Wow, 250 Posts, Never Thought I'd Be So Active In Posting And Reblogging :)

Wow, 250 posts, never thought I'd be so active in posting and reblogging :)

@another-delta-lover

Random assortment of Heavy sketches (ft. Medic) with different amount of effort put into them

chillin on a Saturday night

Hell yeah

So, some of you might've seen/read chapter 1 and chapter 2 of a scrapped story I wrote. As I've stated, I will not answer any questions relating to that fanfic, but I was wondering: do some of y'all want me to continue writing that? I mean, I could try, can't guarantee the quality and quantity though.

[NO TITLE/ORIGINAL TITLE SCRAPPED]

Date started: 24th August, 2024

Date finished: 27th August, 2024

[Any typos made in here will or won't be fixed, I don't have the patience for fixing them]

Chapter 1

Amidst the falling snow piling on the ground and on top of roofs and trees, the battle below raged on without a care in the world; of course, that is if you count trying not to get blown up, sliced open, stabbed in the back or anywhere on your body and burned alive. However, being killed countless times has become a norm in the job; with the Respawn machine always bringing them back from or before they passed the astral plane, dying is like a "game over" in your typical video game.

Footprints from the mercenaries' boots imprinted themselves in the layers of snow, bullets and bodies drops to the ground here as they are riddled with said bullets. Classes on both sides try their best to score points by killing each other, while some would rather be stealing kills from their teammates who put effort into eliminating the ememy. It was just another typical day in the Cold Front for both the BLU and RED team.

Pushing the front lines to capture the RED's second control point was a BLU Übercharged Heavy. Like every heavies, he protected a BLU Medic behind him, who was providing him his invincibility. At best, the BLU Medic looks tired, bored even, but it still was sort of hard to tell with the medical mask covering his face at all times. His breath comes in the form of cloudy fogs, soon merging with the cold atmosphere of his surroundings.

Everyday was the same, with no new excitement or something to lift his spirit and give him motivation to even get himself out of bed; all his current experiments were pushed back because of the weather, the doctor was given a constant series of headaches because of Scout followed by the unnecessary scolding of their team's Soldier after every round. With the same repetitive cycle day after day, Medic was beginning to feel like his health was declining.

At the moment, the cold wasn't helping him or the situation he was in. Having to wear two winter coats to shield himself from the cold, and to also to protect his exposed chest, it was beginning to get a bit suffocating. He was taken out of his trance was he noticed Heavy running in front of him. Out of breath because of the winter coats and the cold, he ran up right behind him while his invulnerability wore off.

The last control point was seized by the BLU team and the Administrator's voice came through the speakers, announcing the obvious winning team. The REDs groaned in defeat and all retreated back to their bases. Everyone in the BLU team was congratulating the heavy for securing their victory as they were heading back, Medic felt left out, and he frowned at that; the last control point would not have been won if it wasn't for him and his Über. Despite the ridiculous situation, Medic didn't speak up about his conflictions. Right now, he just needs to get back into the base where everything was warmer.

As soon as Medic passed under the base's door frame, he nearly sprinted to his infirmary. This wasn't a shock to the rest of the team, and they chuckled among themselves; the doctor always had his chest out in the open, it was no wonder why he was shaking to the core and was glad to be somewhere warmer. The infirmary had a heater in the corner, something that some places in the base doesn't have, and he immediately rushed over to turn it on. The room grew warmer by each passing minutes, and Medic relaxed in his chair.

The infirmary was filled with the heater's warmth, with the addition of a few doves cooing on the ceiling beams. Medic placed his legs on the table, crossing one over the other as he gazed at the ceiling, pondering about his life. As previously stated, his life has been quite boring, everything was the same day after day.

What's worse was that he didn't even get along with his Heavy. Yes, they were in quite a stable friendship, and this started a few months back. But Medic started to realize that Heavy did not mean to propose actual friendship, but rather something that tied Medic to him, something that was meant to guilt trip him everytime Heavy was denied of a favour. When confronting Heavy about that matter, the doctor was met with a rather nasty argument. He meant to solve it in a peaceful way, a way that meant they could still keep that friendship, but instead he has broken all ties to Heavy. That didn't mean that he still doesn't need to heal or Übercharge him on the field, or communicate with him during mandatory team meetings and every other days.

Medic looked over to his shoulder, a weight has settled on it and it appeared to be Archimedes. He smiled softly and scratched the bird's head. "You alvays know vhen daddy's upset, don't you?" Medic said sadly, still taking in the comfort of his pet dove. The other doves on the beams flew down, surrounding Medic in a nest of doves. This didn't bother him, rather it gave him more comfort.

Interrupting this moment was a loud crash coming from outside the infirmary, startling Medic and the doves. They flew cautiously back on the ceiling beams and Medic jumped out of his chair, sprinting to the door. He opened it and rushed out, the door slamming on the wall behind it; Medic hoped he didn't break the door, the repair will be going to his paycheck if he did, and he needed all the money he can save up. There was another crash, this time sounding like someone dropped to the floor. Medic skidded across the floor into the common room, where he found the RED Scout trying to escape with the intelligence and the RED Heavy brawling with his own.

Pulling the bonesaw he kept on his belt out, the doctor charged into the fight. He managed to stab the RED Scout, making him drop the briefcase. He kicked it away from the common room, getting it to slide under a table nearby. He wondered where the rest of the team was and why they weren't rushing to help.

The doctor then turned his attention to the two Heavies fighting each other. In a desperate attempt to help his friend, he stabbed the RED Heavy in his side to which he cried out in pain. He swinged his arm in Medic's direction, flinging him half way across the room. He fell flat on the floor, his head colliding quite painfully against it and his exposed chest hurting from the impact taken. Medic's vision blurred, probably because his glasses dropped somewhere, but he started to feel lightheaded. He was having a concussion. Catching a glimpse of the RED Heavy escaping from the BLU Heavy's attack, Medic passed out on the floor a bit away from them. That's going to have an impact on his health, and reputation.

When the doctor awoken, he used one arm to support himself as he sat up, the other went to his head then to his chest, holding it to ease the headache he was experiencing and soothing the pain before he gets a heart attack next. Taking a look around the room, it was completely wrecked, but gladly the briefcase was still where he left it. There was blood all over the floor, and the RED Scout's body was picked up by Respawn. There was no sign of his Heavy within the room, and no other teammates for that matter. He was left to clean up yet another mess.

Getting up and regaining his balance, he first began picking up his bonesaw and putting it back into his belt, then the things that fell on the floor and putting them back on wherever they were before. The only thing that was broken was a stool, surprisingly, which he supposed Heavy used to hit the RED. Without worrying about getting the wooden splinters stuck in his hand because of the latex gloves, he picked up the broken pieces of wood carefree.

Immediately after he finished cleaning up the mess on the floor, a distinct sipping sound presented itself behind him. Whipping his head back, he found Sniper standing behind him, leaning against the door frame. Without a proper "hello", Medic stalked towards him and grabbed him by the shirt collar. This surprised the taller man, and he looked at the doctor in confusion.

"Vhere in zhe hell vere you vhen ve got ambushed?!" Medic said angrily, releasing Sniper's shirt collar and pushing him back with one hand. Any kind of arguments, excuses, explanations or insults thrown at Medic by the marksman fell to deaf ears as he resumed his duty of tidying up the common room. Sniper stormed off in a fit of rage, swearing under his breath, something having to do about Medic being "a pissy faux".

Medic went to the broom closet to retrieve a mop. First, he filled a bucket to wet the thing then squeezed it, making sure it's not too wet. He came back and began the last thing of the tidying up of the common room. Medic mopped up all the blood, having to go back and forth to clean the mop. As he cleaned, he noticed another trail of blood, seemingly dragging itself away from the other pools of blood. Upon further inspection, the trail led him to the back of the base. Was this where the RED Heavy escaped to?

Medic positioned the mop against a wall, first making sure that it wouldn't fall then he snuck out to the back, where Medic assumed the RED Heavy bled out and died, then hopefully got picked up by Respawn. Surprisingly, he was still alive. He sat next to the workshop's door, but the engineer wasn't in there, nor was there any sign of Pyro being present and guarding it with a few sentries; there was absolutely nothing to protect the back from being ambushed, it was no wonder how they got in.

Medic leaned out slightly from the wall he leaned against, the corner scratching against his chest. Damn, he really need to get a new shirt and coat soon, this just won't do.

The RED Heavy held onto the injury on his side with a tight grip, all the while pressing his back against the cold wall of the base. It was still snowing, but it seemed like nothing but a minor inconvenience to the Russian man. Medic watched the man, his shallow breath and the RED Heavy's laboured breath coming in the form of fog in the cold. Medic reached for his bonesaw on his belt, gripping lightly on the handle as he remained in the same position, watching the enemy Heavy. There was nothing interesting about watching him slowly bleed out, but it was the only thing Medic could do, other than killing him, of course.

Medic's grip stayed light on the bonesaw's handle. The sight of the Heavy just slowly dying brought a weird feeling to him, a feeling that reminded him that he was in that situation before; when there was no one to help him, he sat against the wall and bleed out, watching the scout pick up the health kit he so desperately needed; it was a horrible feeling.

The doctor released his grip on his weapon and slowly stepped back. He can't kill him like that. Yes, he was the enemy and he ambushed the BLU base on ceasefire, but Medic couldn't bring himself to kill a helpless guy, not while not being on the battlefield; he had sympathy too, unlike the RED Medic, who sees all life forms as "disposable". He left the RED Heavy alone, resuming his duty cleaning up the mess in the base. Medic was sure that the RED Heavy could simply drag himself back to his place, otherwise Respawn had his back.

The absolute bloodshed on the battlefield was sending surges of adrenaline through every mercenaries' blood, like always. This time, Medic finally got himself a new uniform instead of wearing the torn apart one from all the other times; he finally feel warmer within the confine of his one thick winter coat. As usual, he followed his Heavy around, occasionally healing his other teammates when he encountered them.

The BLU's second point was about to be capped, and the doctor would not allow it. Leaving Heavy's side, he ran towards the second point to defend it; as a one man army, he will obviously die, but it was worth trying, it's been quite a while since he was able to attack an enemy on his own. On his way to the second furthest point of the Cold Front, Medic slipped on the snow multiple times, some times he barely got a grip of himself and regain balance. It was embarrassing, and Medic was sure he will not be able to defend anything if he kept it up.

As soon as he got there, the doctor encountered the RED Heavy. Suddenly, he got cold feet, so he stood there and watched as the point slowly get capped. The RED Heavy turned to look at him, then immediately started revving up his minigun, ready to open fire if Medic approached. It came as a surprise to the RED Heavy when Medic didn't attempt to make a single move, not even moving to grab his syringe gun or crossbow.

Internally, Medic screamed at himself to do something, to kill him. Just because he began to feel sympathetic for the the enemy once, doesn't mean he can't kill him cold-blooded on the battlefield. Still, Medic couldn't bring himself to kill the RED Heavy after encountering him in that state the day before. Making up his mind one last time, he pulled out the crossbow, aiming and ready to shoot.

All too soon, the point was capped and that was another win for the RED team. Not wanting his team to catch him in such a state, he ran the opposite way to the RED Heavy back to his team. Stealthily sneaking into Respawn then walking out hastily to give the impression he just died, Medic approached the group of blue uniforms wearing mercs. They were, again, complaining about their defeat; the RED team always seemed to have to upper hand. No one paid much attention as to why the doctor wasn't present at the time their defeat was announced, assuming he was shot down by a sniper.

Medic walked back to the base with his team, all bickering about a poker game that were about to play that evening to relieve some stress. Looking behind his back, he noticed the RED team spending a little more time outside playing in the snow. It was always frequent to see the REDs hanging out with each other outside the base, but that wasn't what caught his attention. Rather, it was the RED Heavy who was, as well, present; he just stood there, a little away from his team, watching the BLUs as they head back into the base. Strange.

[This has a second chapter, but it is unfinished and won't be finished. I won't answer any questions regarding this fanfic]