Chapter Text
Soldier was never a sissy, no sir! He had lived through battles where he went an entire day without eating- the nourishment of living to see another hour in war was enough food for thought. He didn’t need to eat other than when it was absolutely necessary.
However, getting up for a midnight snack was acceptable. Every American needed to eat. After all, who knows when his last meal might be when whatever horrible thing the communists are planning next strike. A bowl of cereal never hurt a man.
It was passed midnight, nearing one o’ clock, by the time Soldier finished his food and washed his dishes. His comrades were off in fairy land dreaming about the greatness of America- or at least they better be- so Soldier ate in solitude. No worries; he could keep vigil and protect his team as he ate through his bowl of whatever sugary cereal Scout’s mom sent him this month (surely Scout wouldn't mind).
At least, he assumed he was the only one awake.
As Soldier retreated to his room, he heard muffled voices coming from down the halls. Yelling, and a lot of it. It was coming from the infirmary. Was the doctor in trouble? Like a true comrade, Soldier took it upon himself to investigate these terrible sounds.
Slowly and silently, Soldier crept around corners on high alert, his helmet swishing as he darted his head around for any nearby threats. As he approached, the yelling only seemed to get louder, now revealing that there were two voices, and both were furious.
Soldier poked his head around a corner closest to the infirmary, listening in on the voices. One was booming with a thick accent, though speaking in English, and the other was a shrill and snarling in German.
Before Soldier made any further advancements, the double doors slammed open with a sickening crack, dangerously on the verge of either damaging the wall or the doors themselves. Heavy stomped out, and Soldier hid back around the corner before he was spotted, even going as far as to hold his breath. Judging by his expression, Heavy was not in the mood to see Soldier, and that was one of the few men Soldier knew could beat him to a pulp, and one he truly feared.
Heavy stormed off down the other end of the hallway to his own quarters, muttering to himself in Russian with smoke practically coming out of his ears. The thought of Soldier investigating the doctor’s lair was tempting, sure, but he decided against it, lest he face the wrath of the medicine man.
With that, Soldier snuck back to bed, occupying himself for the rest of his waking hours with thoughts of what the hell he just saw.
----
“Gentlemen! We have a crisis on our hands, which is why I have gathered you all here today!”
“You didn’t gather us, Dum Dum. It’s breakfast, and this is the kitchen.”
“’aye, the lad’s right. Also, do you hafta yell, Jane? We’re right here, ya know, an’ some of us are hung over.”
Soldier stood in his usual rock-solid straight posture to the rest of his team, minus Medic and Heavy. All were as excited to be up as ever, some more than others- Spy was as dapper as always with his baclava and suit ready for battle, whereas Sniper hadn’t even gotten out of his pajamas yet. Whether Pyro even was a morning person was up for debate, but occasionally during breakfast they’d reach a finger up under their mask presumably to rub their eyes.
“I’m afraid we have the threat of treason on our hands, men!” Soldier continued without lowering his volume even a fraction of an octave, “Mann versus Mann, European versus European. We could very well be on the verge of another world war by now!”
The other mercenaries exchanged confused glances amongst each other, trying to nonverbally decipher with one another what the hell Soldier was going on about at such an early hour.
“Does it have somethin’ to do with Doc and Heavy?” Engineer asked from his spot at the stove as he cooked himself a traditional hardy American breakfast.
“Yes, and- wait, how did you know?” Soldier asked.
“They are the only ones not ‘ere and they’re European,” Spy answered as he lit himself one of his expensive imported cigarettes.
“Couldn’t wait till you got to the rec room, sir?” Engineer groaned as he looked over his shoulder, “Pretty sure your ash don’t go well in other people’s eggs.”
“Bite me, fat man,” Spy snapped back, “We’ve all seen you chew your ‘secret’ tobacco like a cow when you go in that workshop. At least I am ‘onest about my tobacco use. ” Spy was going to be Spy as always, and Engineer wouldn’t argue any further with his now pink-colored ears. He turned back to his breakfast at hand.
“’ave any of you seen them this morning?” Demoman asked, “Heavy’s usually here by now, making himself a lunch.”
A murmur of negative statements rang through, everyone finally coming to terms that it was strange that neither of them were here this morning. Food was one of the few things Heavy loved more than his gun and his doctor.
“I saw Heavy,” Sniper said as he took the freshly brewed coffee out of the maker. All eyes turned to the slouched figure at the counter and the bushman let out a long yawn before taking a gulp straight from the pot and continuing. “Yeah. Saw him on my way to m’ van, ‘bout half past six. Y’know that ol’ punchin’ dummy Scout was too weak to use so he threw it in one of the garages?”
“Hey!” Scout snapped, “That thing was busted! Probably filled wit lead or sumthin’. I need a real punchin’ bag.”
Sniper ignored him for now, as did everyone else. “Well, Heavy pulled it out to the courtyard- back turned to me, so I was able to stare for a bit, ya know. I’ll tell ya, he was just beatin’ the bloody Hell outta that thing. Think he punched it’s 'ead clean off- just like that, one punch. Never seen him that upset before. Must’ve been real bad.”
“So the doc pissed off the big guy?” Scout asked.
“It would seem so, Private,” Soldier confirmed, “I saw it with my own two eyes. While I did not see the doctor myself, the bloodlust look in Heavy’s eyes told all. Only other time I’ve ever seen that look was during the Battle of-"
Pyro added a muffled interruption from their spot at the table- not eating anything, obviously. It was obvious they’re not taking off their mask in front of everyone any time soon, but they always joined breakfast. They spent breakfast drawing crude crayon pictures on scrapped paper from Medic’s office, and no one cared by now.
“You’re right, Pyro,” Engineer agreed as he craned his neck back, “Those two go together like bacon and eggs. Wonder what set them off?”
“No idea,” Sniper responded.
“Then we must act fast!” Soldier announced, “We will march right into Medic’s office and torture that man till he apologizes to Heavy. Scout and Demoman, you hold him down, and I’ll give him the ol’ Flying Squirrel method. Works every time.”
“Or we could just talk to the man,” Spy retorted as he puffed out a cloud of smoke, “’e’s more civilized than some of us. I don’t think ‘e wants to be tortured before even entering the battlefield.”
“Frenchie’s right,” Scout said, “You seem that dude in the showers? He’s fuckin’ ripped. I ain’t holdin’ down no pissed-off, buff German motherfucka. We don’t even know his side of the story.”
“This is no time for idle chat, ladies,” Soldier barked, slamming his hand on the table and looking into Scout’s eyes from under his helmet, “You will hold him down, or by God I will staple your arms to that man, you sniveling, pathetic-”
“Or, or,” Engineer interjected, cooling the flames before Soldier and Scout got heated. By now he had walked over to Pyro and put a hand on their shoulder, while the other held a breakfast bagel and egg sandwich on a plate. “Before we go an’ rustle his feathers, since y’all haven’t seen Medic this morning, why don’t we give him some breakfast first? He gets cranky if he doesn’t eat like we all do. Jus’ don’ like to show is, is all.”
“Laborer, food is not the answer,” Spy sneered, “That man, ‘e’s impossible when ‘e’s in a bad mood. Can’t we leave this until the battle is over?”
“If we can get this over with now, our lives’ll be much easier. That mad scientist was probably up all night and forgot to eat again. The best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach; maybe he’ll open up to us after some chow. So, how ‘bout one of y’all run this down there for me? Someone else, go check on the big feller.”
Initially, no one responded beyond unsure glances amongst each other. Sniper was getting close to finishing off his pot of coffee in the corner of the kitchen, and Spy was tapping his cigarette over the ash tray he had set in the middle of the table some time ago. Then finally, finally, Demoman got up and took the plate from Engineer’s hands.
“Alright, alright, I’ll go,” he said.
A sigh of relief swept across the room.
“But Spy’s coming with me.”
Spy’s cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth. “Why?” he hissed.
“If the doc locked the door, you’re good at pickin’ them things. Plus, ye seem to tolerate him more than most of the people here."
Spy’s famous scowl returned for the first time this morning, showing his true age etching across his face. Still, he harshly smashed the cigarette into the ash tray and followed Demoman out of the room.