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Chapter Text

Things had been tense on and off the field.  The team was nervous, especially Heavy. Ever since the incident, the one that had forced a ceasefire between RED and BLU for the last few days, there was a cloud of silent worry hanging over each of the team members heads.

Just a few days before, the team Medic had gone through respawn, something they all did at some point, but the machine’s mother board had maybe crashed, maybe glitched, something had happened anyway,  and when the German was spat back out of no man’s land, he had been confused, hostile, ready to fight his own team.  Someone, probably Spy or Engineer, had contacted the administration, and soon the Medic had been taken away for evaluation by a different doctor.

Today was the day that Medic was coming back.  

The base had received a letter telling them that despite the respawn glitch, the man was still battle-ready, and would be sent back to his former position.  A line or two on the paper had been crossed out, as if something else was going to be added to the note, but the writer had changed her mind, or been told not to.  

Having the Medic come back probably not only made the Administration happy, since they didn’t have to search for someone so dedicated to science to replace him, but also the team.  They had a small fondness for their team member, even as eccentric as he could be, and they didn’t have to deal with someone new or try to get used to a new person standing in the medi-bay.

When the Medic was brought back, the team was told to give him some space for a bit, to let him get readjusted to his space.  It had been two hours now and Heavy felt that the man should be plenty adjusted by now, and that he wouldn’t mind the Russian dropping by to say hello and get his Medic caught up on things.

Heavy knocked on the medic-bay door.  After a moment of silence, there was the familiar voice inside telling him that it was alright to enter.  Stepping inside, Heavy smiled, ready to get caught up with the German in more ways than one.

“Hello, Doktor,” Heavy greeted, waiting for the other man to finishing straightening up some papers and turn around.

Medic glanced behind him, a strangely stony look on his face.

“Ah,” Medic said as he lay the papers back down on the counter, on top of a clipboard, “The Heavy.”

His frigid words made the Russian’s blood run cold.

The Heavy?  The Heavy?  The Heavy?

That article had been dropped within two weeks of the team working together.  Medic hadn’t called him anything but his name when they were along together, not for the last five months.  Where had this sudden strict professionalism come from?

“Are you in need of assistance?” Medic continued, looking over the man with a slight frown, seemingly disappointed in either that there were no obvious injuries or disappointed in the person before him as a whole.

“No, Doktor, am not,” Heavy said, “Came by to talk and check on you.  Is everything alright?”

“Check on me?  I’m fine,” Medic said, calmly leaning back against the counter block behind him, “I had to put those birds away, nuisances, but I am alright.  Is there anything else you need?”

Before answering, Heavy glanced towards the corner of the room, where the rarely-used birdcage was, and saw the doctor’s birds sitting inside, peering out sadly.

“Nuisances?” Heavy asked, “Doktor, what is problem?  You are not acting right in the head.”

“Oh?  I’m not?” Medic said coolly, his voice indicating his disinterest, “But who are you to tell me zhat I’m not acting right?  How vould you even know?”

“Because we were very close,” Heavy said, “We were…partners on and off the battle.”

That seemed to grab Medic’s interest, but the look he gave showed that he wasn’t necessarily happy with the idea.

“Partners?  Off the field?  Are you implying-” Medic paused as Heavy gave a solemn nod, “We were…”

The Medic lapsed into silence, looking down as he tried to figure out what say now.  Heavy stepped forward, ready to offer the man whatever he needed.  Medic was obviously confused, a bit dazed, but he’d remember soon enough-

“What ever could I have seen in you?”

Heavy stopped in his tracks, caught completely off-guard, and his brow furrowed as he looked towards the slightly smaller man.

“You look like a good specimen.  Strong, sturdy, able to withstand much pain.  Vas zhat it?  Vas that why I tolerated our partnership?” Medic asked, his tone one of curiosity, not of cruel belittling, “We are in a war-zone, Herr Heavy, zhere is no time for romance.  Zhere is only time for healing and hurting, and you best hope you’re on the right end of my tools.  Now, I’m done talking nonsense, so you best leave me before you find yourself on the wrong end.“

Heavy turned to leave, shell-shocked by the events that had transpired.  As he reached the door, the Medic spoke once more.

“I vas told that my memory may come back, maybe in bits and pieces as I return to familiar areas.  Someday it might be back, perhaps.  Perhaps not.”  Medic said, the gentle sound of rustling papers joining his words, “You’re disappointed, you feel like you lost someone perhaps, I can understand that, but you need to understand this; what we vere doesn’t matter anymore.  Whatever we vere, whatever you though we vere, is now gone, Herr, and the sooner you realize zhat and move on, zhe better.”

Heavy looked back at the Medic, trying to keep a stiff upper lip despite the growing pain in his chest, and then spoke.

“Just because it is forgotten, does not mean it’s gone.  It is still in your head, even if it is buried now, you just need to find it again,” Heavy said, a frown ticking at his lips, “If Doktor needs any help digging, I will help.  If Doktor needs any help, I will be there.”

“I told you to go,” Medic said, hand sliding towards his saw, “Unless you wish to be a medical tool pincushion, you should leave me be.”

Before the Heavy left the Medic alone, before he ambled down the halls to inform the others about the team’s new situation, he uttered one last sentence, one last thought, that left the German befuddled.

“It was good to see you again, Doktor; welcome back.”

Chapter Text

The phone ringing next to her in the car wasn’t entirely unexpected, but Miss Pauling hadn’t expected this call to happen so soon.  Granted, the incident down at the RED team base had shaken up some people, and understandably so.  Before she picked up the phone, she already had a good idea of who was on the other end of the line.

“Pauling.” She said, keeping her eyes on the road, “What’s going on?”

“Is Heavy.” The man said, the receiver looking small in his hand.  He hated talking on the phone; he much preferred talking to people face to face, where he could see their faces and gauge expressions.  Over the phone, it was just a voice and nothing else.

He needed to make this call, though.  Just walking from the medi-bay to one of the base’s phone had taken a toll on his already bruised spirit.  It had made him feel tired, like he had been walking for six months instead of just sixty or so feet.

It was a call he had to make, though, to just see if there was a glimmer of hope to be found in this situation at all.

“Hey, big guy, what do you need?” She asked, brushing a loose piece of hair back behind her ear.  She could ask, but she already felt like she had a good idea what he was going to talk to her about.

“What happened to Medic?” He asked.  His voice was even, steady, but it was clear that he wanted to answers.

“The file was sent to your base,” She said, “Glitch in the system.  You all should have read that.”

“This is more than a glitch.” Heavy said, “It is more than a glitch to all of us.  You know this.”

“System failed for a bit.  You’re lucky the backup caught him,” She said, her hands gripping the steering wheel tighter, “Why are you calling me about it?”

“You know why I am calling.”

She knew.  She knew.  She knew why he was calling.  She knew what was going through his head right now.  They were her mercs, the team that she worked closet with, she knew for the most part what was going on with them when they called

She also knew that there wasn’t much that she could do.

“Guessing that you spoke with Medic?” She asked.  She didn’t need to hear his answer.

“Yes.”  He replied, “He has changed.  Why?”

“Backups reverted his memory to the original save, when he was first put into the system,” Pauling said, pulling on to the side of the desert road, “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

That phrase hurt to say, but it was the truth.  There wasn’t anything they could do about it now.  There may have been a chance to update the backup files prior to the incident, but now it was too late.  Updating those files for the mercs was now on the top of her to-do list, which meant that it was on top of Engineer’s to-do list as well, to prevent something like this from happening again.  

Now, though, it was too late.

“Is he gone?” Heavy asked, resisting the temptation to squeeze the receiver in frustration.  Breaking a phone wouldn’t help anyone.

“No, he respawned, Heavy.  He’s at your base now.” She replied as she held the boxy phone tightly between her head and shoulders, “Hold on, I need to get a body out of the trunk of my car.”

She was stalling, he knew that. She was stalling and she knew that he knew that.

“Is old doctor gone?” Heavy asked slowly, making sure that Pauling couldn’t deflect the conversation once again.  He wanted answers.

“As far as we can tell?  Yes,” Pauling said, grunting as she pulled the body out of the trunk and on to the ground, “Psychological analysis demonstrated similarity with answers first given at the start of his mercenary career.”

“Pauling.  Talk slower, please.  Can not understand you through all of hard breathing.“

“Sorry, Heavy, this guy’s a big one.  Some corporate bigwig we needed out of the way, emphasis on big.” Pauling replied, “I’d tell you more, but I would have to kill you.  Probably.  I’d rather not.”

“Then do not tell.  Just do job without talking about job,” Heavy said, “And then, once you have finished dragging corpse, talk slower.”

“Yeah, okay, just have to move him another thirty feet or so.  Hold on.”

The conversation dwindled down to the sound of quiet grunts from Pauling as she pulled a large, dead body along in the desert with the intent to bury and destroy all evidence that anyone, most likely herself, had been involved with a murder.  Basically, it was a typically Tuesday for her, and Heavy knew that if he wanted to talk with her, he was going to have to wait.

It was only after he heard a car trunk shut that she started talking to him again.

“According to the tests we ran, Medic’s mind had been taken back to when he first started his career with the RED team,” Pauling said, figuring out that Heavy probably needed her to simplify her words rather than talk slower.  English wasn’t Heavy’s first language, Russian was, and she needed to remember that.

“Has it replaced his mind?” Heavy asked, “Is everything he had…just gone?”

“His memories you mean?” Pauling asked, lugging an axe back over to the body, “Because his mind is still his, just his previous mind, if you get what I’m saying.”

“Yes, I understand.  Am talking about his memories,” Heavy confirmed, “Have those been removed forever?”

“Uh, I can’t confirm or deny that.” Pauling said, pausing before she started to lop off an arm.

“Because is sensitive information?”

“I should say that it is, yes,” Pauling said, “But, honestly, I just don’t know.  None of the people back at the HQ did.”

“You don’t know?” Heavy asked slowly, just to be sure.

“No one does.” Pauling said, grunting as she swung the axe down, “Medic is the first case of Respawn induced amnesia that we’ve ever seen.”

“Amnesia?”

“Yeah, memory loss-”

“Know what amnesia is,” Heavy said quickly, “Miss Pauling?  Can ask you something?”

“Yes?” She asked as gently as she could while hacking the body’s head off, “Go ahead.”

“What do you think happened to Medic?” Heavy asked, “What happened to his head?”

“You want my opinion?” Pauling said, “I think his mind’s been overridden.”

“Meaning?”

“The newer memories he had have been dominated by the old ones,” She said, using terminology Heavy was familiar with.

“But are they gone forever?”

“I’m not the one to ask.  Medic would be, but you can’t ask him,” Pauling said slowly, leaving her axe in the man’s leg, “My gut says that they’re not gone for forever forever. They’re just buried right now.”

“Still in his head?”

“Yeah, still there, but they’re caught underneath the respawned ones, it may very well be possible to bring them to the surface,” Pauling said, pausing to wipe at her brow, “I mean, that’s just my opinion on it, I can’t promise you anything.  Going by how it happened, with respawn glitching the way it did and sporadically pulling from the backup code, that’s just me guessing.”

“Is promising guess,” Heavy said, “How would they be brought to the surface?”

“Most likely by putting him in familiar situations.  Him being back on the base is a good start.  The ceasefire end tomorrow, so that should help too,” She said, yanking the axe back out of the body, “Maybe a deja vu feeling will help spark something in his head.  I really don't know.”

“Have been good help, Miss Pauling,  thank you-”

“I know why you're asking, Heavy, and I really am sorry for you, and him, and how I can't do more.”

“What are you-”

“Technically, that type of fraternization is frowned upon,” She told him, “But you, him, and the team, were doing well enough that we could overlook it. “

“You knew about...us?”

Yes.  But results are what matter to the higher up.  As long as your results are good, and you don't hurt the team's performance in anyway, the rules can be bent,” Pauling said, “I'm telling you this because, though I know you're a careful man, you want to avoid throwing off the team's chemistry on the field.  Otherwise, some sort of intervention might have to be had.”

“I understand, Miss Pauling,” Heavy said, “Would never want to hurt team or doktor.”

“I know you wouldn't, big guy.  You're a smart cookie, though, and I hope you find a way to make things work out,” Pauling said, heading back to the car, “Anything else you want to talk about right now?”

“No, Miss Pauling.  Thank you,” Heavy said, “Will not distract you from job anymore.”

“Hey, don't worry about it.  Scout calls me all the time too, but that's usually to just flirt.  I'm just here to help in any way I can, even if it's not much at all,” Pauling said, “Call me up if you have anything else to ask.  And, Heavy?  Good luck.”

There was a quiet click as she hung up her end of the phone, and Heavy silently returned the receiver to its proper place.  

He had been hoping for better news, but what he had received was not terrible.  There was still a chance that he could help get his Medic back, he'd just have to approach it carefully so as to not anger the other man.

But hearing that his memories might still be in his head, and not wiped away forever, gave Heavy just the faintest sliver of hope.  And right now, hope was what he needed.

Chapter Text

By the time that Heavy had finished his call, dinner was being started.  Though there were a thousand other things the Russian would rather be doing, he had to go to the kitchen.   Tonight he had promised Engineer that he would help the man with dinner, to make up for the times he had missed during the respawn fiasco.

When Heavy finally made it to the kitchen, Engineer had already started making the meal by himself.

“Hello, Engineer,” Heavy said, making his surprisingly quiet presence known.

The Texan turned to look at him, peering over his shoulder at the other man.

“Howdy, Heavy, glad you decided to show,” Engineer teased, but his smile fell when he saw the look on the Russian’s face, “Why the long face?”

“Have you spoken to Medic?” Heavy asked,  taking a spot at the counter.

“Spoken to?  No.  But I did read the file that told us something was up with him,” Engineer said, “Is it really that bad?”

“Worse.”

“Worse?” The Texan asked slowly, “How bad is it?”

“Bad.”

“I get that, Heavy, but help me out here,” Engineer said, “On a scale of one to ten,  how bad?”

“Respawn induced amnesia.”

“Well, alright, that ain't a number, but that's definitely not good,” Engineer said,  “At least a fifteen on the scale. “

“Da.”

“How much has he forgotten?”

“Everything since he was first in system.”

Engineer let out a low whistle.

“That explains why Pauling’s been ringing me up about updating things.” Engineer said, “What's he like then?  Confused?”

“Hostile.” Heavy said, “On-guard.”

“Can't blame him for that,” Engineer said,  “He's gotten thrown back into the deep end, and he doesn't know anyone here now. He’s probably gonna be on-guard until he feels comfortable.  Knowing Doc, that'll probably take a while.”

“If respawning broke his mind, could it fix it too?” Heavy asked, “What if he goes through system ungliched?”

“Now that's a hard question.” Engineer said, “It's hard to say.  Respawn’s a complicated system.  It ain't as cut and dried as you're hoping.”

“Please answer question.” Heavy said.

“It's a hard question to answer, Heavy.  All I can give you is a solid maybe.” Engineer sighed, “I could go into detail about why it may or may not work, but I have a feelin’ you'd rather I didn't. “

“Yes.  Would just be confusing,” The Russian grudgingly admitted, “So we just have to wait and see?”

“Exactly.” The man said, “Ain't nothing else we can do right now.”

For the next few minutes, the conversation dwindled to almost nothing,  save for making sure they were on the same page about dinner.

“Should probably tell the rest of the fellas about this, so none of them end up getting stuck with a saw.” Engineer said, “Probably gonna have to put a hold on that dispenser update we were thinking about too.”

“Definitely tell others,” Heavy said, “Doktor will stab someone if they annoy him now.  Not before, but now he will.”

“Definitely need to tell Scout, then,” Engineer said, “He liked to pop by to play with Docs birds, so I'd rather he didn't find out that he needs to stop for a bit the hard way.”

“Da.” Heavy said, “I will make sure birds are taken care of.”

“Won't Medic take care of them? “

“I am not sure he will.”

“Shiet, he really did get scrambled in the system, didn't he?”

“Yes.  Just hope that we can scramble him back.”

“Me too, Heavy,” Engineer slowly said, “Me too.”

Unfortunately,  Engineer didn't get the chance to let many of the others know just how bad Medic’s situation was.  Pyro followed their nose to the kitchen and the Texan had to hang around and keep an eye on them while dinner was finishing up.

By the team Pyro had busied themselves in a way that didn't involve setting whatever food they could grab on fire, dinner was done and some of the team had arrived at the table, Medic included.

From the Scout was chatting with Medic, it appeared that the boy had reminded him about dinner.

And from the annoyed look on Medic’s face, it appeared that he was quickly growing tired of Scout’s prattle.

“And you would not believe how boring it’s been around here,” Scout was saying, “Everyone’s been all mopey and stuff.”

“Have they?” Medic asked, his patience wearing thin, “Delightful.”

“Yeah, everyone’s-” Scout was cut off by Engineer grabbing his shoulder, “Hey, Engie.”

“Son, would you come help me carry the food to the table?” Engineer said, guiding the boy to the kitchen, “Give the Medic a moment ta’ breathe, okay?”

If the Texan had been hoping for a chance to talk with Scout about the situation, he didn’t get one.  Scout moved quickly, picking up two plates of food and taking them back to the table, intent on picking his conversation back up where he had left it.  Unfortunately for him, Medic had already found a seat that was occupied on both sides, by Spy and Heavy by the time he got back.

The man had wanted a seat on the edge, so he would only have to have someone sit on one side of him, but, since the end seats were taken by the Sniper, the Spy, the Demoman, and the Pyro.  Sitting as close to the end as he could would have to do.

He didn’t really want to sit next to the Heavy, not after the conversation he had had earlier, but if there was anything he knew, it was that the Russian was less talkative than the Scout.  After all of that endless chatter the boy seemed to supply, sitting next to a wall of silence would be wonderful.

Except the Heavy wasn’t as silent as he was hoping.  

Heavy hadn’t planned on being silent tonight.  He was going to talk with the others.  Not with Medic directly, no, but with the others.  He talked about about the past matches, the type of strategy that they needed to try to employ in the next fight, and other things.

“We should rush them next fight.  All of us.  Even you, you camping kangaroo,” Soldier proudly declared, receiving a sneer from Sniper, “We’ll show those BLUs that we’re not scared of them, especially now that we’re a whole team again.”

“You gonna Uber me?” Scout asked Medic, eyebrows waggling as he signalled his joke to the other man.

“Of course not,” Medic replied bluntly, giving the boy a stern look, “Unless in absolute duress, with no other options available, a Scout is on the low end of the priority list of Uber targets.  You should know this, dummkopf.”

The doctor’s words weren’t filled with the affectionate teasing that the team had come to know and love.  There were rife with malice and scorn, complete with an ice cold glare.

His reaction caught Scout completely off-guard, causing the boy to lean back and nervously laugh.

“Uh, you were supposda’ say that you’d rather Uber Archimedes or something like that,’ Scout said, “I know why you’ve never ubered me, Doc, but what was up with that?  You forget that we just, like, play this game thing sometimes or what?”

“Archimedes?” Medic asked, regret instantly showing on his face the moment he asked.

“Your bird?” Scout said slowly, “The one that likes to rest in people’s chests?  The one you had to get out of my chest after you sealed her in?”

The confusion that blossomed on Medic’s face caught the others attention, and thrust the German into the spotlight.  He glanced around, like he was more looking for an exit than he was looking at the others.

“Mate, are you feelin’ alright in the head?” Sniper asked slowly.  The look on his face was synonymous with the ones on the most of the team, save for the Heavy and the Engineer.

“We saw the file, it talked about some memory problems, but it didn’t say anything this bad,” Demoman said with a slight shake of his head, “Laddie, you, ah, needing any help with anything?“

“No.” Medic replied coldly, “I’m lacking a bit in the memory department.  That doesn’t make me an invalid.”

“You could have brainwashed by the enemy!” Soldier accused, slamming a hand down on the table, “How do we know you’re not a spy?”

“He’s not,” Spy said, “He is indeed our Medic.  Leave the man alone.”

“I will not leave the man alone until he proves that he is not a spy!” Soldier growled, glaring down at the Frenchman on the corner before glaring at the German on the other side of the table, “If you’re not a spy, then tell me what battle plan two point three point America is?”

The look on Medic’s face was unimpressed, and teetering on disappoint.

“Did you miss the part where my memory has been?-”

“Just answer the question!”

“We rush the field?” Medic tried, attempting to interpret Spy’s subtle motions.

“And?” Soldier asked.

“We win?” Medic asked tiredly.

“You're missing a step, kraut,” Soldier said, “What's step two?”

“Can't you just leave me be?”

“That's exactly what a spy would say!” Soldier barked.

Pyro sighed and pulled a lighter out of their suit, contenting themself with the flames.  They didn’t like all of this fighting and yelling.

“On the contrary, a spy would know the plan,” Spy said, trying to give the poor Medic a break, “Our Medic, who's suffering from memory problems, would not.”

“You do raise an excellent point,” Soldier said, hand rubbing at his chin, “But!  How would he have remembered the first step if he's a maniac?”

“Soldier, you mean an amnesiac,” Engineer said as he tried to comfort Pyro, adding under his breath, “The only maniac here is you.”

“Because Spy told him the first step,” Scout said, wanting to get this whole thing over with, “Because we just want you to shut up, Captain Ameridurr.”

“You dare slander the word America?” Soldier said, attempting to shoot upright in his seat, but instead catching his thighs on the table and having to sit down again, “You come over here and fight me like a man.”

Jane, for the love of God would ya’ just give all of this a rest?” Demo said, “We’ve all had a rough time bein’ without Medic.  Please don’t make us all have to suffer with a rough time with him.”

“I am protecting this team, you one-eyed Scotsman,” Soldier all but shouted, “Don’t you understand that this would be the prime opportunity to slip something, or someone, past our lowered defenses.”

“Sol, just eat your dinner or I swear to God I ain’t gonna be makin’ any pecan pies for a month.” Engineer threatened.

“I will not-!”

“Engie, no, you can’t do that to the rest of us,” Scout whined, “Why punish us because Soldier is bein’ an idiot?  That’s not fair!”

“I am not being an idiot-!”

“Jane, would ye’ jus’ sit your ass down and shut up?” Demo said, tugging the man back down into his seat.

“Soldier, now is time to be quiet,” Heavy said, finally having enough of this, “This is our Medic.  He is back with team-”

“Schweigen!  I am very tired of everyone trying to speak up for me.  I can handle myself,” Medic huffed, standing up and stepping away from the table, “I pity the man who ends up on my gurney tomorrow.  Good night.”

Soldier opened his mouth and pointed a finger to the sky, as if he was about to give the German a parting message, but Demo socked him and effectively silenced him before he could add any more fuel to the fire he had ignited.  Tonight had already been a disaster; it didn’t need to be made any worse with a moronic parting line.

Everyone slowly started to leave the table, leaving Soldier, more likely Engineer, with dish duty.  Heavy glanced back towards the doors, and slowly started to follow, but a hand stopped him.

“Leave him be,” Demo said, “You follow him right now?  You’re gonna get hurt.”

“I am built for pain.” Heavy replied simply, “Can take it.”

“Jus’ give him a break tonight.  He asked not to be coddled.  Don’t go runnin’ ta’ try to kiss his booboos,” Demo told him, “I think that he’d much rather have some quiet to try ta’ sort himself out, you know?”

“I understand,” Heavy agreed reluctantly, “Will leave him alone tonight.”

“Good, good,” Demo said slowly, “But, uh, if you’re still willing ta’ be a pain magnet for the team, then you either want ta’ go in to the medibay first or last after the fight.  If there’s anything we know about the man, it’s that he can, and will, hold a grudge, and he’ll take it out on those unfortunate enough ta’ cross his path.”