Chapter Text
“Thank you, Sniper. I try to be everywhere, but I’m starting to think that not even I am that good.” He smiled, his expression charming as he made one last attempt at a joke. Judging by the grin that Sniper returned, it landed.
“Could’a had me fooled.” The assassin muttered, feeling warmth tease at the tips of his ears as his eyes remained downcast on a non-interesting spatter of blood on his shoes. “But next time, crank the bloody gun up a notch, yeah? I can take it. Hope you’re not babying me just because I’m a billion-dollar investment.” He scoffed, remembering the staggering number very clearly and struggling to value his own life at that number. He was just some bloke that killed people, for crying out loud. Hardly a billion-dollar investment. Hell, his dad wouldn’t even invest-
“Hmm? Oh,” Medic hummed in acknowledgement as he fiddled with the medigun, repositioning the contraption and writing something down. Already onto the next thing. Sniper envied that about the doctor. He spun on his heel to face Sniper. “Well, the medigun should only be tuned to such high frequencies in relation to the patient’s heart-rate. It heals you all so quickly on the field because of adrenaline.” Medic paused, patting his own chest in the pattern of a rapid heart-beat with a grin before continuing.
“But off the field, your heart-rate returns to normal, and so the medigun must be adjusted accordingly. Otherwise, your heart would burst like a… wasserballon !” The doctor laughed, striding over to Sniper and placing his hands behind his back. His posture was always the same, but he managed to convey so much emotion through so little body language. Sniper swallowed; that didn’t sound like such a pleasant fate. He remembered Heavy jovially recalling how Medic replaced his heart after some experimental medigun treatment that the gunman certainly did not envy.
Medic leaned back casually against the table that Sniper had previously been perched upon, the toes of their boots touching. Sniper felt his heart begin to thrum in his chest as his eyes shot down to the source of the contact. “So, if you wish to have quicker treatments, then I suggest coming here with your heart already racing!” The doctor concluded with a grin and a single clap of his own hands, the sound drawing Sniper’s eyes back to Medic’s.
“Right, well,” Sniper cleared his throat and quickly made for the door, adjusting his hat unnecessarily and gave Medic a brisk nod. “I’ll remember that. Thanks again doc.” He lingered in the doorway, as though he wanted to say more, drumming his fingers on the frame of the door before quickly departing with a frown. He heard Medic call a good night to him, and he walked faster. He’d forgotten his mug. He didn’t care. He walked all the way to his van, stepping inside and locking it, leaning against the door and heaving a sigh.
He reckoned that his heart felt a lot like whatever a wasserballoon was.