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The day was unpleasant. Dry, hot air was burning Heavy’s throat and causing him to sneeze now and then. Desert weather wasn’t exactly the one he liked. Each day like that, Heavy missed Russia more. He was longing for the cold snow, refreshing air and evenings he spent before the fireplace with his family. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the picture: His mother knitting in the corner, sitting in her favorite chair, his sisters playing old, Russian songs and him, reading next to the fireplace. These were the memories worth keeping, the memories he would never throw away or deny. He missed his home and family dearly, and, even if he didn’t show it on the outside, he was a caring man. The rest of the team seemed to miss it in him. It was always like that - everywhere he went, people just saw a big, scary guy in him and preferred to stay away. Sometimes it was a blessing - the other times, a curse.
He was riding through the desert, back to the base, in a car a bit too small for him to feel comfortable in. Drops of sweat appeared on his forehead, his legs felt numb and his lips swollen from dehydration. He couldn’t stand the heat, yet he had to survive the hell ride. The man glanced at the back at the blue briefcase laying on the backseat. Taking it from the enemy’s base was a piece of cake for him. It wasn’t guarded very well, and he quickly took care of the ones that tried to get in his way. The rest of his team was on other missions, too far away to help him. He couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy this assignment - finally, he got a little peace. A nice break from the usual, noisy life at the base. If it weren’t Scout yelling, it was Medic’s birds flying around and causing havoc, and other times Pyro set the whole base on fire. And…
He could go on and on about the things his teammates were doing to disrupt the slow pace of life he preferred. Once again, he longed for quiet days in the mountains, when he went hunting for bears. Or the rides to the city for other necessities. This new way of life was something he had to adapt to. There was no other way if he was to spend another few years in Teufort with these 8 lunatics.
Not all of them were that bad. But Heavy always felt a little left out, like he didn’t exactly fit in with the group. He wasn’t alone, yet he felt lonely. His days could be filled with laughter, with battle, but at the end of the day, he still felt… empty. He took this job mostly to support his family, but he didn’t realize how hard it’s going to be for him. But he couldn’t leave. He had his duties and that was the thought that kept him there. There were four women somewhere over the ocean, the four women he loved more than anything else in the world and he would do anything for them. And if it meant that he had to stay here, in a foreign country and battle with his loneliness, then so be it.
Suddenly, he felt a bump on the road. One of his tires began to go flat, and he had to stop the car.
- Cука блять… - he sighed and got out of the vehicle. The tire was slowly losing air, due to a hole something did in it. He looked around and saw a broken, spiky collar lying on the road. Heavy frowned upon this strange view. A collar? Here, in the middle of the desert?
His unspoken question was soon answered by a long whine, that came from the ditch on the right side of the road. Curious, he stepped closer to it. And there, in between dry bushes laid a dog. It was a large german shepherd, Heavy could tell by the way he crouched. It looked very unnatural and uncomfortable.
- Poor dog… - he muttered to himself, leaning over the ditch. The dog’s fur was dirty and stuck together with blood in many places. It looked at Heavy and growled, following it with a whimper. The fur around his neck was outstandingly messy and red. It looked as if the dog freed himself from the spikey collar, but hurt itself badly during the process. Heavy crouched and extended his hand, so the dog could smell it.
- Come on, boy… I am friend. You can trust me. - he said softly. The dog raised its head once again, looking at the man suspiciously. Then, it sniffed his hand one time… another… the shepherd moved its head to the side for a while and then sniffed Heavy’s hand one last time. He smiled lightly and waited. The dog put its snout on his hand and whimpered once more. It must’ve been in real pain, probably for a couple of days. There was tiredness in the dog's eyes, and a plead to be taken away from the heat and dirt. Away from the place, it’s been sitting in for god knows how long. It was a miracle that there weren’t any vultures around, otherwise, the dog wouldn’t stand a chance against them.
Heavy petted the wounded animal lightly, and it responded with a pleased purr. He looked around once more. There was nobody around, and he still had to change the tire to get to the base.
- I pull you out now, ok? Don’t bite me - he said, taking off his vest. He put in on the ground and stepped into the ditch, to take the dog out carefully. The animal whined and growled, but did not harm its rescuer. Heavy put it carefully on the vest, wrapping the loose material over the dog. He placed it in the shadow of the car and petted it’s head once more.
- Good boy. Be strong a little longer.
He turned to the tire, now flat and unusable. He searched for a spare in the trunk and finally, he found one. It didn’t take him long to replace the bad one. He glanced at the dog now and then, even gave it water, so the poor animal wouldn’t be more dehydrated than it already was. After the work was done, he took the dog and put it at the backseat, moving the TOP-SECRET briefcase to the front. He drove as fast as the company car allowed him to, and in 20 minutes he was back at the base. The one to welcome him was Scout, who was sitting at the porch and playing with his baseball.
- Yo, big guy! What took you so long? Everyone’s back already! - he shouted, standing up. Scout was, most definitely, the most annoying teammate Heavy had. He was a young, American boy, far too noisy and messy for him to like. When he looked back at his life, he saw a different young man in himself. Organized. Responsible. Basically, all the things that Scout wasn’t.
Heavy took the briefcase and practically shoved it into Scout’s arms.
- Take it to Spy.
- Why don’t you just do it, it’s your job - the boy tried handing it back to him, but Heavy was already holding a whining dog in his arms. - Hold on, is that a dog?
- Where is doktor? - he didn’t feel obliged to answer this unnecessary question. It was obviously a dog.
- In his lab…
Heavy nodded and walked right past the confused merc. He looked down at the animal and whispered calming words in Russian. Surprisingly, it got quieter after that. He went right into the ambulatory, not even knocking before entering. Medic was sitting by his desk, writing something down. Archimedes was sitting beside him, sleeping. When Heavy came in, the doctor looked at him and smiled softly.
- Vhat a surprise! - he exclaimed, putting down his pen. - How may I help you today, hm?
- I found something - the Russian stepped closer to the operating table and put the dog down, taking his vest back. Medic stood up and walked towards them, pulling his red gloves back on.
- A dog? Where did you find it? - he looked at the man curiously, raising one of his brows.
- On the road. Can you help him? - Heavy sounded a bit worried. In his own way, he grew attached to this helpless creature. It would be a shame if he gave it up now.
Medic examined the dog briefly and then patted it on the head. Not once have it growled or barked at the man, on the contrary, it was very willing to be checked. Almost as if it knew that the doctor was trying to help.
- Sure. It’s not zhe worst case. - Medic stretched. - Does it have a name?
- What?
- A name. I suppose you vant me to cure it so you can keep it, ja?
Heavy hasn’t thought of that yet. Keeping the dog? Here? He wasn’t sure. He never had a pet before, what if he couldn’t take proper care of it?
He looked in the dog’s eyes, for a second, and he decided. It was looking at him with such compassion he couldn’t resist but keep it.
- Aleksi. - he said.
- Aleksi? Does it mean somezhing? - Medic smiled and wrote the name on a “patient’s card”.
- Yes. Helper of man. I will train it - he crouched, so his face was on the same level as the dogs. - So it battles with us.
The doctor nodded and turned to a cabinet for disinfectants. He glanced briefly at Archimedes sleeping in his nest in a corner.
The bond between a man and his animal was as old as the world itself. A companion almost as needed as a familiar for a witch. It was a unique and beautiful relationship, going back to the day when men first tamed a wolf, not for meat, but for the simple need to have a trustful protector from harm.
The doctor took care of Aleksi, cleaned his wounds and fur lightly, found a broken leg and put it in a cast. The animal was put under anesthesia for this procedure, so Mecic could work freely. Heavy stayed with them for all this time, he was worried about his new companion’s health.
- He vill be okay, don’t worry - Medic took off his gloves and stroked clean, now even a little fluffy, fur. - He’s a beautiful one. It's good that you brought him here on time, he was barely alive...
- Barely alive. - he stood up from his chair and came closer to the operating table. Aleksi seemed peaceful, his chest was moving at a steady pace. It amazed him how quickly his life has been altered by this furry creature. Suddenly we wanted to take care of this dog more, than about anyone. Well, maybe less than his sisters and matushka, but still pretty close to that level. - … How… you made Archimedes like you?
Medic looked at the man funny like he was trying not to break out laughing.
- How did I… oh vell - he came back to his desk and sipped, now cold, coffee. - You zee, it just… stuck with me. I didn’t do anything particular. Archimedes felt safe around me and it was enough for him.
- … Safe. - Heavy nodded. He already rescued the dog from certain death, it shouldn’t be that hard to make it stay. He remembered Aleksi’s stare when he was taking him out of the ditch. So thankful and trusting, it was impossible to think that it would run away.
- Go rest a bit, Misha - doctor came back to his previous, interrupted, task.- And come back in the morning, you’ll be able to take Aleksi out of here.
- Thank you, doktor.
He left the ambulatory, not knowing what to do with himself now. It was already dark outside, the burning sun hid behind dunes, the warm sand releasing its heat into the cold night. The desert welcomed him today with a stale, harsh feeling of loneliness and isolation, and now, when he stepped into the refreshing air of the night, he felt left with a purpose other than making money. There was someone he had to take care of. Someone to keep him company, when the boundless feeling of emptiness took over his thoughts. He smiled, truly, really smiled. He looked upon the night sky and let the cold breeze caress his face. If a dog was man’s best friend, Heavy was sure, Aleksi would be the best one he could ever have.