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It was pouring outside of RED base.
It’s always raining when things like this happen.
Earlier in the morning, Medic knew something was off the moment he realized it was raining and the cooing of a dove in particular seemed quieter. Silent, actually. He couldn’t hear Archimedes at all. He couldn’t hear familiar wings flapping, nothing perched on his shoulder, no cooing or any noises at all when he brought out food.
That feeling of wrongness was realized when he saw his beloved bird dead on his operating table. Cold, laying on his side, dead for at least a few hours.
Medic checked the bird three times. Then he slapped himself thrice, in an attempt to wake himself up. Then he spent 15 minutes staring at the bird, his other doves standing on his shoulder and head, pecking at the still man.
He finally broke his frozen state, turning his head to look at the clock. He had been sitting there for 15 minutes, and he hadn’t even noticed he had began to cry some time ago before he had to rub his eyes to read the clock.
5:30.
He sighed, looking at his hands before standing and stretching, his doves flying around and away from him. Medic woke up the earliest, followed by Soldier at 6:30, Spy and Engineer at 6:45, Heavy woke at 7:00, Scout, Pyro, and Sniper at 7:30, and Demo whenever his hangover let up. He had 1 hour to bury the bird, 15 to grieve, and another 15 until he’d have to have his makeup reapplied for breakfast.
He sighed, looking around the room and walking to his closet, grabbing a rain jacket, boots, and a shovel. It was going to be a long day.
.
Shhrk.
Fwwph.
Shhrk.
Fwwph.
Shhrk.
Fwwph.
The sound of a shovel scooping dirt was muffled by the rain, which was somewhat flooding the- as of currently- 4 foot deep hole. Not deep enough, of course. Archimedes deserves a proper burial. Medic had rain dripping down his face, mixing with tears and dirt as he continued shoveling.
Then he paused. He heard footsteps. Fast, light footsteps. Scout. But, Scout shouldn’t be up yet… Medic was a fast digger, he had experience, and he was efficient in a rush. He knew he had only been out there for 45 minutes- Scout shouldn’t be up yet.
“Yo, Doc! You, uh…- You… you… Jesus, man, how many people have ya killed outside th’ rounds?” The young man’s loud voice broke the silence that had been the only comfort to Medic in the past several minutes. 5:47.
“4, Scout, directly.”
“So, uh… what’s with all the graves, then…? And can you quit flingin’ dirt out? Yer gonna get somethin’ on my clothes…”
Medic looked up, seeing Scout peering in, holding a plastic umbrella above himself. Medic was at 5 and a half feet now. “Give me a minute or so, I’m almost finished,” and he continued digging.
“Wh- hey, ya dodged my question! What’s with the graves? These guys did not live long… how old were they, man? 1921 ta 1923? Thas’ like-“
The obnoxious man was suddenly cut off by a whack to the back of his head. “Ow! Medic! What the hell was that for?!” Scout rubbed the back of his head, glaring up at Medic.
“You talk to much, Arschloch.” Medic replied, placing the shovel on the ground before fishing in his coat for a small wooden coffin containing his beloved dove.
“So… you slaughterin’ kids or- wait, ain’t yer bird named Archimedes? Why’s his name on the gravest-ohhhh…” Scout trailed off as his last 2 functioning brain cells sparked together to create a thought.
“Archimedes is dead?!”
Medic sat in the medbay, 20 minute old mascara already trickling down his face mixed with tears. His entire schedule had been thrown off because the loudmouth had woken up half of the team with his sudden screech outside, and then Medic had to explain that since the last 10 years he had worked for Mann Co., he had buried each dove that died under his care a few meters outside Dustbowl.
Engi had already known about this, but the other mercenaries a had varying reactions. Spy and Sniper looked disgusted at the information, and Heavy looked… betrayed? Hurt? He couldn’t tell, he was never good at emotions. Soldier and Demo didn’t seem to care, but Pyro and Scout looked sad. Like Medic was a pathetic dog left out in the rain. He hated that. He hated feeling pathetic.
And he hated feeling alone.
He hated losing a dove, all of his doves were like his children, and it hurt each time one died. It left him vulnerable and scared and alone because he barely had time to grieve before he was back at work.
Tears rolled down his cheeks, falling onto the table. He hated losing doves. He hated the death, the dirt, the guts and gore and sometimes just wished he never took an interest in animals when he was younger so he had a chance to live a normal life.
He broke from his thoughts, looking up at the window, light glinting off of his glasses. A dove sat on his windowsill, a red mark staining its chest, cocking its head and staring at him.
Medic paused before wiping his eyes and walking up to the window, reaching out his arms and gently taking the bird into his hands. “Oh, hallo…”
The bird lightly rubbed against his thumb, cooing happily. He softly smiled, wiping his eyes against his shoulder and petting the bird.
“It’s… it’s good to see you again. You came back fast.” Medic muttered, walking over to the operation table. “You deserve a new name, ja?” He inspected the bird, lightly placing it down.
“… Welcome back, Artemis.”