Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Okay, okay, so it’s over, then under—“

“ Non , it is the other way around! Scout, we’ve been over this—“

“Okay, jeez , it’s just kinda tricky when you’re glarin’ at me! So as I was sayin’ , it’s under, then over… big guy goes through the loop…”

The voices wafted out of Spy’s smoking room and down the hall, causing Medic to pause outside. Perhaps he should return at another time… 

“Congratulations! It only took you twenty-seven tries, but you persevered!” Spy’s voice oozed with sarcasm.

“Ugh, why do I even— why am I putting up with this?” 

But then again, another second of listening to this saccharine squabble was going to give Medic diabetes. He knocked on the door twice.

Scout was the one who opened it, as Spy peered over his shoulder. “Medic?” The two asked in identically suspicious tones. 

Medic smiled and waved. “ Hallo , Herr Scout! May I borrow Herr Spy for a moment?”

Scout scoffed. “Yeah, Doc, you can keep him! Not like he’s helping me out at all.” He began to tug at a sloppily tied tie around his neck, while Spy watched with a look of disgust. “But what d’ya need Spy for so badly that you crawled out of your lab, anyways?”

“Whatever the doctor’s business, I’m sure it’s more important than your asinine date preparations.” 

“Hey! I’ll have you know Miss Pauling has a great ass—“

“Yes, yes,” Spy interjected with a roll of his eyes. “Now get out.” 

“I’m goin’, I’m— oh, wait, can I still borrow your suit for Saturday?”

Spy sighed. “If I say yes, will you finally leave?”

“Aw, thanks, Spy. But honestly you’re such an annoying prick you kinda owed me this—“

“Scout.”

“Right, right! See you guys at work!” Scout shot both men with finger guns before dashing out of the room with typical speed. 

Spy glided across the floor to shut the door behind Scout with a click. “Thank you for interceding, Medic. I’m afraid I would have been stuck with him for hours otherwise.” 

Medic raised an eyebrow. “Stuck… helping him prepare for a romantic outing?”

“Yes— the poor boy lacks any grace whatsoever, but at least he’s self-aware enough to know when to call in a professional. He’s finally managed to tie a tie, so at least my time wasn’t completely wasted.” Was it Medic’s imagination, or did pride briefly flit across Spy’s face? Before he could be sure, Spy turned towards the roaring fireplace. “Now, what is it that you need?”

“Well… I was wondering if you could provide some advice, actually.”

Spy tilted his head to look back at Medic, a smirk playing on his lips. “It seems my wisdom is in high demand today.” Turning on his heel, he made his way to his armchair and sat with an air of smugness. “But what sort of trouble has our Medic found himself in, that he needs advice from me? Surely you are not also trying to court a young lady…”

Medic laughed. “Goodness, no! I assure you, in that area, I need no assistance.” Ignoring Spy’s look of surprise, Medic continued. “No, no, my situation is more delicate. See, I’ve discovered–” 

Medic suddenly cut himself off. “...That is to say, let us imagine a hypothetical scenario where one member of a team discovered a secret that another was hiding. Purely a thought experiment, mind you.”

Spy snickered. “ Excellent save.”

“Right, yes… so in this hypothetical scenario, you’ve discovered a secret you are fairly certain the secret holder would not want getting out.” Despite himself, Medic began to wring his hands. “And to make matters more complicated, it has a direct effect on another team member. What… what would you do with this information?”

Spy’s eyes glittered in the firelight, like a predator poised to strike. “Hmm. A very delicate scenario, indeed. Although in my professional opinion, you have no need for concern. It is the secret keeper who should be worried, no?”

“…So you are proposing I reveal the information?”

“No, nothing so brash,” Spy said dismissively. “At least, not yet. What you have, my friend, is a weapon. You must wield it carefully to procure the best result.” To emphasize his point, Spy removed his butterfly knife from his breast pocket and began idly flipping it through his fingers. 

“...I’m not sure I understand your metaphors, mein freund. ”

Spy sighed. “Right, to the point then– are you familiar with blackmail?”

Medic felt himself stiffen with apprehension. “Ah. Truth be told, that’s what I thought you would suggest.” 

Spy merely shrugged, another thin smile sneaking onto his face. “It’s simply the most effective use of information, from a practical standpoint. Every party benefits.”

“But… Well, truth being told, I can’t think of anything I want from this person to exchange for my silence.”

“Well, so long as you have the information, you have plenty of time to think!” Spy’s knife glinted in the firelight as he began to spin it faster. “As long as you don’t get too demanding, you’ve earned yourself a free favor. Well done, Medic.” The knife flew into its handle with a snap, and Spy slipped it back into his pocket to give Medic a gentle clap. 

Medic hummed slightly. “Well, then. I suppose I should take you up on your advice.” Then, after a pregnant pause for dramatic effect: “It has come to my attention that you are Herr Scout’s father. I’ll alert you when I’ve decided what can be exchanged for my silence on the matter.”

Contrary to popular belief, Medic was not a cruel man. His true worst trait was his ambivalence, but while he rarely cared about the pain of others, he wasn’t one to enjoy suffering for suffering’s sake. But Medic couldn’t help but enjoy the way Spy’s condescending grin fell off his face, revealing first shock, then terror . “I’ll be in touch,” Medic said with a smile, turning towards the door—

But Spy was on him in an instant, pinning Medic in place with one arm twisted behind his back and something suspiciously sharp pressed against his neck. “Even if something so ludicrous were true,” Spy spat, “You are daring to try to blackmail me?”

“My apologies, but… are you certain that threatening me is the wisest choice?” Medic kept his voice light and innocent. 

Spy didn’t respond, but after a few moments the pressure released from Medic’s arm. He rubbed his now-bruised wrist before turning back to face Spy. “ Danke — now we can talk like civilized men.” 

If looks could kill, Medic would have respawned twenty times by now. “I’m assuming you have proof to back up such an absurd claim,” Spy snarled. 

“Oh, yes!” Medic confirmed. “You see, I was doing some tests on the teams’ DNA sequencing to make absolutely sure there were no negative effects from Herr Engineer’s teleporters— you remember last week when we were all convinced they were giving us tumors?” Medic asked with a small chuckle. “But in any case, the good news is that I can confirm that your DNA and RNA are both in wonderful condition! Congratulations!”

Spy did not look amused. “I don’t recall giving you permission to perform such an experiment.”

At that, Medic actually laughed out loud. “Well then, you should not leave saliva-coated cigarettes for anyone to sample from! But I believe we’ve gotten off track.” Medic’s smile faded slightly, expression turning serious. “The genetic evidence is irrefutable, I’m afraid. And even if you try to destroy the physical evidence, there’s no way to wriggle out of simply taking another test that won’t seem suspicious.”

Spy put a hand to his face, letting out a deep sigh. “Fine. Fine! I will admit that you’ve gathered quite the convincing evidence to back up your little soap opera plot twist, enough that I wouldn’t want it to be spread around regardless of its factual merit. You… have won.”

“Ah, don’t feel so bad, mein freund! I’ve outsmarted Satan himself, this isn’t exactly my first time playing mind games.”

“ …Excuse me?”

“Ach, it’s a long story. But in any event, I’ll let you know when I’ve chosen a gift!” Medic said brightly. He then turned, once again, for the door—

—And was once again interrupted, this time by a gentle yet firm grip on his arm. 

“Medic.” Spy’s voice was suddenly low, and somehow more intense without the sting of sarcasm. “I need you to take a moment to consider the consequences of your actions. I know you have little room in your heart for your teammates, but– this will not only hurt me. Scout will suffer, under this knowledge. And all for your own satisfaction.”

Medic was not a cruel man. But something about Spy’s words, and his matter-of-fact tone, made Medic taste the dark bile of rage in the back of his throat. “Hm. The way you say that, its almost as though you care for Herr Scout!”

The words hung in the air. Spy’s grip on Medic’s arm tightened, then disappeared altogether. Medic didn’t turn to face him, so he could only imagine the rage in his eyes when he finally spoke: “ Get out. ”

Chapter Text

As a healthcare professional, Medic knew the importance of three nutritional meals per day. However, staring down at his rations that afternoon, he suddenly found his appetite had disappeared. Spy’s words were still in his mind, like a pebble in his boot, or a morsel stuck in his throat. 

Perhaps predictably, the Spy had not joined the group for lunch in the mess hall. Skipping communal meals in favor of his own privately teleported fine dining was commonplace for the finicky frenchman, so only Medic noted his absence. The others were far too busy yammering about who-cares-what at unreasonably high volumes between bites of food. Loudest among them was Scout, whose cheerful shouts certainly didn’t help Medic’s appetite.

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is— all I’m sayin’ is it’s got suspense. it’s got action. It’s got humor. It’s got it all,” Scout counted each attribute off on his fingers, “So how can ya call baseball boring?”

“Suspense? That’s a funny word for the players just standin’ around on the feckin’ field for most of the game,” Demo shot back. 

“It builds tension!” Medic watched as the Scout waved his hands through the air to emphasize his point, fiery determination burning in his eyes. Would the knowledge Medic held really weigh him down to such a degree, extinguish the carefree smile that played at his lips even during this heated argument? “You know why you don’t get it? Ya don’t have taste. Ya just can’t see the intricacies of the sport.” 

This made Sniper smirk. “That’s a big word, mate, did Frenchie teach it to you?”

“Aw, shut up.” Scout shoved Sniper’s shoulder, almost knocking over his can of Bonk in the process. “So what if I’m tryin’ to be more booksmart? Maybe I’m just tired of arguing with boneheads who think baseball’s a bad sport!”

Medic sighed quietly. He’d been so caught up in the thrill of discovery he hadn’t paused to consider the potential fallout if the truth came to light… but then again, there was a very real possibility that Spy was bluffing.

“Well, if my lack of respect for bloody Freedom Cricket makes me tasteless, I think I can live with that.”

From the other end of the table, Pyro nudged Engineer to steal his attention from a crinkled blueprint he was reviewing. Then, staring directly at Sniper, they signed something Medic didn’t understand. 

Engineer took a slow sip of his coffee, before delivering his line in perfect, impartial deadpan: “Firebug says ‘And what would someone who drinks their own piss know about taste?’” 

“Oh, real mature,” Sniper snaps back while the other mercs explode with laughter. 

Scout’s cackles are by far the loudest, and he seemed to equate the insult with argumentative power. “See, Py gets it!” He leaned across the table to high-five Pyro, forcing Demo to lean out of his way.

Medic grit his teeth in frustration. If only there was a way to ask Scout, receive his information straight from the source. But how could he possibly phrase such a question without raising alarm bells? The answer was so tantalizingly close, yet definitively unreachable. It was maddening.

“Ah, the only reason ol’ Spitfire’s backing you up is because they’re your best mate!” Demo complained, taking a swig of scrumpy to accentuate his point. “Deep down, they know it’s barely a sport.”

Pyro put a hand to their chest in exaggerated offense, before rapidly beginning to sign. Engie began to translate, but Medic wasn’t paying attention. An idea had just appeared in his mind like a lightbulb– or, more aptly, the flickering flame of a candle. 

-

For such a mysterious mercenary, Medic expected the door to Pyro’s room to be locked. Instead, it swung open with an ominous creak as soon as he knocked. “Ah! Sorry to intrude!”

Pyro was sitting on their bed with their legs crossed, hunched over a sketchpad and surrounded by crayons. They hummed a bit and waved Medic inside, then went back to coloring.

“Danke, danke…” Medic inched into the room, which had been painted pastels in a move that was probably not supported by their employers. Despite the plushies that littered the floor and whimsical art covering the walls, Medic felt a twinge of discomfort in his gut. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I was wondering if you had a moment to chat? I have a question regarding Herr Scout.”

 Pyro paused, then flipped a page over in their sketchbook. “Fun conversation, or important conversation?” They wrote in red crayon, dotting each ‘i’ with a heart.

“Hm. More on the serious side, I suppose…”

“Well then, if you don’t mind,” Pyro wrote back, “I don’t want to have it with crayons.” Without further explanation, Pyro hopped off their bed and walked out the door, tugging at Medic’s hand to signal he should follow. 

Medic followed Pyro’s lead through the halls of the RED base, until the familiar smell of motor oil and metal cued him into where they were going. “Oh, you are wanting Herr Engineer to serve as a translator!” 

Pyro nodded enthusiastically, giving Medic’s hand an affirmative squeeze. With their other hand, they pushed open the double doors that lead to the Engineer's workshop. Medic was instantly accosted by a wave of country music that blared from Engineer’s radio. Pyro didn’t seem bothered by the noise, instead moving towards the Engineer himself and giving him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

Engineer bolted upright, revealing the project he was hunched over was none other than his metallic arm. Medic smiled slightly, remembering how the pair collaborated on its initial creation. “Hallo, Herr Engineer!”

“Well, if it ain’t Firebug and Frankenstien!” Engineer smiled, using his one remaining hand to spin his chair around and face the pair. “What brings the both of you down here at the same time?” 

Pyro quickly signed what Medic assumed was an explanation.

“Ah, sure! I’m just doin’ routine maintenance on Gunslinger, nothin’ I can’t put off for a quick chat.” Engineer stood up and stretched, his back crackling like popcorn kernels as he did. “I’m probably overdue for a break, anyhow.”

Engineer pulled a few stools out from under a worktable, arranging two side-by-side and one across from both. Pyro scampered to their stool and immediately began spinning in theirs, while Medic gently sat on his own. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but at least it was sturdy. 

“Now I know it’s a tad awkward at first, but just pretend like I’m not here,” Engineer told Medic. 

Medic nodded, before facing a still-spinning Pyro. The discomfort that had been settling into his gut flared up, but he tried to shove it aside. “So… as I said before, I wanted to ask you about Scout. You seem to be his best friend on this base, so I assume you’ll know more about him than I do.”

Pyro stopped themself from spinning abruptly, causing the stool to wobble in place. They quickly began signing, and Engineer translated: “Oh, yeah! That’s kinda out of nowhere though, why do you want to know about Scout? Is he sick or something?”

“Ah, no! I mean, he is fine. I just… realized recently that I am not so familiar with certain members of this team, especially considering how long we’ve worked together.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie.

Pyro stared at Medic for a while, unreadable behind their mask. Finally, they signed something, and Medic’s breath caught in his throat. What if they didn’t believe him– would he be forced to give up the secret?

“That makes sense! I’d be happy to help you out!”

Medic exhaled. “Alright, good… so Scout is—”

“He’s a wonderful friend!” Pyro signed. “He’s really funny, and also much smarter than people think. And super caring, too— he’s actually learning ASL so we can talk more, isn’t that great?” Medic had no way of knowing, of course, but that last comment felt as though it was delivered with a pointed look. 

“Would you say he’s… resilient?” Medic asked in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track.

“Totally! He told me once his pain tolerance is super high because of all the roughhousing he did as a kid, and I’m not super sure if that’s how that works but— hey actually, you’d know if that’s how it works, Medic! Is that how it works?”

Medic blinked. Maybe everything he said about not knowing his teammates had some merit; he had no clue Pyro was such a chatterbox. Perhaps why they get along so well with Scout… “Well, the body can grow less responsive to pain over a long period of time, yes. Though when I asked, I was thinking more of emotional resilience.”

Pyro tilted their head to one side. “...Huh? Are you worried about his mental health?”

“Well…” Medic sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I suppose I was just curious how he might handle, say, some shocking news, should any arise!”

“Shocking news? Like, bad shocking news?” After they finished signing, Pyro began to wring their hands nervously. 

Medic tried to laugh casually. “There is no need to be so concerned, Pyro. My questions are merely hypothetical.”

“Oh. Okay.” Pyro relaxed a little. “Well, I think he’d be upset at first, right? Because that’s how anyone would react, obviously. But after a while I think he’d be okay! Probably? Well, it’s kind of hard for me to imagine how he’d react without knowing what the news is, so do you have an example?”

“Well…” Medic rubbed the back of his neck. This was an excellent opportunity to get a read on his specific situation, but he couldn’t afford to be too obvious… “Perhaps it’s something concerning a relative. His father, for example.”

Pyro suddenly stiffened, and even the impartial Engineer sucked in a pained breath. “You really don’t know anything about Scout, Medic.” Pyro signed. “His father is terrible! He abandoned Scout and his mom when Scout was just a kid! And he makes him cry at night! I hate him!”

After repeating what Pyro said, Engineer put a hand on their shoulder. “We’re getting a touch personal here now… I’m not sure Scout would want you sharin’ all that.”

Pyro seemed to sag a bit, and signed what Medic assumed was an apology at Engineer. Then, turning back to Medic, they continued: “But if Scout heard bad news involving his father, he’d probably celebrate! And I would join him! It would be fun!”

Medic sighed. “So if Scout did learn the identity of his father after all these years— and, let’s say for the sake of our little game, it was someone he already knew— he would be quite upset.”

Pyro started signing right away, but Engineer paused. “…Did Pyro overshare again?” Medic asked when the translation didn’t come.

“Hm? Oh, nah, just got distracted thinkin’. Sorry, Firebug.” Engineer nodded to Pyro, who crossed their arms in overexaggerated annoyance. 

“As I was saying,” Pyro signed, “I think Scout would be really mad. And probably he would take some time off to kill him, or something. That’s what I would do, anyway!”

Medic tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. It seemed Scout’s issues surrounding his father ran deep. Maybe Spy was right…

“Was there anything else you wanted to know?” Pyro signed. “I could tell you about his favorite baseball team, I know a lot about them because he talks about them all the time!”

“That won’t be necessary,” Medic responded. “I just had… one more question. Unrelated to everything else.”

“Shoot!”

“If… if you knew a secret, and it had to do with a friend of yours, but the information would hurt your friend… would you share it anyway?”

“…No.” Pyro’s expression was still painfully unreadable behined their mask, but their signing was suddenly slow and serious. “I don’t want to hurt my friends.” 

“I see.”

“Besides,” Pyro finished, a bit quicker. “Reality’s kinda overrated, in my personal opinion!” They made a noise then that Medic was reasonably sure was laughter.

Medic smiled along as he stood up. “Well! This was very informative, but I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Danke, Pyro— and you too, Herr Engineer!” 

Pyro saluted, then immediately began to spin around on their stool again. Engineer, however, seemed lost in thought. “…No problem, Medic,” he finally said after a long pause.

With a final cordial bow, Medic left Engineer’s workshop with his mind racing. It seemed he had a lot more to consider, now— this wasn’t the juicy bit of family drama he had first assumed it was. Whatever his next move, he would have to tread carefully—

Medic’s thoughts were suddenly cut off by a loud grumbling from his abdominal religion as his stomach berated him for skipping lunch. Maybe the best next step was a good dinner. 

Chapter Text

The gentle cooing of doves was almost enough to make Medic forget his predicament. Sure, they made eating in his lab a little difficult– no matter how many times she was shooed away, Hypatia would not stop dive-bombing his sandwich and stealing crumbs of bread– but given his current circumstances, it seemed worth it to take some time alone to think.

The door to the lab suddenly shook with a powerful knock. “Doctor?”

Ah. It seemed his absence was noticed. “In the back!” Medic called, not wanting to trigger any more suspicion with silence. 

Heavy pushed the door open with a gentle creak , a worried look on his face. “Do not want to interrupt if you are working…”

“Ah, no! Just treating myself to some time with my doves.” Medic tried to dissuade Heavy’s concern with a smile. “You’re welcome to join me, if you’d like!”

As if on cue, Archimedes descended from the rafters and landed on Heavy’s shoulder with an affectionate coo. Heavy’s laugh was a gentle rumble as he gave the bird a soft pat on the head, before making his way to sit beside Medic. For a while, the pair relaxed in a peaceful quiet, only interrupted by the gentle cooing of doves. 

It was too good to last, however. “So. Doctor did not come to dinner today.” Heavy began. 

Medic swallowed the last of his sandwich. “I did not.”

“And was acting strange during lunch. Did not eat.” Heavy wasn’t accusing, was barely even asking, but the undercurrent of his observations was clear as day. He was concerned. 

Medic knew he could deflect, and that Heavy wouldn’t press further. And yet… if there was anyone he could trust with this secret, it was the mercenary sitting beside him. Perhaps a different perspective would be helpful. “To be truthful, I have had something on my mind…”

Heavy listened as Medic summarized the situation, eyes only widening slightly at the big reveal. Still, after Medic had finished he was silent for a long while, long enough for Medic to know he was shocked. “This.. certainly is something that would occupy your mind.”

“Indeed. I’m simply vexed as to what is the right thing to do.”

At that, Heavy looked at Medic with a playful fondness. “Am not used to seeing Doctor so worked up over morality… Why does it matter so much, when you seem to have no problem splitting open person for their parts?”

Medic let out a huff of frustration. “These situations aren’t even comparable! For one thing, I only kill random criminals, without involving people I care for. And secondly, perhaps more importantly, I have absolutely no stake in this situation. The results only impact others, and nothing concrete is gained or lost either way. What other than morality could guide my actions here?”

“Ah.” Heavy nodded, satisfied with the answer. 

 “And I thought speaking with Pyro would make the decision easier, but if it truly is so important to Herr Scout… is it not my duty to tell him? But that would go against the wishes of his best friend, not to mention his own father!” Without thinking about it, he stood up and began to pace back and forth across the laboratory floor. 

“Hmm… maybe Doctor is thinking too much about too many people,” Heavy mused. “Should focus on Scout, да ? How do you think little man would feel?”

“Well… bad, of course! Betrayed, for one thing, and angry…” Medic’s brow furrowed. “But… perhaps he would be grateful to finally know the truth? To confront the man that’s loomed over his past all these years? Ach, but how am I to know if that would outweigh the pain?”

“If Doctor was in this situation… Would you want to know?” Heavy asked.

“Yes.” Medic’s answer came without hesitation. “But… I am not Herr Scout, Misha. Who am I to make this decision for him?”

 “...But either way you are making choice for him, нет? ”

Medic pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Ach! I know, I know. It seems that no matter what course of action I take, I am complicit in some sort of tragedy! I almost–” Medic cut himself off with an abrupt bout of laughter.

“...Doctor?” 

“Hah… I almost wish I had never discovered Spy’s secret. Isn’t that beautifully ironic!” Medic laughed again, a desperate, humorless sound. 

“Doctor… may I make suggestion?” Heavy asked. 

“Of course, shatz. ” 

“Tell Scout the truth.” 

Medic blinked. “I should— how can you be so definitive?” 

Heavy shrugged. “Have experience living in small cabin, many people stuck living together. Base is similar. And in small house, secrets always get out. Could not hide anything from my sisters— but could control how they found out. And in the end, was always best to be honest.” 

Medic opened his mouth, but didn’t respond. Heavy made it sound simple, obvious, inevitable . And that was frightening.

Sensing Medic’s discomfort, Heavy’s face softened. “It is difficult, I know. Just think of it as— ah, what is the phrase— ripping off the band-aid.” 

The pun caught Medic off-guard, and he snorted. “Heh… perhaps that is wise. But then again— even if the truth is destined to come out, I’m not sure I want to be the one responsible. I… don’t want to hurt him, if I do not have to.” 

“That is understandable.” A fond smile played at Heavy’s lips. “And it is not destined to come out, as you say. I think Spy is much better at keeping secrets than my sisters were.” He paused a moment, then asked, “He is only one who knows besides Doctor and Heavy,  да ?”

“Yes, I haven't told anyone else.” Medic felt himself relax ever so slightly— Spy was obviously planning on keeping the secret, and he knew without asking that Heavy wouldn’t talk. “But that still leaves me with this dilemma…

“Yes,” Heavy’s voice was firm yet comforting. “But this also means you have plenty of time to figure out a solution. Maybe best thing to do now is rest, and tackle problem tomorrow with fresh mind.”

Heavy’s words reminded Medic of how tired he was feeling, and exhaustion crashed into him like a wave. With a deep exhale he sat down next to Heavy and leaned against his shoulder. “Maybe you are right. As usual.”

Heavy chuckled. “Ah, Doctor is too kind to me!”

For the first time since his conversation with Pyro, Medic felt a genuine smile spreading on his face. “Only repaying the kindness you’ve shown me, shatz .” 

The gentle cooing of his doves combined with the rhythmic thump of Heavy’s heartbeat lulled Medic into a peaceful haze, and he soon felt himself nodding off, still smiling. 

If he was more alert, perhaps he would have noticed the shadow of a figure hunched just outside the door, or heard the shallow breathing distorted through their gas mask. But Medic was tired, and remained blissfully unaware.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Doc. Do you mind havin’ a quick chat with me after today’s match in my workshop?”

It was then that Medic knew he was screwed. If Engineer had asked to look over some blueprints, or join him for a quick experiment, Medic wouldn’t have batted an eye. But a quick chat? That signified valuable time solely devoted to talking, which meant the conversation would be serious . 

Medic contemplated not showing up, he really did. But his own morbid curiosity had never lost a battle, so that was how he found himself knocking on Engineer’s door. 

Engineer greeted him with a smile that didn’t extend past the lower half of his face. “Hey, Doc! Why don’t you have a seat, we’ll get started in a bit.”

“Get started?” Medic inquired, his own face twisting into a nervous smile. “With our conversation?”

“…Yeah. Somethin’ like that.” Engineer then turned away from Medic, signaling an end to that line of questioning. 

Without much else to do, Medic adjusted his glasses and took a seat on one of Engineer’s stools. It swiveled slightly under his weight, and for a flash Medic understood Pyro’s urge to spin until he was sick. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, Pyro pushed open the door with a bit more force than strictly necessary. Forgoing their usual enthusiastic greeting to their teammates, they stomped across the floor and plopped into the stool next to Medic. They pointedly crossed their arms, drawing Medic’s attention to a small notepad they held in their hands.

“Ah, Pyro… any ideas about what’s going on? Herr Hardhat seems insistent on keeping me in suspense.”

Pyro fixed Medic with what he could only assume was a glare, before scribbling something in their notepad with rough, frenzied strokes. Before they finished, though, the door swung open once again. 

“Now, laborer, what was so important that you—” Spy’s voice suddenly cut off as he made eye contact with Medic. Ah . 

Pyro looked up from their paper and gave Spy a single-fingered hand gesture that Medic didn’t need translated. 

Spy’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on here?”

Engineer clapped his hand once, the sudden metallic noise startling everyone in the room. “Alright, alright, now that all relevant parties are here, let’s get to talkin’. And how ‘bout we skip the part where you feign innocence?” He directed that last part at Spy.

Spy blinked. “I— forgive me, but I don’t even know what I’m being accused of—”

“Oh, shut up .” All the superficial sweetness left Engineer’s voice when he spoke again. The ferocity of his tone was enough to leave Spy stunned, so Engineer continued: “I’d think you were clever enough to piece it all together alone, but if you really want me to say it, I’ll say it! You’re Scout’s biological father.” 

“...How did you find out?” Medic found himself asking, while Spy’s facial expression cycled through the five stages of grief in rapid succession.

Engineer’s eyes were covered, but Medic could hear them roll. “Pyro heard you tellin’ Heavy, and they told me. Does it really matter?” 

Spy’s mouth hung agape at the news, while Pyro let out a huff of annoyance. They ripped a page out of their notebook, crumpling it into a tight ball, then scrawled out three words with angry red ink: 

DON’T TELL SCOUT!

“Yeah, that’s where Py and I disagree,” Engineer stated. “Because, all cards on the table, if this snake doesn’t tell Scout the truth, I’m gonna.”

Pyro signed something, frustration clear in each movement. Engineer turned their back to them. 

Meanwhile, Spy had regained some sense of composure. “Engineer, if you’d permit me to speak—”

“Nope.” Engineer held a hand up to silence Spy. “You don’t get a say in this.”

“Do any of us?” Medic questioned. “Or did you just call us here to tell us what you’d already decided?”

Engineer turned towards Medic, who suddenly felt himself flinch back at the fury on his face. “The latter.” His voice was a dangerous deadpan. “If I’m the only person in this room who actually cares about Scout enough to tell him the truth, so be it. But that boy deserves to know.”

“You seem… awfully certain,” Medic said delicately. “I’ve actually been struggling with the philosophical and moral implications of this conundrum for quite a while, heh… so if I may inquire as to how exactly you’ve reached this conclusion?”

Medic’s attempt to appeal to Engineer’s scientific side did nothing to decrease the anger in his voice. “Lying to Scout’s a shitty thing to do, especially about something this huge. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to protect him from bein’ sad or whatever– the boy deserves to feel sad! He deserves to feel angry! And more than all that, he deserves closure. Just ‘cause it won’t be pleasant doesn’t mean it ain’t healthy!”  

Medic put a hand to his chin. “Huh. That is not a bad point, actually…” 

Engineer huffed. “Well, I’m glad someone here can see what’s obvious.” 

Pyro audibly objected to Engineer’s words, but none of the mercs could tell what they were saying.  Engineer still wouldn’t look at them. 

“Engineer–” Spy’s voice was urgent, almost pleading. Engineer cut him off just as quickly. 

“Spy, I’m gonna give you one chance to tell him yourself, alright?” He took a deep breath in, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Scout deserves to hear it from you. But if he doesn’t know by tomorrow, I’m telling him. And Medic here has records that’ll back me up. And that’s final.”

Spy sucked in a breath. “Dell, please listen–”

“No!” Engineer snapped. “For the last goddanm time, I’m not gonna listen to a word you say!” Engineer’s face was beginning to turn red. “You had your chance to make this right— hell, you’ve had five years worth of chances workin’ alongside him! But of course you don’t care about nobody but yourself! Honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised you don’t give a shit about your own son—“

Medic heard the crack before he saw Spy move.  Engineer stumbled backwards, gingerly bringing a hand to his reddening cheek. “You… did you just slap me?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spy’s voice was low and laced with venom. “Do you sincerely believe I don’t care about him? That I just decided to waste five years of my life getting blown up daily over gravel for fun? ”  

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that it’s not about me!” Spy suddenly looked up. His eyes were shining, and he clutched at his chest with one hand. “It was never about me! It’s about keeping Jeremy safe, i’m this stupid, untrustworthy war he’s gotten himself mixed up in! And I don’t care how much you hate me for it, you will not take me away from him!”

“You… you knew before you took the job, then?” This time, it was Medic who spoke. 

“Of course I knew!” Spy’s voice broke, and he suddenly put a hand over his mouth. He was shaking. 

“That’s… that’s too little too late.” Engineer’s voice was hoarse. 

“I know. God , I know. I can never be his father.” Spy’s words were still muffled by his hand, but they still hung heavy over the silent workshop. “But… I can be something. I can be someone he can count on, in a time of need. And he deserves that much. And I will not let you take that away from him.”

Engineer stared at Spy. “…Bastard,” he finally managed. “You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?”

“I do,” Spy began, but Engineer had already pushed past him and stormed out of the workshop. Spy watched him leave, before slumping onto a workbench next to Medic. She put his head in his hands.

For a moment, a terrible silence hung in the air. It was broken by the quiet scratch of a pen on paper. 

When Pyro finished writing, they gently tapped Spy on the shoulder and handed them a piece of paper before turning on their heel and following Engie out. Curious, Medic read over Spy’s shoulder:

Engie’s really upset right now. He loves Scout a lot, but I think just then he hated you even more. He wants Scout to hate you, too. 

I don’t think Scout should have to hate everyone. So you’re secret’s safe with me. I think it’s safe with Engie, too, in the end. As for Dr. Medic… Honestly, I never know what he’s thinking.

But just because we both love Scout doesn’t mean we’re friends again. Scout shouldn’t have to hate you, so I’m gonna do it for him. Because you deserve to be hated.  

Spy sighed, folding the letter into thirds and placing it in his suit pocket. As if in a daze, he slowly stood up to leave. 

As he walked away, Medic opened his mouth to apologize. The words died in his throat.

Chapter Text

“ Medic! ”

The doctor in question was rather preoccupied at the moment, barely dodging the business end of the BLU Pyro’s ax. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Herr Sniper!” He yelled in response, blocking another swing with the blade of his bonesaw. He was terribly fortunate that the Pyro was out of ammo, or he would have been literal toast by now. Still, that may have been preferable to the disembowelment that was about to occur. Sniper might want to start searching for a medkit–

A single shot rang out, and the Pyro fell limp. Medic followed the angle of the shot to the roof of a rickety old building, where a solitary silhouette stood against the sun. He didn’t appear to have any visible injuries, but that didn’t stop him from cupping a hand around his mouth and calling “ Medic! ” a second time. 

“Finally decided to take some battlefield medicine?” Medic called back as he began his ascent up the building’s stairs. Sniper typically had a habit of allowing himself to die of very preventable injuries and letting respawn take care of his wounds that was not approved by his doctor. Medic had to admit it was nice to finally be utilized, even if it wasn’t the most strategic use of his time.

“Actually,” Sniper answered as Medic reached the roof, “I wanted to have a chat, just the two of us.” He hadn’t even bothered to take his eyes out of the scope of his rifle.

Medic blinked. “Is now really the best time?” A distant explosion shook the ground, as if to emphasize his point.

Sniper shrugged slightly. “I can multitask. And you can shut your trap and listen, ‘cause this is important.”

“More important than our jobs, Herr Professional?” Medic teased, hoping that if he ignored the ominous tone with which Sniper spoke it would magically go away.

Sniper sighed, swiveling his head slightly so that he could see Medic from the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I’d say the whole Spy and Scout situation takes precedent.”

Medic sucked in a breath. “You— Scheisse, who told you?”

“Relax, doc, I knew already.” Sniper turned back to his scope, adjusting the angle of his gun a few meters to the left. “What I wanted to talk about was the piss-poor job you’ve been doing trying to keep it secret—“

“What do you mean you knew already?” Medic interjected. “How did you find out?”

Sniper grunted in frustration. “Your squawking just cost me a headshot. How’d you find out, huh?”

“Well, after the incident with the bread, I wanted to check everyone’s DNA to ensure none of the proteins had denatured or anything of that sort, so I—”

“Alright, stop.” Finally, Sniper gave up on aiming and turned to face Medic with a sour expression. “Look, it doesn’t matter how you found out.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I didn’t expect you to answer!” Sniper pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yknow, it doesn’t hurt to keep things close to your chest every once in a while. No wonder this whole mess is spreading like wildfire.”

“I still don’t understand… how long have you known about this? Does Spy know that you know? And how on earth did you find out?”

Sniper gave Medic a withering look from over the rim of his sunglasses. “You’re not gonna drop this, are you…”

Medic opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Sniper sighing and raising a hand to signal silence. “Another question you don’t have to answer. I’ll explain my side, but only if you agree to not talk until I’m done telling you how badly you’ve screwed everything up. Got it?”

Medic nodded vigorously, unsure of whether the ‘no-talking’ rule had started or not. 

“Alright,” Sniper said, seemingly satisfied. “So, I’ve known about Spy and Scout’s little family drama for about as long as they’ve both worked here. See, I was doing a background check on old Spook— don’t look at me like that, we’re mercenaries — and while I couldn’t get much about who he was or why he’d joined so soon after Scout, I was able to discover that he sent a big chunk of his monthly pay to an address in Boston— and what do you know, it’s the same place Scout sends money home. Honestly sloppy work on Spy’s part, but that was enough for me to start connecting some dots. Combine it with the fact that they joined within a few months of each other, the way Spy treats the speedster, and the family resemblance… well, let’s just say I was starting to see the full picture.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Medic blurted.

Sniper shot him a look. “Because it wasn’t my business , Doc. I mean, what kinda good could possibly come from interfering in this family drama?”

“Well… Scout deserves to know, does he not?” 

Sniper shrugged. “Look, I wasn’t hired to resolve Scout’s daddy issues. We’ve got work to do, and mucking around in this drama would only make that harder. Matter of fact, it already has.”

Medic adjusted his glasses. “What do you mean by that?”

“You really haven’t noticed?” Sniper’s expression turned incredulous. He gestured towards the scope of his rifle. “May as well see for yourself, mate.”

It took a bit of adjusting to get a clear sight through the scope, but soon Medic could see details of the battlefield with stunning clarity. He swept over Demo throwing bombs at a BLU sentry, past Soldier rocket-jumping towards the roof of a nearby building, before landing on Pyro absolutely obliterating an invisible Spy with their flamethrower. The onslaught notably didn’t stop when Spy decloaked and revealed himself to be red, and Medic suddenly got a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

Giving up on reasoning with Pyro, Spy began to sprint towards the safety of Engineer’s nest, still smoldering. Pyro stopped dead in their tracks as soon as they saw the two sentries Engie had built, then pointedly turned and walked in the other direction. 

Spy, meanwhile, had stopped to catch his breath. “ Laboureur , I am well aware that I am in no position to ask for your aid,” he panted, “But can you please call off your little hellspawn? This is the third time they’ve gone after me today!” 

“Py’s their own person,” Engineer snapped. “I, for one, think the way they’re handling this is absurd, but it’s not up to me how they wanna act.” As he spoke he swung his wrench at his sentry, each hit harder than the last. “Besides, we ain’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment. Deal with ‘em yourself.”

“You’re not…” Spy trailed off, concern flashing across his face. “That is… a surprise.”

Engineer grunted. “Lotta surprises lately, it seems.”

 Spy cleared his throat, awkwardly brushing ash off of his coat. “Well… while I’m here, I couldn’t trouble you for a dispenser, could I?”

“Nope.” With a final hit, Engineer’s sentry upgraded. “Let respawn take care of it, why dontcha.”

Spy looked like he wanted to say something, but was cut off by the sudden appearance of a certain speedster. “Hey, Engie, ya got a sec? Medic’s literally nowhere, and I need heals– oh, hey Spy! What’re you doing here?”

“Scout.” Spy’s voice was curt to hide his shock. “Much of the same, as it turns out.”

Scout looked from Engineer to Spy and back again, finally cluing into the tense mood. “Um… you sure? Did I interrupt something, or–”

“It’s fine, son,” Engineer said, then winced as Spy visibly stiffened and turned away. “I mean– look, I’ll have a dispenser up as soon as I can.”

“...Right.” Scout looked incredulous. He opened his mouth to say add something sarcastic, but instead made a pained gasp and stumbled forward. 

He was dead before he hit the floor, before Spy or Engineer could turn to catch him. In fact, Engineer barely had time to blink before he was met with the same knife to the back, not even wiped clean of Scout’s blood. Spy, injured as he was, could barely stumble a few feet backwards before a bullet through the brain sent him to respawn with his companions. And then the BLU Spy was alone, cleaning her knife with a silk handkerchief and whistling a jaunty tune.

Medic pulled away from the scope, heart pounding in his chest. “Alright, alright, your point has been made.”

“It’s been like this all week, Doc. You really think we’ve been on a losing streak ‘cause of bad luck alone? The team’s in shambles over this, and it’s all ‘cause someone let the cat out of the bag.” Sniper reclaimed his position at the rifle, and fired a shot through the BLU Spy’s head. It didn’t improve his disposition. 

“I didn’t intend for this many people to find out!” Medic stammered.

“‘Course you didn’t. But the second you told one person, it was bound to spread. You’re smart, you must have known that word would travel eventually.” 

Medic couldn’t think of a response to that. “Why… why are you telling me all this, Herr Sniper? What do want me to do about it?”

Sniper shrugged. “Honestly, you just gotta do something . Tell everyone individually to cut the crap, or tell Scout the truth. Because the way things are right now? It’s not sustainable.”

“But… verdammt , if it were so easy to choose one or the other, do you not think I would have done so by now?” The statement came out more desperate than Medic intended, and his voice shook with stress.

Sniper paused, then exhaled. “Look, I know you didn’t sign up for this. If you want my advice, the further down this stays buried, the better. But it’s not so cut and dry anymore. Just… know that, whatever you do, it’ll be better than how tense everything is right now.”

“...Right. Danke, Herr Sniper.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Sniper said as he reloaded his rifle. “Seriously, don’t– I don’t want any part in this mess, you hear? Now, it’s time we got back to work.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, Solly… D’you ever get the feeling there’s a whole story goin’ on without your involvement?”

Soldier looked up from the map he was fervently covering with notes about battle plans. “Hmm. No!”

Demo rolled his eye. “Aye. Figures.” 

He slumped his shoulders and turned back to his game of solitaire, swallowing a lump of frustration that had accumulated in his throat. The card game was supposed to distract him from his issues, give him an easier puzzle to solve. It wasn’t working. 

Saturdays were supposed to be poker night at RED’s base, but ever since Engineer and Pyro’s seemingly random row broke out, no one felt like playing. What could cause those two to argue was in itself a perplexing mystery, but that wasn’t all. Medic had slowly spiraled into a nervous wreck over the past few weeks, his trademarked Cheshire-cat grin becoming a rarity even in battle. Spy spent all his time holed up in his precious smoking room, skipping every meal and even Soldier’s strategy meetings before each fight. Sniper and Heavy were less obvious, being prone to silence in general, but the way their eyes shifted and glanced away when Demo asked what was going on made him sure they were involved somehow. It seemed the only ones who were acting normal were good ol’ Solly, and—

“THINK FAST!”

A can of Bonk! collided with Soldier’s oversized helmet, producing a satisfying metallic clang. Demo suppressed a chuckle as Scout openly guffawed. “Sorry, Sol, I know thinking ain’t your strong suit.”

“Maggot!” Soldier snapped. “How many times have I told you that I refuse to drink this communist potion? Real Americans drink soda pop straight from the fountain!” 

Scout laughed again as he opened his own can with a satisfying tss . “And how’s Old Maid goin’, Demo?”

“This is solitaire, and it’s going bloody fantastic, thanks for asking.” To prove his point, Demo moved a few cards to a different pile. Invigorating! 

“Right, solitaire. Sorry, must have mixed up the game and the player!” Now it was Scout and Soldier’s turn to cackle, while Demo grumbled halfhearted insults under his breath. 

Buried underneath his muttering was a bit of relief, though— the relentless teasing was all the more confirmation that Scout was acting like his normal, annoying self. 

Scout took a long sip of Bonk! and pulled up a chair next to Demo. “Hey, don't you geezers usually play poker around this time? No one’s here.”

“Caught that, did you?” Demo snarked. 

Scout didn’t respond right away. When Demo looked up, he was surprised to see the speedster sitting still as stone, his brow furrowed in thought. “That’s… strange, isn't it?” He finally asked.

“…It sure is.” Excitement flared up in Demo’s chest, but he tried to play it cool— he didn’t want Scout to think he was paranoid. “Seems theres a lot of strange behavior around, lately…”

“Oh my god, right? ” Scout slammed an open palm on the table, startling Demo. “Everyone’s been so weird lately! Thank fuck I’m not the only one whose noticed!” 

Demo nodded, a smug smile creeping onto his face. “Nah, there’s definitely something up. Hey, Solly!” He turned towards Soldier. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?”

Soldier froze. He looked down at the map in his hands, the gears turning in his head. Finally, he answered with an uncertain “...Negative.”

Scout and Demo locked eyes, the same thought flickering through both their minds. Then they stood up and walked to either side of Soldier, surrounding him like a pack of wolves that smelled blood. “You don’t sound so sure there, Sol,” Scout said.

Soldier stiffened as he realized what was going on. “You won’t get any information out of me, private! I am a sealed box!” He snapped. 

Demo’s eye widened. “So there is some information to get, is there? Solly, have you been lyin’ to me?” He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or impressed. 

“I never lied! It’s just that you never asked before!” Soldier yelled, putting a hand to his chest. “I would have told you if you’d asked!”

“Well, I’m asking now!” Demo drummed his hand against the table, buzzing with the thrill of finally cracking a mystery wide open. “What’s goin’ on, Solly?”

Soldier froze for a moment, then looked at Tavish, then at Scout, then back to Tavish. “I… cannot say.”

“What? Why the bloody hell not?”

“I cannot say that either. I’m sorry, Tavish.”

Demo paused. Soldier using his first name meant serious business. The excitement in his chest began to sour into a thick concern. “...Jane?”

Soldier just shook his head, helmet rocking gently. 

“...Alright, then.” Demo gave Soldier a pat on the shoulder, trying to swallow down his worries and frustration. “I’m not sayin’ I won’t try to figure this all out on my own, but if you don’t want to say anything–”

“No.”

Soldier and Demo both turned to look at Scout, who was staring daggers into the wood of the table. “Soldier… I don’t think I can take this anymore. I don’t know what’s going on, but whenever I see Engie, or Heavy, or hell, even Medic, they look at me like… like they know something I don’t. Like they pity me for it. And Spy’s the worst. He won’t even look at me anymore. And I don’t know what happened, or what I did wrong , but– but–”

“Scout, you didn’t do anything wrong!” Soldier shouted. “At least, I do not think you did! I do not actually know what it is they cannot tell you.”

“...But you know they’re keeping it from me? Like, me specifically?” Scout quickly rubbed his eyes before turning back to Soldier. “How do you know all this, anyway?”

Soldier sighed, slumping his shoulders. “I… found something,” He finally admitted. “Follow me.”

As Soldier led Scout and Demoman towards his room, he began to recount what happened. “This was a few weeks ago. Honestly, I didn’t think it was important at the time, or I would have said something. But I was going to ask Engineer to repair my rocket launcher after it was broken during our last match, so I went down to his lab. But Engineer wasn’t there.”

Soldier opened the doors to his room, a sparsely decorated space that really felt more like barracks than a real living quarters. The only decorations were a framed picture of Zhanna and a gratuitously large American flag pinned to the wall. 

Soldier moved towards his bedside table, continuing to tell his story: “The first weird thing that I noticed was that Spy was leaving. And he looked… sad. And I’ve been told I am not good at reading people’s emotions, so when I noticed I thought it was strange. And then I went inside, and Engineer was still not there. But Medic was, and I do not know why.”

“When I asked Medic what was going on, he told me he was waiting for Engineer to arrive. I told him I was also looking for Engineer, and then he said he didn’t need to see Engineer too badly and that I should go first. Then he left. Then I waited. Then I got bored, and started inspecting Engineer’s lab. And then I found this.”

Soldier removed a folded-up piece of paper from the drawer, handing it to Scout. Demo looked over his shoulder, recognizing the familiar loops of Pyro’s handwriting. The message, however, was much less comforting: 

DON’T TELL SCOUT!

“I assumed they were planning some sort of prank as revenge for your constant tomfoolery,” Soldier admitted. “So I didn’t think about it too much. But then Pyro and Engineer got into their fight, and… I do not know what all this could mean. But I do not think it is good.”

Scout stared at the paper, head tilted so low that the rim of his hat covered his eyes. “...You said Medic was the one waiting around in the room for Engie?”

“Affirmative,” Soldier confirmed.

Scout crumpled the paper in his hands, balling them into fists. “Right. Okay. So Medic was probably gonna tell him whatever he told Pyro and Spy. So that means he knows what’s going on.”

Demo put a hand on Scout’s shoulder, finding the poor speedster shaking slightly under his touch. “Listen, lad, I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding. I mean, what sort of dirty secret could Medic of all people have dug up on you?”

When Scout turned to look back at him, his eyes were wide and watery. “I think I’ve got some idea. But…” He took a short, shaky breath in. “But I need to find out for myself.”

Demo didn’t like the grave tone with which he spoke. “Alright, Scout… keep us in the loop too, will you?” He smiled at Scout, hoping he’d return the gesture. 

Instead, Scout simply nodded, before turning around and marching out of the room with the grim determination of a man heading towards a death sentence.

Chapter Text

Concocting the formula for a Medigun was an extraordinarily delicate procedure, more so than any surgery Medic had completed in the past. It required patience, a steady hand, and a steadier mind to portion out the exact chemical ratio to produce the healing gas. A single slip or oversight could cause a terrible chain reaction, resulting in grievous bodily harm, death, or worst of all, wasting the precious materials that go into the miraculous mist. And so, it was with the highest of concentration that Medic carefully poured drops ruby-red liquid into his solution, counting each drop as it slid into the beaker—

The lab door suddenly opened with a SLAM , and the vial in Medic’s hand slipped and shattered on the floor. Medic’s momentary terror turned to annoyance as he looked up from his desk. “ Scheiße, Scout, have you not heard of knocking? ” 

Scout didn’t answer right away, just staring at Medic with a faraway look in his eyes. “Sorry, Doc, but this is important. Like, real important.”

The fear that had just drained from Medic’s mind suddenly flooded back with a newfound intensity. “O-oh? What is it? Are you feeling well?” 

Scout sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s… cut the crap, ‘kay? Listen, I— I know. ”

“Ah.” Medic’s stomach dropped, alongside his facade. “Who told you, then?”

“No one, I just kinda… figured it out.” Scout’s hand was still obscuring his face, so he couldn’t make out his expression. 

“How… how are you feeling?” Medic asked again, awkwardly gesturing for Scout to sit down on the operating table. 

Scout’s movement when he went to sit down was slow, like he was walking through water. “I’m… I guess it hasn’t really sunk in yet, y’know? It’s all so…” he waved a hand through the air in lieu of responding. “I should probably call my Ma, but… God, telling her makes it feel so real.”

“Yes, I’d expect it would be quite a shock,” Medic placed a hand on Scout’s shoulder. “I’m… no psychiatrist, but if you need anything—“

“And I mean, it’s not like this is the first time!” Scout evidently wasn’t listening, instead standing up abruptly and beginning to pace around the lab. “I mean, I die every day, right? You told us we were gonna die of fucking bread tumors last month! I should be eating death for breakfast!”

Medic opened his mouth to respond with another kind platitude before really processing what Scout said. “I… what does death have to do with…?”

Scout turned on a dime to face him, eyes shining. “With the fact that I’m dying? Jeez, Medic, I dunno!”

Medic blinked. 

“… That’s it, right? The big secret you guys have been keepin’ from me?” Scout was trembling now, but his gaze never wavered from Medic’s face. “Why everyone’s been actin’ so weird around me? Blowin’ me off, or lookin’ at me all sympathetic? ‘Cause they know there’s something wrong with me.”

Medic blinked again. Then, despite everything, he burst out laughing. 

It was Scout’s turn to look dumbfounded. “Hey, what’s so fucking funny, huh?”

“Oh— Herr Scout, I thought you— I’m sorry!” Medic gasped. “You are not dying, no, of course not! If you were, I’m sure I’d have no problem dealing with it.”

“…Shit, really?” 

“Really.” Medic nodded. “I assure you, you’re perfectly healthy. Do you think our employers would allow you to fight if you were not?”

Scout exhaled, a smile growing on his face. “ Shit! Man, I thought I was done for!” He began to bounce on the balls of his feet, energy restored. “Well, thanks for clearin’ that up, Doc!” 

“My pleasure,” Medic replied. He suppressed a relieved sigh as Scout saluted with two fingers before running out of the lab, his heartbeat slowing as Scout’s footsteps grew softer and softer—

Until they screeched to a halt. 

Scout was back in the lab in an instant, eyes wild with a mix of fury and excitement. “ Waitafuckingminute! ” He shouted, the words tumbling out of his mouth in one jumbled pile. “If that’s not the secret, what is it?”

Medic was frozen in place. “The secret…?” He repeated, though it wasn’t a question and they both knew it.

“Oh, don’t play dumb , Doc,” Scout snarled. “You know what it is! You’ve been tellin’ everybody— everybody but me! And it’s about time we changed that!” 

The fire in Scout’s eyes was growing too intense, too searingly hot, and Medic found himself turning away. “I… I’m afraid I cannot… I do not know…” Half-baked excuses fell out of his mouth in time with his racing heart. 

A hand grabbed at his shoulder, and without warning Medic was being spun around until he was inches away from Scout's searing glare. “No, fuck all that,” Scout hissed. “And listen . I don’t know what happened, but everyone’s been treating me like I’m made of fucking glass! And I’ve been driving myself as crazy as you trying to figure out what I did! But I can’t, ‘cause no one will fucking talk to me anymore!” 

“Ah…” Medic recalled how his own guilt made him avoid the runner on and off the battlefield. If the others were doing the same… “Scout, I’m sorry.”

“You should be!” Scout shouted. He shoved himself off of Medic, sending Medic stumbling backwards. “And you still haven’t told me what’s going on!”

Medic adjusted his glasses and looked at Scout. He was breathing heavy, hands balled into fists so tight his bones were visible through the skin. He was biting his lip to keep it from trembling, and his eyes shone with frustrated tears. In Medic’s professional opinion, he was absolutely miserable. 

And wasn’t that the exact thing they were supposed to be preventing? 

“I’m sorry,” Medic repeated. “I… I don’t think I have an excuse for how shortsighted I’ve been.” It was almost funny, in a way, and Medic found a wobbly smile spreading onto his face. “I wanted to consider every factor— how it would affect you, affect Herr Spy, affect the team’s morale and efficiency— and yet somehow, I missed what was right in front of me. That is no excuse, but—”

“Hold up,” Scout interjected. “Why— what’s Spy gotta do with all this?”

Medic swallowed. Right— this wasn’t about him, either. He took a deep breath in and looked Scout straight in his ice-blue eyes. 

“ Herr Scout… you may want to sit down.” 

“I’m fine where I am,” Scout said, though he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms in preparation. The way he was leaning, with a superficial air of relaxation barely concealing the coiled-up spring of rage and excitement, like a cat ready to pounce— 

Medic wondered how he hadn’t seen the family resemblance a long time ago.

“Scout… Herr Spy is your father.”

Chapter Text

“…You’re fucking with me.”

Medic winced at the harshness of Scout’s voice. “I’m— I’m afraid not. I know this is a lot to take in—“

“No! You— you’re a sick bastard for joking about this, you know?” Scout shook his head. “I mean, I already knew you were twisted, but this is low— what is this, some kinda psycho experiment to see how I’d react?” 

Despite everything, Medic found himself bristling slightly. “I assure you, this is no prank. I—“

“How’d you even figure something like that out, anyway?” Scout snapped. “There’s no way, right? So you’re obviously lying!”

Medic took a deep breath in. “As I was about to explain, I was testing everyone’s DNA to ensure that no radiation from the teleporters had damaged it, and… well, it was a match.”

Scout was suddenly looking quite pale. “I— c’mon, Medic, I said this isn’t funny. Spy— Spy of all people— it just— there’s no way! No way I just so happen to be workin’ with my dad who abandoned me this whole time, no way! ”

“Mmh— actually, he admitted that he followed you here intentionally.” Now that the truth had come out, it was hard for Medic to stop the flow of information. 

Scout froze at that, swallowing a visible lump in his throat. “So… so he knew?” He said, after a long pause. “So he knew the whole fucking time?”

“…I know this is a lot to take in,” Medic repeated, because it was all he could think to say.

Scout was as still as a marble statue, and almost as pale. “You’re… really not fucking with me, Doc?” 

Medic shook his head. “ Nein , I am not.” He tried his best to give Scout a calming, sympathetic smile. “Now, I am far from a psychologist, but… would you like to talk about this?”

“…Yeah,” Scout said in a dull voice. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the lab.

Medic stared after him, opening his mouth to ask a question before he realized the glaringly obvious answer. “Ah, scheiße… ”

-

“Scout, you can’t just barge in—“

“Oh, cut the crap, Spy!”

The voices wafted out of Spy’s smoking room and down the hall, causing Medic to pause outside. The doctor was out of breath from running across half the base to catch up to Scout; perhaps predictably, he’d been too slow.

“Now look here,” Scout continued. “I’m only gonna ask one more time. And if you don’t say it now, you’re not getting another fucking chance, alright?”

“Scout, I hardly know what I’m being accused of—“

“ One more chance, Spy. ”

Medic listened to the conversation, to Scout’s dagger-sharp words and Spy’s stunned silence. It was all he could do— he was frozen in place outside the smoking room, in the silence of a moment before two cars collide, squeezed in the space between them until he could barely breathe, let alone dream of moving. 

Spy was the first to crack, in a small, desperate voice. “ Jeremy… ”

Something slammed against a wall. “Don’t— You don’t get to call me that.”

“…I understand.” Spy’s voice wavered. “Scout, I— I know there is nothing I can say that will fix this.”

Silence.

“I won’t waste your time with excuses, or beg for forgiveness. If you never want to see me again, I’d understand. I know that what I’ve done is unforgivable, and not a day goes by when I do not regret it. You… deserved a better father.”

“…Feel better, now that that’s off your chest?” Medic could taste the bitterness in Scout’s voice.

“What?”

“I asked if you felt any better, ‘cause that whole speech sure as shit wasn’t for my benefit.”

“I— I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, clearly not sorry enough to try and fix it, huh? You’re seriously not even gonna explain why you abandoned us, or why you’re suddenly here again? Not even gonna ask me to forgive you? I mean, am I not worth the effort?”

“ Non , Jeremy—“

“I said don’t fucking call me that! You don’t get to call me that when you still haven’t even said you’re my dad! That I’m your son! And I know you think I’m a dumbass fuckup and you don’t wanna associate with me, but—”

“That is not true! That could not be further from the truth!” Spy was shouting now, matching his son’s volume. “I am proud of you! I have always been incredibly proud of you!”

There was a small sound, like a muffled sob. “…Then why didn’t you say something? Why’d I have to learn from the fucking Medic, huh?”

“…I did not want to lose you. I couldn’t— I was selfish. Scout, I am so sorry—”

“ Don’t touch me. ”

A longer stretch of silence, permeated only by the occasional shaky breath in that chilled Medic to the core.

“So—“ Scout sniffled. “So you just thought— thought I’d cut you off completely? Never ever forgive you?”

“…I know how my actions affected you. Are you really going to tell me I’m wrong?”

“I guess we’ll never know, huh?”

“I… Perhaps I judged you too harshly.”

“Pfft.” The laugh was devoid of any humor. “Cause I’m just some dumb American kid to you, right?”

“It is possible you will always be younger in my eyes. You are my child, after all.”

“…Fuck.” Scout suddenly sounds tired. “This… this sucks. All of this— it sucks. You suck, Spy.”

It was far from the worst insult that Spy had endured, even only including those from his own son. But it was enough to break him. 

The door swung open, and the sound of crying was briefly gut-wrenchingly loud. Somehow, Scout had the decency to close the door behind him. His red-rimmed eyes landed on Medic, who didn’t have time to pretend he wasn’t very obviously evesdropping. “Ah, Herr Scout!”

Scout exhaled. “Look, don’t tell the others about… actually, nevermind. Tell whoever the fuck you want. I gotta make a call.”

With a final withering glare, Scout stalked off. Medic was left alone in the hallway, the sound of sobs still ringing in his ears. 

Chapter Text

A medical leave form awaited Medic on his desk the next morning; an official name that was certainly fake, a description of an equally fabricated illness, and a blank space for a qualified medical professional to sign off. Medic moved his pen quickly, before leaving the room— that should give the invisible man plenty of time to submit the form before the day's battle.

It was the least he could do, after all the trouble he’d caused. But Medic knew the fallout was far from over, and that a very dark day was ahead—

“Mornin, Doc!”

Scout’s chipper tone hit Medic like a slap to the face, and he visibly flinched. “ H-herr Scout! You’re…”

“Fine and dandy, thanks for askin’. You look like shit, though, trouble sleepin’?” Scout shot Medic a smile as sweet as those energy drinks he was always guzzling down. In fact, Scout’s own bloodshot eyes and shaking hands suggested he most likely traded the caffeinated beverage for sleep last night. 

“Scout… if you need to sit out today’s fight, I could—”

Scout cut him off with a laugh. “Nah, I know how I’m gonna deal with stuff. Don’t sweat it, ‘kay?” 

Medic was downright perspiring, but he tried to match Scout’s smile. “I’m glad to hear that!”

“Yeah… besides! What am I gonna do, spend the day playing hooky with Spy?”

Medic blinked. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” Scout tilted his head downward. “Wouldn’t be Spy if he wasn’t running away, right?”

Medic was saved from having to respond by Demoman’s sudden entrance into the hallway with a yawn. He rubbed at his eye blearily, before processing which two mercs were in front of him and lighting up. 

“Well, if it isn’t Scout and Medic!” He said, smiling like a cat that caught a canary. “Anything you two’d like to share with the class?”

Scout laughed and clapped Demo on the back. “Ah, you’ll find out soon enough!”

“Scout, what are you—“ Medic began.

“Don’t sweat it!” Scout yelled as he sped down the hallway and away from the conversation.

Medic sighed, regarding the now-empty hall with the same expression one might spend on an approaching storm cloud. Oh, the fallout was only just beginning. 

-

“ Mission begins in sixty seconds .”

“Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

Medic stiffened at Scout’s voice, grip tightening on his medigun. Scout had been the picture of peace and serenity all morning,and he chooses one minute before a battle to… well, he wasn’t sure what Scout was planning, but his eerily calm tone didn’t inspire much confidence.

“Not excited for today’s bout?” Engineer asked.

“Nah, not what I meant.” Scout’s voice was cold, contrasting with the sharp metallic clang of metal that followed. Scout had, without warning, struck his bat against the iron gates. The pre-battle chatter grinded to a halt. 

“Okay, cool. Now that I’ve got everyone’s attention, how many of you guys knew?” 

A stone-cold silence descended upon the group, leaving Medic frozen in place. Scout’s blue eyes darted from face to face, burning with a strange sort of defiance, as if daring the lie to continue. 

“Um.” Even Soldier struggled to break the tension. “Knew what?”

And like that, the spell was broken. A low, humorless chuckle snuck its way from the back of the room, and Sniper pushed himself off the wall. “So Medic finally cracked, I reckon?”

“ Knew what? ” Demo repeated. “Scout, what’s going on?” 

“ Mission begins in 30 seconds. ”

“So Sniper knew,” Scout brushed past Demoman, thrusting an arm through the air. “What about the rest of you, huh? What about you?” His pointed finger landed on Heavy.

Heavy tilted his head downwards, expression unreadable. “Was not my place to say, Scout. I am sorry—”

“Save it,” Scout snapped. “I knew you knew, anyways, no way your boyfriend’s not gonna tell you, right?” 

Medic should have bristled at that, but he remained perfectly petrified. Heavy didn’t speak either, only bowing further his head. 

The lack of response did nothing to dampen Scout’s quickly-growing anger. “And you two,” He snarled, turning to Pyro and Engineer. “Anything to say for yourselves?”

“ Mission begins in ten seconds .”

“…I wanted to tell you, son, I really did,” Engineer began, removing his hardhat. Pyro similarly began to sign rapidly— “And Pyro says they just didn’t want you to get hurt, is all—“

Scout let out a shaking breath. “‘Course you both knew. Fuckin’ of course . I thought you both would— gh . Fuck. Y’know, fuck all of you guys, okay?”

“Scout,” Demo said slowly. “ What is going on .”

“ Five! ”

Scout didn’t respond.

“ Four! ”

Instead, he shot the group with another glare— the ice in his eyes had melted, and he was left with a red-rimmed watery mess that somehow managed to sting harder—

“ Three! ”

—Before wordlessly turning away, towards the doors.

“ Two! ”

It was Sniper who finally put the Demo out of his misery, just as the rusty iron fences began to creak open. “Spy is Scout’s dad.”

“ One! ”

And Scout was off, speeding like a bullet across the desert sand. 

-

“Misha, am I a bad person?” 

“ Да ” Replied the Heavy, without even opening his eyes. A slight smile played on his face as he added, “You are merciless killer, голубушка , platonic ideal of evil scientist.”

Medic sighed, sadly twisting a bit of Heavy’s entrails around his finger. “Yes, I know, but…”

Through a combination of the Medigun’s healing glow and a very precisely worded contract Medic had once signed with a certain demon, Heavy was lucid during the admittedly unnecessary surgery. Unnecessary for Heavy, at least; Medic often found that his mind worked best when his hands were preoccupied, so these surgical sessions were more for his own sake. That afternoon, though, not even the familiar comfort of being elbow-deep in a chest cavity brought Medic any solace. 

“…I’m afraid I handled the whole Scout situation poorly,” Medic admitted. 

Heavy sighed, and Medic watched as his lungs deflated. “You would like honest opinion?”

Medic paused, fingers hovering over Heavy’s pulsing heart. Did he really want to hear the truth? He winced when the irony of the situation dawned on him. “Of course.”

“You handled situation very poorly.” 

Medic put a hand to his face and dragged it down his cheek, ignoring the blood that trailed from his palm. “Gh… did you have to be that honest?”

Heavy chuckled a bit. “Well, thing is… I do not think there was a good way to handle it. It was always going to be painful. Spy made sure if that.”

“I… do not know if that is entirely fair,” Medic found himself admitting. “I heard firsthand his reasoning, and I can’t say it doesn’t make sense.”

“Hm… well, then it seemed it was doomed from the start.”

“Fated to be a tragedy, eh?” Medic smiled a bit, though there was little humor in it.

Heavy sighed, pushing himself up off the table to sit up. His organs jostled around slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice. “ Nyet, not tragedy. Is not over yet.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“…Because we are still here. Spy and Scout are still here, did not quit. A part of them did not give up hope. And neither must you.”

Medic exhaled, gently pushing Heavy back down. “Alright, alright— thank you, Schatz . I think I will sew you up now, ja ?” 

Chapter Text

“I have an idea!” Medic said cheerfully, as he let himself into Demo’s room. 

Demoman, who had been attempting to  sleep off a hangover at ten PM,  sat up in bed with a start. “Whuh— that door was locked!”

“Well, I just used my key— oh, don’t look at me like that! What if there was a medical emergency in a locked room?” Medic tutted. “But nevermind all that for now, you must help me with my plan to raise Scout’s spirits! Which involves, as it were, lots of spirits.”

Demo squinted at Medic. “…Huh?”

“Well,” Medic began, “I’ve examined every option, and I believe that a night out would do Scout a world of good! A release, as it were, of all of his pent-up energy and emotions. Of course, as a medical professional I would have preferred a non-alcoholic option, but given what happened the last time there was a laser tag arena in Teufort…” 

Demo smiled fondly. “Was totally worth it.” 

“… Our options are limited. And the only adequate release I can think of that does not involve grievous bodily harm or damages to company property is, to put it bluntly, getting absolutely shit-faced.”

“So, ye figured ye’d ask the expert?” 

“Precisely!” 

Demo stretched himself out, before fumbling on his nightstand for his eyepatch. “Hmm… and why should I be in the helping mood, exactly? Ye pretty much ruined everything, y’know. Maybe ye should fix it by yerself.”

“Well,” Medic said, “This isn’t really about me.”

Demo stared at Medic for a moment, coal-black eye burning into the doctor. “…Hmph. Good answer.”

Medic let out a breath he hadn’t meant to hold. “So, I can rely on your assistance?”

“Aye, I’ll help.” Demo straightened his eyepatch, took a sip of warm scrumptious from a glass on his nightstand, and slid out of bed. “But first off, we’ll have to find Scout.”

Medic tilted his head slightly. “I assumed he’d be in his room, no?”

“Nah, Scout runs when he’s upset.” Demo said it nonchalantly, like it was common knowledge. Medic winced internally at yet another reminder that he should pay more attention to his teammates. “He’s somewhere out in the dessert, probably frozen halfway to respawn by now. If we’re lucky, he’ll have stuck to the road…”

As it turned out, they barely had to pull their Mann-co issued truck out of the base’s garage to find Scout curled up next to a cactus. The white glow of the truck’s headlights made his eyes seem as shiny and sharp as shards of glass. “M’not going back,” he spat after standing up. “Don’t care whose in there.”

Medic hopped out of the car first, and he noticed Scout stiffen with surprise. “Well, you certainly can’t remain out here— you’ll catch a cold!”

Scout sniffled, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. “M’ fine, Doc.”

“We know, laddie,” Demo said gently. “But ye should be more than fine! We wanna help!”

“Then… you won’t make me go back yet, yeah?” Scout challenged.

“‘Course not.”

Scout blinked. “…’Kay. Well. Good.”

“Actually!” Medic interjected, “Demoman and I were wondering if you would be interested in joining us for a drink!”

Scout folded his arms. “Not really the night for it, considering how hard we blew the match today.” 

“‘Never stopped me before!” Demo said jovially. “Besides, Doc here says a distraction could be good for ye! Bit of stress relief, after the day you’ve had.”

Scout didn’t reply, though his arms unfolded as he seemed to consider Demo’s offer. 

“Does it not bear sitting alone in the cold?” Medic asked.

“…Fine.” Scout’s answer made Medic’s smile widen, and Demo let out a hoot of joy. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it or nothing!”

-

Scout’s laughter was loud.

A lesser man may have found it obnoxious as Scout guffawed in response to another one of Demo’s stories, but Medic could only reflect on how the base had been sorely missing the noise. 

“So that’s how me mum found me,” Demo continued, “And of course by that point, the cows had gotten bored and wandered off, so I looked like a right fool standin’ in the field like that!” 

“Man,” Scout wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “My ma woulda killed me for wasting all that butter. How old did you say you were?”

“…Couldn’t have been older than six.” Demo took a swig of his fifth beer of the night, expression ironically sobering. 

Scout evidently noticed the shift, tilting his head slightly. “Y’okay, Demo?”

“Mmm.” Demo hummed a bit, examining the bottom of his glass. “Actually, lad… D’ye mind if I tell another story? It’s not quite as cheerful.”

Scout shook his head. “Be my guest, man.”

Medic eyed the pair with uncertain interest as Demo took a deep breath. What was the Scotsman getting at? Were they not supposed to be distracting Scout from his woe? Still, he trusted Demo’s judgment on these matters more than his own, and chose to stay silent.

“Well,” Demo began, “Y’may not know this, but I come from a long line of demolitions experts. And with this lineage came… a tradition, of sorts. To test new members of the family, make sure they’re worthy of the DeGroot name.”

“Like… some kinda test?” Scout prompted.

“Mmm, of sorts,” Demo agreed, voice light. “If ye can call ‘dropping your newborn at the nearest orphanage until he’s learned how to make his first bomb on his own’ that. I guess I got a passing grade.”

“They what ?” Medic was surprised by the volume of his own voice. Evidently, so was Demo, who nearly spilled his beer as he turned to face him. “Ah… Entschuldigung, Demoman, apologies. I simply can’t imagine going through a trial so… irresponsible. ” 

Demo’s expression darkened, and Medic found himself biting the tip of his tongue. He hated how loose alcohol made his lips. Still, after a tense beat, Demo sighed and raised his glass. “Aye. Irresponsible’s a good word for what it was.”

It was suddenly Scout’s turn to look sour, though he still had a joyless grin on his face. “Guess we’ve all got daddy issues, huh?” He tilted the bottom of his bottom towards Demo, an offer of a toast.

Demo clinked his glass against Scout’s. “My old man was a model father for the rest of his life. Ye know, he was a mess when he got me from the orphanage, blubberin’ out apologies and saying how proud he was. He made me who I am today. And yet… when they first took me home, I vowed I’d escape the family name. I thought, if they’d kept me… there’s innocent, good people, who’d still be alive today.”

“…You’re still living with your mom.” Scout didn’t look at Demo as he began to pick at the wood of the bar. “Why’d you change your mind?”

Demo shrugged. “They’re my parents. Oh, they fucked me up good, but in the end, they tried to make up for it. And if someone’s really tryin’ to love ye, I don’t see a point in pushing them away. Ye deserve love from yer parents, so… let yerself have it.”

A gentle quiet hung over the group for a time, before Scout spoke softly: “And how d’you know? That they’re really trying? That they won’t cut and run again the second things get hard?”

Demo was silent. 

“Aheh, if I may,” Medic said, clearing his throat a bit. “It would seem that, hypothetically, if a prissy prick of a secret agent took the least glamorous job available to him in order to watch over his son, that he was willing to put in at least a modicum of effort.”

Demo snickered, nudging Scout a bit. “Subtle as a brick, eh?”

Scout laughed again, loud and harsh. “Hey, wasn’t tonight s’posed to be a distraction?” 

“...Fair point,” Medic said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Scout finished the rest of his bottle, before smacking his lips together. “Not like it’s ever really gonna leave my mind. All I know is I’ve got a lot of thinking to do, and that thinking’s never really been my specialty.”

“I much prefer drinking,” Demo added, sending Scout into another fit of laughter.

Medic smiled. “Well… if you ever need another distraction– we are here for you. The whole team is.”

“...Yeah,” Scout said. “That’s one thing I know.”

Chapter Text

Two short knocks claimed Medic’s attention, and he looked up from his bloody experiment. “Come in!” He called as he walked towards the sink to wash his hands. 

The smell of cigarette smoke alerted Medic to the identity of the intruder. “Ah, come for a new pair of lungs?” he half-joked– it was getting close to the time that Spy’s most recent transplant would be filled with tumors from his habit, but that was most likely coincidental. 

“Actually,” Spy said, “I came to talk.”

Medic turned off the tap water, instantly regretting how silent his lab sounded without it. He hadn’t had a real conversation with Spy since… well, since before everything. 

“I suppose that this is long overdue,” Medic said, nervously glancing at the fourth wall. 

Spy nodded, flicking his butterfly knife out of his breast pocket and beginning to toy with it. “Indeed it is.”

Medic plastered on a familiar, unsettling smile. “So! What is it that you’d like to discuss?”

The butterfly knife sliced through the air. Spy hissed in a breath before speaking. “I need to know how… how to fix this. Or salvage what’s left, at least.”

Medic winced slightly, letting out a nervous chuckle. “And you’re asking me? Truth be told, I am not the leading expert on dealing with situations tactfully.”

“Everyone else in this base hates my guts. I quite literally have no other choice.”

“That is… extremely fair!” Medic tried not to let his own worry seep into his jovial tone. 

“So.” Spy’s blade stopped in midair, then slid neatly into its sheath. “What do you recommend, doctor?”

Medic took a deep breath. “Well… As I’ve said, I do not know much about social situations. But you know what I do know much about?”

Spy’s eyebrow rose quizzically. “What would that be?”

“Birds!” Medic clapped once to accentuate his point, as though it would make more sense that way. From the look on Spy’s face, it didn’t. 

Undeterred, Medic pursed his lips and let out a low whistle. A few doves that had been fliting around the rafters swooped down to settle on his shoulders and head. Medic smiled at Spy.

“You see, I hadn’t initially expected to adopt these fellows. I had to do a lot of research into their care. Did you know they live on every continent except Antarctica? But I digress.”

“Doves— most animals, really— need time to acclimate to new environments. You can’t touch them for the first few days of ownership, or they’ll become overly stressed— you must wait for them to warm up to you.”

“So you’re suggesting I do nothing?” Spy’s voice was strangely raw.

“Nein, not nothing. There is one very important thing you must do— be here. Stay here. No sudden moves, no outbursts… just your presence. You must give him the opportunity to approach you.” Medic stretched out his arm as one of the doves walked down to his hand, perching on an outstretched finger. “Trust is a fickle, fragile thing. But if you do not break it again, it can be rebuilt.”

Spy eyed the bird, nodding curtly. “Thank you,” he said in a brusque tone. “I… do not enjoy the thought of waiting, after spending so many years out of his life. But I suppose you have a point.”

“Well, it worked for the doves!” Medic said with a lopsided grin. “And… for what it’s worth, I believe things will work out in the end. It’s obvious you care for Herr Scout.” 

If Spy’s eyes looked a touch misty at the comment, Medic pretended not to notice. “Thank you,” Spy repeated. Then, with another nod of acknowledgment, he was gone.