Too little. Too late. Everything was destroyed. The remains of the Engineer's buildings peppered the pathway, leaving wild sapphire sparks in its wake. The culprit was none other than the slippery BLU Spy. He yelled out for help. For anyone. But his cries were whisked off with the pandemonium of war.

It was mid-battle in the freezing grounds of Coldfront. Despite both teams' unwillingness to battle in the extreme subzero temperatures, war had no boundaries and they were sent off anyway. They were being paid to kill after all, murder was no walk in the park. Amidst the chaos, nobody knew who was nearing victory. If Dell had to take a philosophical guess (a rare deviation from his practical mentality), they were both losing. The winter was friend to no one.

A red scarf, though tattered and darkened with blood, fluttered freely in the bluster like a battle flag. Each step of his retreat sent electric shocks, curses bubbled on his lips. As he had expected, nobody was there to help. No first-aid kit, no doctor in sight. Dell supported himself against the wooden wall. The unreliable shelter did not resemble a house at all. A trail of scarlet flowers bloomed behind him. The Spy had not left the crime scene without a parting gift, a bullet in his thigh. His breath came in short, swift clouds of mist. Blood roared in his ears.

The world whirled in his eyes, nothing but a smutch of grey, white, brown and red. It was too much for him to bear. He did not care whether the open wound or the cold claimed him first, whichever killed him faster was enough.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

A lone Medic walked aimlessly in the snow, ending up on a rocky edge surrounded by trees crowned with even more snow. How did they get here? Someone might ask. You could say a stickybomb blasted them and the enemy mercenaries were foolish enough to leave their dying body right there. If it was not for the medkit they landed beside, or their ability to play dead, [Y/N] would not have been able to put themself back together again.

Their lips trembled, they had resisted the call for help. They supposed that if these winds somehow managed to carry their voice far into the frontlines, their enemies would come hunting for their head. A dead medic on a stake would not be very reassuring to their allies. They had barely the slightest idea of whether they were heading forward to their team or backward into their adversaries. The thought dangled over their head, begging that it was not the latter. Frost enshrouded their eyebrows, lashes and hair.

It started as an itch at the back of their throat, then it expanded. The overwhelming dread made them want to vomit.

But let's not try to think about that. For when crisis calls, medics were (often) the best for handling it. To panic right now would not serve any benefit.

I could have sworn I heard something. They gauged their surroundings. Snowfall obscured their vision, but something stuck out unusual. In the corner of their eye, a red trail led into the dismantled wooden structure. It soaked the pure snow.

At first, the BLU Medic wavered but they slid down the edge, their soles silently landing on the ground. The clean übersaw unholstered from their belt, it had been a long time since they had to use it. They tread lightly, reaching around the corner, ready to strike...

Pause.

A RED Engineer lay unconscious cloaked in a blanket of snow.

They knelt before their enemy and felt around his neck for a pulse.

What are you doing?

Something told them to stop but they could not.

Idiot, he would kill you if he could!

A faint heartbeat.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

He was awoken, the stings came attacking him from all sides. All he wanted was for it to stop. Then, as if some fairy godmother heard him, the pain chipped away in chunks. Coldfront disappeared before him. A gloved hand wiped away the snow on his goggles. He opened his eyes slightly, not wanting to disturb the warmth that encompassed him.

Maybe it was his disorientation. Or that he had given up at that point.

But the sight of the enemy medic aiding his injuries did not startle him.

You shouldn't be here.

They both must have thought.

Carelessly, they tore out a sleeve from a sweater and tightened the cloth around the wound. From the corner of his bleary eyes, a blade gleamed menacingly. They could have sliced him up into strips. Who knew the medic, who had earned the reputation of not hesitating to pull out their übersaw and sending you running for your medic, would have the heart to show mercy? Once he was all patched up, they pulled out their medigun and Dell could feel his flesh pulling itself together. As good as new. They pulled over his goggles and he quickly shut his eyes.

"You're not fooling me," they broke the silence. "Open your eyes."

"Why?" He croaked, peeling his eyes open and ogling at them. He could not finish his sentence.

Why did you do all that for me?

They did not look too good themselves, stitches here and there.

"I was just passing by," they said bluntly. A siren blared overhead, signalling a stalemate. "I'm not taking you to your nutjob friends."

The Medic picked themselves and the Engineer up, positioning him in a more comfortable position.

"So long, Engineer," they said.

"It's... Dell."

"Right," their face was somewhere between sheer surprise or the beginnings of a smile. "I hope the next time we meet on the battlefield, I will not be there to play Doctor with you."

They disappeared with the wind.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Neither of them had a good time after the battle's end.

For [Y/N], they received a mind-numbing 30 laps, a month's worth of latrine duty, and a deafening scolding. All served from the Soldier. The rest looked on, helplessly. But the Medic was stuck in their own world, empty of nothing but the frostbitten face of Dell and the dread of the paperwork monster ahead of them.

For Dell, he had a lighter sentence. Never mind the running laps and latrine duty, he was mostly ignored. Of course, he was not spared from the Soldier's chiding either. If only the REDs did not have an unsupported rearguard, they would have pushed forward instead of stalling.

But the RED Spy noticed something odd. The tattered sweater of the BLU Medic. The criminatory sleeve wrapped around his wound. Et voilá. It all clicked together. The easiest jigsaw puzzle. He slid it into a pocketful of whispers. He cornered the Engineer, gesturing to the cloth. It did not take long for the Engineer to catch up.

"Spy, you're thinkin' I know you know sumthin'," he drawled. He attempted to look intimidating but with the Spy being nearly a head taller, it was not working well in his favour. "I didn' hava choice. I woulda' drilled holes into 'em if I wasn' half-dead."

The words sounded wrong in his mouth, he would not repay an act of kindness in such a way.

"If you say so, pardner," he smirked. "No worries. I'm not here to blackmail you for acquainting yourself with the other team's Medic..."

"I'd be a hypocrite if I say otherwise."

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*