Chapter Text
The cold of the winter-front base they're stationed on is worse than Coldfront, bitter chills seeping into the skin and chilling bones. They just spent their first night after their long trip, bodies still accustomed to their main base back in Teufort. Heavy is the only member who understands what bitterness comes with cold, and though he has spent years being stationed in the American deserts he can appreciate finally being back in his element. He feels pity for those who are not built for it, like Sniper or Engineer. He remembers sending them sympathetic glances even before they were sent out, knowing that they were underestimating the intensity of the situation.
This base is an outlier in their typical stations because it is an outlier in their typical job rotation. Instead of fighting over gravel, fighting robots, or hunting Australium, they have been outsourced to a private research facility in Antarctica. For what reason? None of the mercenaries know. Heavy suspects that Spy will be the first to know, because he has a knack for asking questions even when it isn't his job, but Heavy himself is not one for useless questions. He has been hired as a guard, so he will do his best to stay in his role. He was given a pitifully thing folder of information about this job. He knows that each member got different information as well, because he remembers how thick the Engineer and Medic's folders had been in comparison.
The bonus for this job is not insubstantial. They will be receiving twice the amount they usually do for the months that they are here, either to repay them for withstanding the cold or because there truly is something dangerous here. Heavy didn't ask about it, accepting the job and the money with the same stoicism that he has approached all of his mercenary work with. Different members approached the job differently. Medic has been in good spirits since they received the job, packing away supplies for whatever role he was to perform. Engineer, as well, packed away many of his trinkets for the journey. Members more-so in Heavy's line of work, however, had little to do to prepare. Soldier, for example, spent his last few days sitting his collection of heads inside to keep them safe. Demo spent his final night at base drunk, mumbling about chemical configurations that he was planning for the trip. None of them disclosed to the others what their assignments were, as per the folder's specifications. Heavy's own wasn't too much to spill, even so. He was to patrol the base with Sasha, keeping a periodic check-in of his fellow mercenaries that he was to write down after ever round.
Heavy is in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the rest of the team. It's well-stocked for the month long mission, even with the dents that the researchers put into it before they arrived. Heavy always makes breakfast, because he rises early and doesn't have a habit of setting anything on fire. Typically when he's cooking Sniper makes himself known, brewing a pot of coffee before absconding back to his camper. Sometimes he talks to Heavy, little bits of conversation while the pot is spitting. Today, it seems, Heavy will be alone for a while longer than usual. Sniper is typically up with the sun, though there is no sun to wake with here. He starts up a pot just in case Sniper, or anyone, comes along needing some extra warmth.
The station is very quiet. The dribbling of the pot and sizzling of Heavy's skillet are all the organic noises happening. The hum of technology provides decent white noise, though it is very different from the silence of his own childhood home. The screeching wind and rustling trees would accompany him there, the chirping of birds or the occasional passing bear. Deep within this base there is nothing except the inorganic silence of man-made shelter, the kind that shuts out nature in its entirety. Heavy would much prefer the home he had, with his mother and sisters, than this. The unloving chrome walls and steel floors contrast with the fireplace and familiar wood walls that he associates with the cold. But his sisters are happy in other places now, and his mother is in a new home that Heavy bought her. He wonders if Zhanna, also deep within this base, feels the same dissonance between the familiar and unfamiliar while being here.
"Good, god, fuckin' hell." Someone mumbles, voice raspy, from the hall. Whoever it is has walked up near-silently, startling Heavy enough to make him jerk around. Heavy feels glad he started the pot when he did, because Sniper is dragging his entire comforter behind him as he enters the kitchen. Heavy allows himself to relax and go back to the food. "This shit is fuckin' bullocks." Sniper looks ridiculous, snuggled beep in his blanket while it trails behind him like a cape. He's shivering even with it. Heavy hopes that his assignment has him indoors.
"Coffee?" Heavy asks, flipping the bacon. He has become very accustomed to American style breakfasts, thanks to the Engineer. "It will help keep you warm." Heavy points to the coffee maker, which is almost finished filling the pot.
"I'd kiss you if it meant I didn't have to get from under this blanket." Sniper mutters, shuffling over to the coffee. Heavy reaches over and pulls a thermos from a cabinet, holding it out for Sniper. He has a moment to look bashful, but heavy understands. His entire though process is taken up by wanting to be warm, so common sense sometimes escapes. "Thanks. Shoulda grabbed that myself." Sniper's hand creeps out from under the blanket, covered in his work-shirt and a knitted sweater. The moment he has it, his hand is gone again.
"Is no problem." Heavy pulls some of the bacon off, knowing that some members prefer it different ways. The Engineer's bacon stays on a little longer, going a bit black in places. Heavy does not understand why someone would want their food partly burned, but he respects their wishes.
"Ah God, fuck, damn." Sniper hisses, jumping a bit. He stumbles in his blanket and catches himself on the counter, but not before the blanket itself slips off his shoulder. "Aw fuck!" Sniper lets himself fall to the cold floor and scrambles to get the blanket back over himself. He ends up in a shivering heap, his entire lanky body shoved into the blanket.
"Are you okay?" Heavy turns and raises an eyebrow. He reaches down and pulls Sniper up by the arm, the man dangling while clutching the thermos and blanket to himself. He looks spooked for a moment, like he'd forgotten that Heavy would see him, then forces his expression to drop. He isn't as good as Spy at hiding his expressions, however. Sniper is actually rather bad at it, so his embarrassment still shines through.
"Hot coffee." Sniper says to explain, then stands up himself. He averts his eyes and turns, walking out like nothing happened. "Thanks for the coffee." He says. Now that Heavy is paying attention he can hear the near-silent steps as they retreat, probably back to his bed.
It takes a while longer for anyone else to rise. Heavy has the entire team's breakfast done long before anyone wakes. The lack of a sunrise, Heavy thinks, throws everyone off. The time zone difference doesn't help. Heavy has enough time to eat his own breakfast and begin reading, letting himself relax before his shift starts at noon. He's sitting at the table, comically small compared to himself and only big enough for five people. His book is just beginning to get interesting when Engineer comes in, rubbing at his eyes with his goggles around his neck. He's ready other than that, but his steps are groggy and his eyes aren't focused. He's also layered an extra jacket and scarf over everything, making his small form almost drown. Heavy finds it amusing, though he probably looks ridiculous in his own coat.
"Howdy, big fella. Didn't mean to sleep in on ya." The Engineer pats Heavy's shoulder as he goes by, eyeing the coffee pot and the breakfast left out. "How long've you been up, son? I'd almost guess you didn't even sleep in." The Engineer grabs a thermos for himself, turning the pot on to heat the coffee back up. he grabs a few pieces of his burnt bacon and toast, shoveling it all in haphazardly as he sits down at the table across from Heavy. He lays a clipboard on the table, which has a few sheets of loose paper and his folder pinned to it. He flips through his folder for a second, scanning the words as quickly as Heavy does when he's reading in Russian. The words on Engineer's paper would take much longer for him to decode, if he had any interest in doing so.
"Everyone sleeping in. No need for apology." Heavy says simply, looking back down at his book. He's very used to stints without conversation. With many members of the team, Heavy can get along fine with long silences. His companionship with his team has lead him to be very comfortable around them, for better or worse. Engineer in particular has gained a lot of Heavy's respect, even though Heavy knows that the man has many secrets.
"Wish I hadn'ta slept in. Got a lot on the itinerary today." Engineer sighs. "You seen Medic? Me and him were supposed to be meetin' up before we really got goin' today." Engineer taps a pencil on the table, not looking up despite asking a question. He's deep in thought, thinking about what he needs to do. Heavy is almost glad for the easier job, despite how repetitive he knows it will get. Engineer has to think about what he will do, and asses risks. All Heavy has to do is shoot his big gun and walk around.
"Have not seen Doctor yet." Heavy says. "You will have to go wake him." Heavy knows the Doctor enough to know that he won't be conscious for a while, if he actually went to sleep. Medic had been on the walls in the days before their flight, stuck in a manic state due to his affinity for whatever project they were ramping up for. If he managed to get to sleep last night, he would be asleep until his body caught up on what he missed.
"Ah, hell. Of all the days he chooses to get some sleep, he chooses this one." Engineer roles his eyes as he stands, affixing his goggles into place. He shuffles his papers back into neatness before he tries going for the exit.
"Do not forget Coffee." Heavy reminds him. Engineer stops in his tracks, plucking his thermos and filling it with re-heated coffee.
"Thank you kindly, Heavy. Ya'll have a nice day, see ya 'round." Engineer nods as he leaves, coffee in one hand and clipboard in the other. Heavy nods back, looking up to the clock as he hears Engineer's footsteps echo. It's nearly noon, so Heavy slides his book into his breast pocket and stands.
His route is set in stone, outlined on the map that they provided for him. The nine mercenaries are not the only ones on base, as they are accompanied by four researchers who arrived only a few days before they did. They are the first people that Heavy runs into, as his first stop is a small lab on the very outskirts of the base. When he knocked on the door there was shuffling on the other side, a few hushed whispers, and a moment on silence before it creaked open.
"Oh, hello!" One of the researchers says as she pops out of the door. She looks down the hallway where Heavy came, as if expecting someone to be with him. "You must be the Heavy Weapons Specialist, right?" She eyes his gun before looking him in the face, nervousness fighting with her friendly tone.
"Yes. Please, call me Heavy." He insists, but doesn't make any friendly gestures aside from that. His protocol was very specific in that he was not to step into any of the labs unless necessary, so. "Everything good?" Heavy asks, pointedly not looking into the lab itself.
"Heavy, okay. And yes! Everything is fine." She assures him, holding up a hand. "Do you happen to know where the, uh, two of you who are joining us are?" She asks even through her clear discomfort. Heavy cannot blame her, because he is a huge strong man who rarely smiles.
"I do not know who is joining you." Heavy answers her, looking down the hall from where he came. He can guess at who she's talking about, given that only a few members of their team know their way around a lab, but he doesn't want to make assumptions. Or, at least, he doesn't want to make assumptions in front of them.
"Ah, right." She looks like she just remembered something. When he looks back she looks away, awkwardly putting a hand to the back of her neck. "Well, I should get back to work. Thank you for the check-up, see you again." She waves him off with a tight smile, closing the door.
Heavy moves on. The base is filled with boxes and posers, some of which are clearly scientific and others which are more personal. Motivation posters for people who stay here for years, it seems. Heavy passes by one hallway that, on his map, leads to a storage room. He is not scheduled to go there, so he continues forward. The next door he passes, though, requires a check-up. He knocks.
Nobody answers the door, so he pushes in. As per instructed, any rooms that are not marked labs are safe for him to enter. This room is a communications room, empty sans equipment. There are computer monitors with wire sticking to the walls, riding up them into the ceiling. There are microphones and speakers, a chunky pair of headphones hung for whoever is meant to be here. Heavy observes for a moment, then decides that whoever is supposed to be here is simply not awake yet. He backs out and closes the door. As he continues, there is a ruckus from down the hall.
"C'mon, Doc." He hears the Engineer say as the round a corner, bumping his elbow on a ragged Medic. Engineer is much more chipper than he had been in the cafeteria, but the man at his heels looks like he's been dragged through hell. "Oh, and look! There's Heavy." Engineer nudges Medic again, smiling bright. Heavy waves at them, and when Medic's eyes crawl upwards to look his expression actually does brighten. A small, exhausted smile, but a smile nontheless.
"Hello, mein Heavy." Medic's expression is a lot softer when he look at Heavy, though the bags under his eyes speak to his actual mood. His face then scrunches and he pinches his nose, grumbling. "Scheisse." He whispers to himself, but he's close enough now to Heavy that he hears. Engineer rolls his eyes, patting his friend on the back.
"That's what you get for jumpin' wall to wall for three days straight." Engineer sighs, then looks back to his papers.
"I tell Doctor to get sleep before trip." Heavy pats his Doctor on the shoulder, smiling. "Scientists are looking for you." Heavy informs them. He jabs his thumb behind him, in the direction of the lab, and Medic jolts up.
"Auch! Gott, I forgot that other people were relying on us." Medic laughs, pushing his ruffled hair back in an attempt to look more put together. "It's been so long since I've worked with anyone else! I will see you later, Heavy!" Medic says, then speeds past Heavy. Engineer pauses as Medic's retreating form, likely remembering the same thing Heavy is. They share a look before Engineer saunters after, leaving Heavy with a pat on the shoulder.
The warm feelings at the sight of his doctor left at the memory of his betrayal. Well, betrayal might be the wrong word. Medic was hired to work with them, then he was fired and hired by someone else. It is not a betrayal if they had no connection, if they were simply co-workers who split ways. Their friendship, at the cusp of something else before they were all fired, had been put on hiatus when they left. The few letters they had been able to send in those months apart had been personal, filled with the same cusping relationship that they had on base, but Heavy could not send but one every month. If he could have, he would have sent more, but putting his family on the line was not something Heavy ever intended to do.
Heavy's footsteps echo through the halls. He's the biggest on the team, the loudest in many ways. He commands himself in a way that makes him hard to ignore. He passes by another empty room, this one fitted as a boiler room with security monitors to the side. Again, there must be a slumbering member of his team slacking in their duties.
The time alone, wandering, allows heavy to really think about it. The other team, who stole away Medic for the sake of killing them. Medic had always been a wild man, in Heavy's eyes. Unpredictable in action but always familiar in persona. He would poke through your chest with the same careless attitude that he applies to chess. Yet he watched a member of their team die, still aligning himself with those who killed him. Sniper, who he had watched stumble his way from the kitchen in a fluffy blanket.
He also brought back Sniper, despite not needing to. In fact, he brought him back to the chagrin of his employers. Heavy doesn't hold it against him, he treats him the same as he did before. If he were in Medic's position, he wonders if he would have done the same. He certainly didn't mind beating the man who hurt Medic, and he took pleasure in knowing that Medic would choose to defect back to them. But would he be able to kill members of this team? Maybe back then he would have, but now? He doesn't think he could. Medic didn't actually shoot any of them, sure, but... Heavy pushes the thoughts aside.
The next room is inhabited, but off to the side. Down a narrow hallway and up a set of steep stairs, Heavy finds Sniper curled around his gun. He's got a few jars already set up, and he's got a chair set up next to the window. He flinches when he hears the door creak open, flicking around to point his gun at Heavy's head. When he notices who it is he immediately shifts back to position, gaze off at the endless snow outside.
"Sorry, mate. Force'a habit." Sniper mumbles, taking a deep breath.
"No worries." Heavy looks around the small, bare room. There's hardly any protection from the cold, and Sniper has carried his duvet up with him. In his chair he is dwarfed by the blanket. "Is cold here." Heavy comments.
"Yeah it is. Freeze my toes off at this rate." Sniper gripes, eyes still on the horizon. "I've gotta spend ten hours of the day staring at snow while freezing by balls off. What a job." Sniper chuckles lowly, breath coming out in puffs.
"If I find heater, I will bring it." Heavy nods, turning away.
"Ah, you don't gotta do that, mate. I'll live." Sniper tries to protest, but Heavy has already walked from the room. He's off down these puny stairs with his giant gun, trying to keep it from knocking at the walls.
It's been five years, since they were re-hired by Miss. Pauling. Given miscellaneous missions that she contracts them for, they've stuck together. Before it felt more like an obligation that they stay together, but now Heavy doesn't think he would prefer to live somewhere else. Maybe he would like to be close to the big home his mother lives in now, or maybe he would like to settle out of mercenary work when it comes to be his time, but he has changed the language for this team in his head. No longer are they individual mercenaries set to a single job by coincidence, but a group of friends who work together by choice. Heavy, in his little home hiding away from everything that could hurt his family, has never had friends like this before.
He passes by Spy as he goes toward the communications room, nodding a greeting as they go their separate ways. Pyro is headed that way as well, strolling with a skip in her step. He waves enthusiastically, wearing his bulky suit with a knitted sweater over it. She's carrying her flamethrower proudly, humming as she moves through the halls. Heavy waves back.
The chrome of the walls of the dormitories and accompanying kitchen are much worse than the old, fading paint of the walls of the rest of the base. It serves as a nice contrast, the new technology mingling with the feeling of a crumbling base. Even the floors here are wooden, like it's been years since this half of the base got touched. Modern building principles not yet in place, they were able to build someone a bit more homely. But as Heavy gets closer to the dorms, the construction becomes more cold. He comes to a diverging hall, where one way goes toward the dorms and the other way goes toward the recreation room. He casts a glance toward the dorms, looking to see if anyone is coming. The hall is empty, so he goes down to see the recreation room.
It's the biggest room in the building, fitted with a larger kitchen table and several games to pass the time. One of the tables has a game of solitaire already in progress, Soldier scratching his chin as he places the cards without care. Heavy has no doubt that he has no clue how the game works, but he tries to beat it with enthusiasm anyway. Demo and Scout are at a ping-pong table, arguing. Heavy steps in, laying Sasha at the door.
"Hey, Heavy, tell Demo how the fuck ping-pong works." Scout waves Heavy over, eyebrows drawn together. When Heavy stands over him, he begins flailing about as he tries to explain. "Look, you hit the ball and if it bounces on the table you're out. Then I get the point. Then if it bounces on the table I also get the point." Scout makes a show of hitting the ball straight at Demo, hitting him in the chest.
"Lad, the ball's suppose ta hit the table. It's called table tennis for a reason." Demo hits the ball correctly, making it bounce once on Scout's side. "What's the point'a the table if the ball dinnae hit it?" Demo asks, rolling his eyes.
"The table is there to catch the ball if we don't hit it right, booze-for-brains." Scout rears back as if he were holding his bat, sending the ball flying across the room. The ball hits the wall with a quiet tink, bouncing off and rolling back to the table. "You guys fuckin' suck at games, man, I'm slaughterin' all'a ya." Scout brags, throwing the paddle on the table.
"I never play ping pong. I do not know rules." Heavy can't keep the small smile off of his face, watching as Scout stretches with a wheeze. His arms fall limp back at his sides with a loud, obnoxious groan. He wanders over to a tattered couch and falls on it head first. "This base fuckin' blows." Scout gripes into the cushions, one arm over his head and the other dangling off the side.
"Day one and he's already stir crazy." Demo shakes his head. "Guessin' you already got your first round over wit, aye?" Demo lays his paddle down, waving Heavy over to the long table. Demo sits and leans his chair back, throwing back a beer as he throws his feet onto the table. Heavy leaves a chair between them as he sits, crossing his arms.
"Yes. Nothing is happening." Heavy sighs. He can't help but relate to Scout's anguish. Their jobs are action packed, typically, so having this much downtime is foreign. Heavy is a man who takes pride in working, not in sitting around. "Base has nothing." Heavy looks over at Soldier, who has run out of cards to lay on the table.
"Tell me about it. All they've got is this pissy American water." Demo motions with the beer in his hand, scowling at it before taking another drink. "Next thing I know I'm gonna be sober. Lord help us." Demo's head falls back.
"Do you not have work?" Heavy asks. Soldier is making noise as he tries to shove all the cards back into the box.
"Aye, I do got work to be doin' eventually, but I got nothin' to do until those scientists need me." Demo raises the bottle and chugs the rest of the beer, slamming the bottle back on the table once it's empty. "Some shite about chemical balances. Not exactly my realm of expertise, but it's close enough that I might do some good." Demo sighs and puts his arms behind his head. His chair is precarious in its balance, on the very cusp of falling.
"Do you not work with chemical all the time?" Heavy asks, knowing his tirades about what he puts into his grenades.
"Only explosive ones!" Demo laughs, patting Heavy on the shoulder. "I'd be much better at levelin' the place than helpin' with whatever they need me for, but I ain't complainin'." Demo shrugs. Soldier takes this moment to make himself known, marching around the table and taking a seat across from Heavy and Demo. He holds the pack of cards proudly in his hands, laying them on the table between the three of them.
"Men! I am bored and not yet required for duty!" Soldier pulls cards out of their pack again, some of them obviously crumpled from Soldier's terrible attempt to put them back inside. They are still playable, however. "I challenge you to Go Fish!" Soldier begins giving them cards, not waiting for an answer.
"Where is Zhanna?" Heavy asks, picking up his cards. It isn't like her to be sleeping at this hour, but Heavy knows that she was also given an assignment for this mission. Ever since they were re-hired by Pauling, she has been treated as a member of the team. Heavy isn't so sure he approves, but he supports his sisters decisions. She is strong, and smart, and has proven herself a valuable member of the team.
"She went outside!" Soldier picks up his cards.
"Hold on, you playin' Go Fish? Aw, hell yeah!" Scout hops up from the couch and leaps over the table, sitting next to Soldier so hard that he almost tips his chair over. "Deal me in, helmet-head." Scout settles in with a smirk as Soldier deals him in.
"You let Zhanna go outside by herself?" Heavy quirks an eyebrow, looking over his cards. He can feel a bubble of anger welling up, that same protective feeling that always comes when he perceives danger aimed at his sisters.
"Was she supposed to ask first?" Soldier asks, placing the extra stack of cards in the middle of the table. He picks up his cards and leans into them, turning them away from Scout.
"Why did she go outside?" Heavy sighs, picking up his own cards. He supposes she didn't need to ask anyone permission, or have a supervisor with her as she went outside. If anyone other than himself is prepared for the cold, it would be her.
"I don't know!" Soldier smiles, slamming down a pair of threes. "Go Fish!" He yells proudly. Scout hides a chuckle behind his hand, throwing down his own pair of fours. This is the one card game they can ever all agree too. The rules are simple and it lasts less than an hour. Typically they would also play UNO, but the deck for that is locked in one of Medic's suitcases to make sure they don't play unsupervised.
"I see." Heavy puts down a pair of jacks. "Do you know where I find heater?"