arms. “Depends, mate. Will BLU let him go?â€
“I cannot say. The research is important. And BLU are… not so flexible. I think perhaps they will keep him here.â€
“Can’t be good for you or him, big guy,†Engineer said. “You ever think of going?â€
Heavy had considered it. For all that the situation with Medic was uncomfortable, he was torn between leaving that behind and losing his friends. He was stymied, undecided, and so the only course of action was none at all. He shrugged. “I do not know. I do not want to go.â€
They accepted that answer, and the conversation changed topic.
Engineer nuzzled the back of Sniper’s neck, and Sniper stroked his hands. They were huddled in the nest again, drinking their cares away, and since Heavy had learned of their relationship, Engineer and Sniper were more comfortable in being affectionate around him. He never minded, not really, but it made him feel like an outsider, sometimes. He envied them.
The nest was getting colder at night, under clear, moonlight skies. The warm summer was passing quickly. It wasn’t so bad, and it was certainly no Siberia, but he noticed it every time he saw Sniper and Engineer together. Heavy still enjoyed their company, of course. He was just… lonely.
His thoughts drifted to Medic again. How much had changed, since he first saw him? How much had happened? It had been six months, and it felt like an eternity, like another world. They were different people, though he still sometimes felt like he would suddenly wake up and be the person he was before.
He shook his head, and put down his empty beer bottle. The problem of how he became consumed by his own thoughts had persisted. “I think I will go to bed. It has been a long day, a long week. Goodnight, comrades.â€
He stood, and a glint of light caught his eye from the window. Heavy turned curiously, and looked out over the battlements just below the nest. The outside of the base should be deserted this late at night.
There was a figure standing at the edge of the railing. He wanted it to be someone else, but that shape would be familiar to him even without the white coat, Medipack and gun. He breathed in and out, willing his chest to cease the sudden tight feeling.
“Medic is outside,†he said, moving to the window. “Why is he there?â€
Sniper got up clumsily, and they both went to look, with the Australian staring over the head of his much shorter lover. “Is he thinkin’ of jumpin’ or something?†he asked.
“It don’t matter a damn if he does, Respawn’ll catch him,†Engineer said. “I don’t like this one bit -â€
“I must go,†Heavy said suddenly. The certainty of where he needed to be had appeared out of nowhere, but now it had solidified in his mind and nothing would stop him from going to the doctor. He left the window and almost fell over a crate in his scramble to get to the trapdoor.
“Dammit, Heavy, are you crazy?!†He missed the last of Engineer’s shout as it closed above him, and he slid down the ladder. He could move fast when he had to, when he wasn’t carrying around a weighty minigun. He ran down the corridor and up the stairs, twisting and turning; he wanted to be there already, though he had no idea of how Medic would react. The thought of the doctor throwing himself off the battlements filled him with the most awful kind of dread, despite knowing that death was not eternal for them.
The loud crack of the door to the battlements being slammed open raked across his nerves, and he instantly regretted his rush. He only came to a halt halfway through it, with one hand on the handle, as he met the doctor’s eyes.
They were twenty feet apart, and it seemed like twenty miles. Medic was standing at the railing, a piece of paper in one hand, with no coat and no tie. The strangeness of seeing him a little less than fully dressed was overshadowed by his expression; he was haunted, beaten, as if every scrap of light and meaning had vanished from the world. He could not even muster up the energy to show contempt.
Heavy closed the door, far more softly than he had opened it. Medic said nothing, and only looked back out across the battlefield again. Was this a ceasefire, between them? A tacit measure of acceptance? Heavy wasn’t sure if that was hopeful or terrifying, if Medic appeared to be so dead inside.
He gathered his courage, and set one foot in front of the other. The twenty feet became fifteen, and then ten. There he stopped, his bravery having run out. What to say, what to say… nothing seemed right. The whole situation seemed cracked and broken, a thing which should never have existed, and they were only here and now because the world itself had forgotten its own rules.
Medic broke the silence for him. “She is gone,†he said quietly. The paper rustled in his fingers. He seemed to move automatically, as if he were reading from a script and acting out a play. “Ze divorce is final. She is gone. I hoped…†He bowed his head, his eyes drooped, and a sigh escaped from his lips. “I should not have hoped zhat she vould come back. She vas alvays her own voman.â€
The finality of his words hung in the air. Heavy grieved for him, with him, and didn’t know how to tell him. Simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ was trite, meaningless, and worthless; likewise telling him that it would get better. Medic had seemed to drive himself on the weight of his anger; anger at Heavy, at Engineer, at Demo, at himself. Now even that was gone.
The doctor raised his hand, and opened his fist. His golden wedding ring shone weakly in the moonlight; the final symbol of what he had lost. His fingers closed over it again, his arm came up, and Heavy had never moved so fast in his life as he closed the last distance between them and reached out for Medic’s wrist.
“NO!†Heavy caught him before he could throw it out onto the battlefield. Medic did not resist, and perhaps was not capable of it at all. “No,†he said again, far more gently. “Do not do this. Please, do not do this.â€
He pulled Medic around to face him, away from the railing. The letter slipped to the ground. The doctor stared at him, and through him, as if he were seeing someone else. “It vas my fault,†he whispered. “All my fault. I never deserved her.â€
Heavy could say nothing in reply. This was not an act of defiance, or revenge; the look in the doctor’s eyes was that of horror, at himself, and he was so close to breaking down that even a single word would cast him over the edge. He was just a man, a beautiful, brilliant, vibrant man whose mistakes had come due at last, and it was killing him by inches.
He’d take the pain away, if he could. Heavy would have given up the world to have the old Medic back – the one who smiled, who talked excitedly about his work, who was careful and mannerly and precise. He wanted to reassure him that it would pass and he would heal, someday. Maybe if he could do that, his own heart would not hurt so much.
There were no words left. Here and now, there was only pain shared between them; pain, and loss, and grief. Anger, blame; such things faded away. Pointless, so very pointless, in the face of both their sins.
Heavy wrapped his arms around him. He had nothing else to offer, bar some kind of comfort. Maybe that would be enough to hold them both together, in lieu of words, if the doctor would let him. Medic hardly moved. He did not react as he was pulled in close. Heavy held him tightly, with one hand around his waist and the other on his shoulder, and it shocked him how cold he seemed. The doctor was so much smaller without the Medipack and without his coat.
He wanted to say everything, and nothing. The jumble of thoughts and feelings demanded to be voiced but were too messy to separate and describe. He was still trying so hard to be rational, here where rationality had no place.
Medic hardly moved, but it seemed as if he only stood because Heavy held him up. He did not even push him away, and that alone spoke of exhaustion so bone deep that he was beyond any other consideration. Whatever had driven him out to the battlements to cast away the last of his life with Ilse had faded away, leaving nothing at all; no feeling, no sense of self, no hope.
Heavy wanted to give him hope. He wanted to hold him close forever, promise him that the world would not always hurt so much, tell him…
Suddenly the jumble smoothed itself out, and the truth rose out of it and caught in his throat. He knew the words that he wanted to say, that almost demanded to be said, but he could not lay such a truth at the feet of a man in pain. It would only take a word to break Medic. He could not let it come from him.
Tell him that he is loved.
It did not burn within him, but his heart beat in time with it. It was simply knowledge, pure and certain, of love, running so deep in his mind that he could not find the end of it, or the beginning. It healed him and wounded him in equal measure, both tragedy and joy. He thought he had experienced love, that he could recognize it within himself, but the feeling that poured through his veins was far beyond that. It lived for a single smile, for a kind word, for a gentle touch, knowing that any of those would wrap him in joy; it ached, in painful and terrifying sorrow, that he could never, ever have them. It was not his friends he feared to lose, if he transferred out. He loved too much to leave, and it hurt too much to stay.
Heavy squeezed his eyes shut. There had to be a decision, a resolution. Let this past be another world, if just for a little while.
He stepped back from Medic, and opened his eyes. He took the doctor’s shoulders as gently as possible. “Someday, you will want to remember,†he said. “Do not do this now. Better to sleep, and… think. If you still feel this way tomorrow…†He lifted Medic’s hand, still closed around the ring. “…there will be many chances to throw it away.â€
Medic finally seemed to see him. Heavy smiled weakly, and sadly; he was still lost, but at least there was no more hatred in his eyes. He let his hand go, and stepped to one side. “Come inside?†he asked.
The doctor nodded. He walked, and Heavy followed; along the battlements, down into the base, and towards his room. It seemed enough simply to get him to a safe place, and Heavy was not prepared to invade his privacy. He stopped at the door, as Medic turned the handle.
“Goodnight,†he said quietly. Medic paused, but did not reply. In a moment, the door closed behind him, and Heavy was left alone in the corridor.
Let the past be another world… he was far beyond that now, in parts unknown. The storm had passed, and all was calm, and there was nothing left to do but build again. Whatever had existed between him and the doctor seemed to have been washed away. They were different people now. Not friends, and not enemies, but something closer than strangers.
He went to his room, and for once there was no mess of distracting thoughts to puzzle through. Things had been complicated, and now they were simple. Medic needed to be loved, and protected. He was capable of that much at least. The knowledge, of unrequited love, he would have to bear as best he could.
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