Summary: The RED team has some trouble during battle one Halloween. With their fusion in trouble and only Spy there to help, there’s only one thing to do to turn the match around… But is Spy willing to do it? And what happens when he does?
Fusion was a complicated matter, but with a little practice, they were able to make it work. Not all could stay together as long as others, but they were plenty destructive. They were also a bit more of a strain on the ones fusing, so they were useful, but the team was all in agreement that it was best to stick with the stable fusions. They were all fine with that.
That is, everyone except for Spy.
Over the past week, the Frenchman refused to fuse all but once. It took plenty of convincing (and maybe a little bit of bribing), the initial fusion would only be seen by himself and Engineer, who he was fusing with. It was a shame that Medic couldn’t see the initial fusion, because Bane turned out to be a particularly spectacular creature. He was a force to be reckoned with, and if Medic was being honest, he was one of his favorite fusions so far.
But it was fine by everyone if their saboteur didn’t want to fuse, because they had plenty of other wonderful combinations to work with… Besides, Medic didn’t have time to dwell on it, because he was too busy preparing for the battle that Halloween.
Halloween was one of the best times of the year for Medic. Merasmus, who they somehow managed to piss off every year, turned the battlefield into a landscape of horror and he loved it. Granted, it was rather annoying to be struck down by the Horseless Headless Horseman whenever he couldn’t stick by one of his teammates, but it was always a grand time!
At least, you know, when BLU’s Scourge isn’t basically walking the payload to its destination.
Medic was certainly livid when he found out that the enemy had his serum, Heavy could attest to a wrecked workshop after the news came. But the discovery of what these mercy could create together by fusing was nothing short of perfect for his curious mind.
That being said, Scourge- a fusion of Medic and Heavy- was one of the strongest and most stable fusions of them all, and gaining the upper hand against that was becoming increasingly difficult. It didn’t help that the enemy Spy had picked RED’s Heavy off before Medic could fuse with him. He was able to kill the BLU before he was next, but now he had to figure out what to do.
RED’s Tank (Soldier and Demoman- shockingly almost as stable as Firework) was holding his own against the BLU’s fusion, but who knew how long that would last? They needed a plan. With no one unfused and alive in sight, Medic needed a plan.
Hope came in the form of his own Spy peering around a corner just across the battlefield. No doubt looking for stray enemies he can exploit while the chaos with the fusions is going on just a few yards away. Fortunately for him, the doctor has better ideas… If he can get to the Frenchman before he gets killed.
Medic looks both ways, in neither direction does he see anyone that can stop him if he runs… Now.
The Medic breaks into a sprint as soon as the coast is clear. He’s no Scout, but years of running after teammates (and before that from the law) allowed him to make his way to the Spy. He narrowly dodges hits from the enemy Soldier, but a few shots to the neck from his syringe gun takes care of him before he dives into cover. As impressive of a display as it was, Spy is more disconcerted and furious than anything else, something akin to a startled cat.
“Docteur!” The slender man hissed, peering back out where Medic came from. “What do you think you’re-”
“Fuse with me!” Medic’s voice is only a little too loud, but he doesn’t have time to be quiet, there’s medicine to practice and no time to waste!
Spy only looks a little bit shocked by the sudden proposition. “I beg your pardon!”
Medic unconsciously leans into the saboteur’s space as his grin grows ever wider. “Fuse with me, my friend!” Spy opens his mouth to argue, but he can’t get a word in edgewise because the wider man cuts him off. “There’s no one else over here, and our friend the Tank can’t take much more!”
Spy frowns and leans back out to check, but Medic knows he’s right. Both fusions are looking worse for wear, but Tank doesn’t have the numbers on his side like Scourge does. And by the looks of it, it won’t be long before their fusion is taken down and the BLU team is handed their victory on a silver platter… But Medic still isn’t expecting Spy to agree. He had managed to fuse once before, but Spy was an enigma. There was no telling if Spy would-
“Fine.”
“… I’m sorry?” Smooth, doctor. Very smooth.
Spy lets out a sigh of annoyance. “I said… Fine. I’ll fuse with you.”
Oh. That was easy! What was he so worried about?
Medic’s smile must’ve been just a little too wide and excited, because the other man snaps, “Don’t make a fuss about it, we don’t have more time to waste!”
Right, the payload!
The doctor couldn’t stifle his grin as Spy placed one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand, and in turn he places a free hand on the slimmer waist. It was the day after the first fusion that they discovered that dancing made fusing easier. Pyro had gotten a little too excited about becoming Firework again, but who could blame them? It was unclear why this was the case, but it did. Medic thought that it had to do with intimacy and the emotional aspect of fusion. It was just his hunch, though it did help explain why some fusions were more stable than others.
The team agreed to do a brief waltz, something simple and easy to learn, but Medic liked to add some more personal touches to his dances. Spy doesn’t reciprocate but that’s just fine.
Before long, Medic was no longer just himself, and neither was Spy. The new creation began to take shape, and one thing he noticed was his new height. The next thing was that he had more eyes. Definitely something to explore later- if there is a later. Right now, they had a battle to win.
In a puff of smoke he was cloaked, and he made his way to the main battle in time to see the BLU Scourge about to take down his Tank. He wasn’t about to have that, so he snuck up behind the enemy and stabbed him in the back. With that fusion down for the moment, he was able to rush to his comrade’s aid.
“Thank ye, soldier!” Tank gave a half solute as he gave his thanks. The accent was odd to hear, but it was the same as all the other fusions. “Glad ta see the French goon pulling his own weight!”
The new fusion only snorts, stopping to cloak, appear behind an unaware Scout, and stab him in the back before returning to the other. He puts the gun away and pulls up his MediGun, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as it heals all the wounds inflicted on the brute. “Shut up and crush the BLUs so we can leave with a victory!”
Crush them they did.
And once the rest of the RED team returned to find the two fusions, they were able to help them leave with a victory. The BLUs couldn’t secure their victory in time to stop the fusions, and stopping them wasn’t an option once the new fusion got his ÜberCharge up. Not even the Horseless Headless Horseman could stop them at that point.
During the following humiliation round, he was also delighted to discover that he could cloak and stab much faster. He had taken out most of the BLU team himself, which was Scout’s one complain about the fusion. Otherwise, the team seemed to love him.
Scout chatted on and on about the fusion’s performance while Pyro was content looking at his new form with an excited bound in their step.
But the fusion split up before they could figure out a name for him, but that was alright for Medic, they could figure that out later… If he can get a chance like that again with Spy. But the man already surprised him once today, he’ll find out soon enough if he chooses to do it again… After the Halloween party, of course.
Another thing that Medic loves about Halloween are the parties. The ones the RED team usually holds are small and the decoration is simple (besides the thief’s brain in the pumpkin- that’s his favorite!), but they’re great fun! This year is no different… Well, there are some differences.
Most of them dress up in costume. Some costumes take more effort than others. Sniper will just take his bow and arrow and say he’s a hunter. Soldier likes to be a robot with a cardboard head. This year, Soldier thought it’d be fun to be a scarecrow, and Scout, always one to put a little effort into his costumes, was a clown. Medic himself always liked going the mad scientist route, but this year the thought it’d be interesting to change it up. Instead of donning the white wig and abron, he put on a pair of horns and a suit to become the Devil. He’d sure get a kick out of it! Well, Medic thinks so, anyway. At the very least, Heavy had chosen to match him again and went with a comically tiny pair of angel wings and halo over his usual wear, so it was worth it! Spy tended to go with the same costume every year like Soldier did, but that was fine, because he always looked handsome anyway… Well, as handsome as one could get when most of his face is covered.
Miss Pauling comes over to play games with the others. Last year was some kind of roleplaying game. Playing that with Soldier was a recipe for disaster, so even if he wasn’t busy making his favorite decoration with Engineer, he wasn’t going to join. Luckily, this year was a sort of card game. It was delightfully raunchy and horrible and Medic was having a blast with it!
But he may have just been watching the game. It sure was entertaining enough to warrant some attention. But the thought was discarded when he chanced a glance and Spy looks away to talk to Sniper, who had an arrow notched and pointed at an apple on Demoman’s head. The Scotsman doesn’t seem to care, he just proceeds to lean against the wall and take a swig from the bottle in his hand.
Medic stifles a frown at this, puzzled but willing to let it slide until he can get away from the game… Which seemed to be now, as once he turned back he found Soldier and Scout bickering over who had won the match. In all honestly, Heavy had bested the both of them, but they weren’t listening. Medic stands up, excusing himself to Miss Pauling and Heavy before making his way to Spy.
“Herr Spy,” Medic greeted with a smile, unfazed by the almost daunted appearance that the other had taken. “May I talk to you for a moment?”
Sniper had chosen that moment to step aside so he could concentrate on firing his arrows without killing the drunken Scotsman. He thought he caught the beginnings of a smirk, but he couldn’t be sure. He was more focused on the scowl the Frenchman shot at the Australian before turning his attention back to Medic.
He seemed to be contemplating something before without warning, he grabs the doctor’s arm and half-drags him outside. Medic isn’t as fast so he’s not ashamed to admit that he stumbled on the way, but once they reach the back of the building Spy finally releases him.
“Are you-”
“I want to fuse again.”
The pair are silent for an almost eternal moment. Medic stares at Spy with a dumbfounded expression while the other stares back at him almost expectantly. The German schools his expression once the phrase stops echoing in his mind, but he can’t help the grin that forms on his face as he holds his arms out for the other man.
“Don’t even start,” Spy bites, but he approaches anyway.
They start just as they had the first time before they begin to dance. To Medic’s delight, Spy is willing to put his own spin on the moves as well. What started as a simple waltz turned into something much more of their own, and before he knew it, he was no longer two. He was one larger being with four eyes once more. Their costumes had merged just like the rest of them, so what came about was a bizarre combination. He had mixed feelings about it at first, but upon looking at himself in the glass of a nearby window he finds that he did look a little ridiculous. He only minds a little.
He finds himself staying like that for half an hour, just taking some time for himself to simply exist. The rest of the time was used to find a name for himself. The team might’ve had something for him, but he had to have some say in what he was going to be called dammit!
He decided to split up so he could have two minds thinking on it instead of one, but if he was being honest… He didn’t really want to split up. But he did anyway, and Medic received quite the surprise.
They had gotten closer than their initial dance- no, not just closer, more intimate. Spy’s arms were around Medic’s neck, and both of Medic’s hands were on Spy’s waist. Their foreheads touched even as they both opened their eyes and registered the situation. Spy tensed up for just a split second, but then he relaxes in Medic’s grasp.
“Docteur,” he whispers, and suddenly something clicks in the doctor’s head.
Some would say that Medic’s greatest flaw is his brutality. That’s not a flaw, it’s an asset. His actual greatest flaw is the fact that he takes too long to recognize his own feelings… Such as now. He wonders how many times he had seen the Frenchman’s form and had his heart skip a beat, but then assume that he’s excited over something else. How many times had he seen the man murder his enemy with such grace that Medic found it hard to breathe, but had it brushed off as nothing more than the excitement of battle? Or heard him laugh and mistook it for contagious as he found himself laughing along? What about all the flutters in his chest he ignored? The countless flushed faces?
God, he’s had this happen to him several times, but at least he wasn’t this foolish about it! Not since his teenage years, anyway!
He should make up for it, Medic thinks, but he’s already leaning in. He doesn’t even realize that his comrade was as well until their lips were brushing, and then they were slotted together.
So much for being productive.
They pull away, Spy with a small smile and Medic with an undoubtedly larger and dopier one. He debates leaning in for a second, but Scout’s voice broke the moment between them.
“Doc, Spy, you- whoa.”
The pair turned to see Scout walking into view, but he stops just as he rounds the corner. A smug grin begins to spread upon the younger man’s face. “… Am I interruptin’?”
“What do you want?” Spy snapped, a bite in his tone.
“… Nevermind!” Before anything else can be said, Scout runs off without another word. Spy groans as they hear the faint shouts of Scout telling the entire team a raunchier version of what was actually happening. If Medic had any shame, he’d be pissed, but the other seemed to take care of that for him.
“I’m going to kill him,” he seethed.
Medic laughs and places a hand on his back. “Not to worry! That just takes care of telling the team ourselves! Or keeping a secret!” He paused for a moment, one somewhat somber thought coming to mind. “… Unless you’d rather forget about this?”
Spy doesn’t waste time considering the option, apparently, because he grabs Medic by the lapels of the suit jacket and pulls him down for another kiss. This one was much more possessive and rough than the last, and with Medic kissing back, it was longer.
Spy pulls away and releases him abruptly. Before the doctor starts to form doubts in his mind, the Frenchman says, “If I wanted to forget, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place, connard.”
Medic grins as he’s dragged back to the party, a round of congratulations greeting them upon their return.
Medic’s love for Halloween was boundless, and it grew stronger with the promise of a new relationship and a new way to victory: a fusion they called Wraith.
Ginger's Art n Junk 