Chapter Text
Soldier grins as he eagerly turns his carved pumpkin around. He's covered in pumpkin guts and seeds, his fingers sticky with orange entrails.
"Look, Demo, it's you," he says, pushing it closer to his disgruntled partner.
Demo examines the shoddily carved pumpkin. It has a wide jagged mouth that's missing a few teeth and the one eye it has takes up almost half of its face. An eye patch is patchily drawn in black marker. Still, Demo perks up a bit at the attempt and lets out a laugh.
"Aye, looks pretty accurate, Solly. The ugly sod is missin one thing though."
Demo digs into one of the pockets in his red work jumper and pulls out a black, wool beanie. He places it on top of his pumpkin look-a-like until it fits snugly on its top.
Soldier leans over and his grin widens.
"He's perfect," he whispers in awe. Soldier gently picks up the pumpkin and walks out of the mess hall towards a shelf near the main area of their base, Demo following close behind.
Soldier places the Dem-o'-lantern right next to a carved pumpkin that resembles Soldier. The etching is much neater with more details, but Demo knows that both were made with the same amount of care. Its own steel helmet almost seems to glow under the orange lights.
Both Demoman and Soldier wrap a friendly arm around each other, admiring the line of jack-o'-lanterns that resemble their teammates. However, Demoman's mirth slowly spirals into bitterness the longer he stares at the Dem-o'-lantern. His smile falls into a neutral frown.
Soldier softly nudges him, pulling his attention away from his thoughts.
"Stay frosty, son. Don't make me kick your ass before Merasmus does," Soldier says sternly.
Demo rolls his eye and leans away from Soldier, "I didnae say anythin, Sol."
Soldier turns towards him and crosses his arms, "You don't need to when your mesmerizing face does the talking for you."
Demo slaps a hand against Soldier's mouth and glares at the older man, sputtering,"I told ye to stop that!"
Demo screeches when Soldier leaves a drooling lick against his palm, ripping his hand away to wipe it against his pants.
"And I told you that I would stop when you stop saying stupid shit. I'm not the one who's not keeping their end of the bargain, you beautiful maggot."
Once his hand is dry, Demo sighs heavily and rubs his face with a hand that isn't covered in Soldier's germs.
"Soldier, A'm fine lad. Ye know how I get this time of year."
"...Yeah. Did you try talking to Fritz about it? Maybe he came up with wizard medicine or an anti-magic vaccine."
Demoman frowns, "Soldier, we nae the smartest bunch, but I think we all caught the hint after the past six times it happened. A'm not gettin me eye back. I'm gontae be a one eyed freak til I either lose the other one or die."
Soldier growls and that's Demo's only warning before he's tackled to the ground.
Immediately, Demo drives his knee into Soldier's gut while using all his strength to keep the man from getting within punching distance.
"What in the blazin hells are ye doin ye daft numpty?!" Demo screams as he tries to wiggle out from under Soldier's heavy body.
Soldier glares at him from above, his blue eyes alight with fire as they peek up from his helmet.
"I warned you that I had to kick your ass if you said one more bad thing about the love of my life! No one spews such untrue, un American words about you unless they want a freshly beaten ass!"
"Ye're goin tae beat the shit outta me fer a stupid reason like that?! Soldier, I'm the one who's sayin shit about me!"
"That makes it worse!"
The two roll on the floor for a while, and while Soldier has the upper hand, Demo lands a few good hits on him. At one point, Soldier has Demo completely pinned to the floor in a choke hold. Demo slams his head back and catches Soldier in the nose. It breaks with a sickening crack , but the older mercenary's hold on him is as solid as a rock.
"APOLOGIZE!" Soldier roars, his voice nasally as his blood congests his nostrils.
"YOU'LL HAVE TAE FECKIN KILL ME BEFORE I DO!" Demo bellows back despite the arm around his throat basically blocking his airway.
A new voice joins in, causing the two to freeze, "Vhat on earth are you two doing?!"
Slowly, they look up and flinch under Medic's incredulous, yet frankly terrifying, gaze. From behind him, Scout peaks out and lazily waves at them.
"What's up, chucklefucks? Couldn't have kept your weird ass mating ritual somewhere the rest of us didn't have ta see?"
The mercs on the ground shoot their youngest member a piercing glare, making Scout duck behind Medic again, "I didn't mean it! God, some people are too sensitive these days."
The two scramble off of each other and attempt to get up, but before they can try to explain themselves, a large hand grabs the back of their shirts and lifts them until their feet dangle above the floor. They both frantically grab their respective arm and try to pry it off, but it doesn't budge.
"OI!? WHAT THE-"
"RELEASE ME, TRAITOROUS-"
They awkwardly twist around before shutting up immediately.
Heavy stares down the both of them sternly, his mouth pressed in a firm line.
"Hmph," he grunts, and the two shoot their gazes to the floor, feeling somewhat ashamed.
Medic sighs before waving his hand in a beckoning motion.
"Vell, it seems like mein services are required for more than one idiot. Versuche, sie nicht zu verletzen, Liebes."
Heavy nods, "Da, doktor."
Medic continues his way forward. Scout trails behind him, his left arm clutched in his right hand and he looks frantically between Medic and Heavy, but surprisingly remains quiet.
Soldier and Demoman blink dumbly before exchanging glances. Before either can say anything, Heavy ambles after Medic, the two still dangling in his grasp.
"Heavy, lad, let's talk this out-"
"It was entirely Demoman's fault!"
"Ye fuckin blarney faced liar! Dontae dare pin this all on me!"
"How dare you? You're the liar you silver tongued-"
"Weasel faced-"
"Skirt-wearing-"
"Dung-eatin-"
Heavy rolls his eyes and ambles onward as the two continue to argue. If he's lucky, maybe Medic could consider knocking them out for a few hours, at least until their lunch date is done.
The sounds of Demoman's and Soldier's bickering echoes through the halls all the way to their destination.
"This is vhy you have to be careful vith magic, Scout. I believe I vas able to replace all the bones in your left arm, but let me know if you feel a misplaced joint," Medic huffs as he sanitizes his tools.
Scout experimentally stretches his left arm before cheekily flexing it with a smirk, "Aw, come on, Doc. We've only got this magic crap for less than a month. What's the point of not havin' some fun with it."
Medic smiles widely back, "Vhile I vould be a hypocrite to hinder your curiosity, it vould be vise for you to understand that magic can have unexpected and devastating consequences if handled incorrectly. You vere lucky to just have the bones in your left arm vanish. Imagine the agony of being completely boneless-"
Medic's eyes widen and his grin sharpens. He eagerly fishes out his notebook and begins writing in it, mumbling almost frantically in German. Scout watches the older man nervously. He tries to catch the gaze of any of the other mercenaries in the room, but Soldier and Demo are too busy burning a hole in the infirmary floor with their boiling stares while Heavy watches on neutrally.
Heavy lifts a brow at Scout and merely shrugs.
Once Medic is done writing, he closes his notebook with a sharp thud . Before turning his attention to his other patients.
"You may leave, Scout if you vish," Medic says as he pumps his medigun to full charge.
Scout shakes his head and shoots Demoman a shit eating smile, "Nah, I've got nothin else to do today. Might as well stay for the entertainment."
Demo's scowl deepens and he opens his mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but Medic steps in front of him, blocking his sight. His throat dries when he catches Medic's expression.
The doctor is smiling, but it is incredibly unpleasant to look at.
"Now, you two. Do I need to remind the both of you of my policy?"
"...No," Demo and Soldier grumble.
Medic chuckles darkly, "Ah, so you do remember. And here I thought you both simply forgotten. So, if the case stands that you didn't forget and simply chose to ignore my policy of no brutal infighting, then answer this. Vhy should I waste my time healing either of you?"
"Doc-" Demo starts but Heavy's glare shuts him up.
"Oh, yes, because it's my job to heal my team, regardless of how brain-rotted, idiotic, selfish, ill-minded, careless und einzelne Gehirnzelle they may be. However, nowhere in my contract demands that I need to be considerate vhile doing so. Consideration, mein dummkopfs, is a privilege, not a requirement."
Medic harshly grabs a trolley filled with sharp tools and drags it in front of him. Demo notes that some are still speckled with blood that Medic didn't bother to clean off.
"Now that ve are on the same page, let me ask you: vhy should I be considerate of either of you vhen you don't pay me or my time the same respect?"
Ah, so Medic is pissed pissed, a rare sight to behold, but one that marked an unfortunate end to any who happen to be at the receiving end of it.
It’s like watching the sun explode.
Demo slumps deeper in his seat before sighing.
"Doc, we're sorr-"
"Consideration my ass, you half baked doctor," Soldier snaps, taking his murderous gaze from the floor towards Medic.
Demo harshly smacks Soldier's arm with a hand and hisses, "Jane, shut yer trap," but Soldier pays him no mind.
"Excuse me?" Medic asks, his fingers inching towards a scalpel.
Soldier huffs and leans forward, challenging, "You heard me. What good is that degree when you can't even heal a member of our unit who needs it the most-"
Demo wraps his arms around Soldier and claps a hand over his mouth. Soldier continues to talk but it's muffled, but Demo belts out a laugh to try to cover it up even more.
"HA! This guy! Such a-such a joker me darlin luv can be-Soldier lickin me hand ain't gontae work again so shut the hell up already-" Demo whisper-spits into Soldier's face but quickly shoots Medic a wide, shaky grin even as Soldier lathers his hand in saliva, going as far as even gnawing on it, the rabid fuck.
However, the damage is already done, and Medic's eyes widen, his brows rising above his circular glasses.
Demo flinches when Medic's blue grey eyes flicker to him, specifically at his eye patch.
Medic's surprise quickly fades into understanding.
"... I see."
The group sits in silence for a bit, one that grows ever more tense as the seconds tick on.
Eventually, Medic blinks before turning towards his Medigun. He flicks it on and the red beam slithers towards Demo and Soldier, healing them near instantaneously.
Demo pulls his hands away from Soldier now that the other man's finally gone quiet. He crosses his arms and shifts away from him, ignoring Soldier's burning gaze.
"Vell, I believe I know vhy the two of you vere fighting then. Demoman-"
"Doc, dontae say anythin. I don't wan tae hear it," Demo quickly interrupts. He slides off of the table to stand and makes his way to leave.
"This is freaking stupid! Why does bein a Cyclops bother you so much in the first place?" Scout asks loudly.
Demo whirls towards him and pokes him roughly in the chest, "Shut up, Scout. You donnae understand shite, so save yer breath."
Scout sneers, but before he can say anything, Heavy walks forward to place a hand on Demoman's shoulder.
"None of us understand how Demoman feels. However, it seems like to Heavy that what causes Demo pain is not lack of eye. You are good team member, with or without eye, so why do you choose pain instead?"
Demo brushes Heavy's hand off of him and tries to leave again, but Soldier comes barreling towards him, grabbing both of his arms before violently shaking him.
"Demoman, you are, without a doubt, the most fucking sexy man I ever laid eyes on-"
Demoman lets out a frustrated scream and shoves Soldier off of him before he can continue. He snarls and grits his teeth, anger and embarrassment threatening to explode out of him like a soda can that's been shaken too much.
"Fer fucks sake, just stop, tae lot of ye! Christ Almighty, yer treatin me like a-a-" Demo stops and takes a deep breath before letting it out. He does this a few times until the fire lowers to a burning ember. "Listen, I hear what ye're all saying, an I appreciate it, but like I said, I am fine. I know I'm good at me job and all that- Soldier, dontae say a word or Medic will be forced to fix more than yer face." Demo points an accusing finger at the shorter mercenary just as Soldier opens his gaping maw.
Demo huffs before continuing sarcastically.
"I'm loved an appreciated an we're all livin with sunshine an rainbows an all that shite. So, fer the last time, drop it, all of ye. I just need to wait until that wizard fucks off for the rest of the year-"
Speak the Devil's name and he shall appear.
For a split second, Demo feels the energy around him change. The air buzzes with electricity, and there's a smell of ozone along with something ancient, like old paper and dirt.
In that split second, Demo stops his tirade to scream, "EVERYONE GET DOWN!"
Everyone in the infirmary dives towards the floor, just as a ball of lime green light explodes in the middle of the room.
Soldier and Demoman fly towards a wall, with Soldier smacking heavily against Demoman, knocking the air right out of his lungs. They both crumple into a heap on the ground, Soldier's helmet flying off to God knows where.
Heavy, using his time to instead rush to Medic, protects him from the blast. It sent him flying towards a gurney, his head smacking against a metal corner. He slumps against it, blood trickling from his open wound, knocked out. Medic rushes towards his fallen lover, pulling out a few healing darts and stabbing them into Heavy's neck, anxiously waiting for the large man to wake up.
Scout is able to dive out of the room just as Demoman screamed. However, the blast flings him forward and his head knocks against the drywall, dazing him.
The mercenaries who are still conscious sit up at the sounds of wizard cackling getting louder and louder.
Low and behold, Merasmus materializes in the middle of the room, his black cloak billowing dramatically around him. While his scarf covers his mouth, his sage eyes are easily seen crinkling with mirth. He lifts his crooked staff up in the air, green magic swirling around it in a whirlwind of power.
"ƂᛊꖾᛜᚳD, ᛗᛜᏒᛠᚣᚳᛢ! ᚴᛜᏌ ᛢꖾᚣᚳᚳ ᚺᛜᏔ 𝓯ᚣᛈᛊ ᛠꖾᛊ ᏔᏒᚣᛠꖾ ᛜ𝓯 ᛠꖾᛊ ᎶᏒᛊᚣᛠ ᚣᚺD ᚹᛜᏔᛊᏒ𝓯Ꮜᚳ ᛗᛊᏒᚣᛢᛗᏌᛢ-"
"Shut up, Merasmus! No one can understand your cowardly, wizard speak!" Soldier shouts above the deafening sounds of Merasmus's magic.
The wizard turns towards Soldier before visibly deflating, "Oh, Soldier, it's you. You're behind on rent by the way."
"Merasmus, I sublease my room for nine months out of the year. If you have a complaint, take it up with the guy who's currently renting it!"
"You see, I would, but they died in a rather unfortunate, magic-based accident that wasn't my fault so I can't be held legally accountable for it."
"Then find someone else, you illegal wizardgrant!"
Merasmus slams his staff against the ground, "Bah, I'll deal with you later... or not, for I have business with a specific member of your team."
Merasmus floats away from Soldier and Demoman until he's in front of Medic and Heavy. Heavy opens his eyes, but his gaze is still hazy and unfocused as he wrestles with his concussion.
"Ah, the Medic. Mr. Ludwig, I presume," Merasmus' voice echoes to every corner of the infirmary.
Medic gives Merasmus a wide grin, "Ja, that is me. I prefer Doctor, however."
"Seeing as you lost your medical license, Merasmus sees no reason why he should humor your sentiments. It is no matter, for I am here to give you and all of RED team a little trick before Hallow's Eve."
Heavy inches forward and puts himself in front of Medic, "Doktor, get behind me."
Medic giggles and gently moves Heavy's arm out of the way, "No need to vorry, schatz, I'm quite curious to see vhat harebrained scheme our annual visiting vizard has in store for me. I'm sure it'll be quite amusing."
Merasmus growls and his magic grows brighter in offense.
"I'll show you amusing, Doctor. When I'm done, you'll be lucky if you can even laugh, for you will be too busy crying."
Merasmus grips his staff with both hands and begins to chant, his sage eyes turning to lime as his magic swirls faster and faster around him.
"𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔦𝔯 𝔫𝔞 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔞𝔡𝔥𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔫 𝔬 𝔞𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔪 𝔣𝔲𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔡𝔢𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔫 𝔠ò𝔯𝔯."
Demo's eye snaps open when the sounds of Merasmus' chants filter into his ears. He shoots up and races towards Medic, who's too busy staring at Merasmus to notice him. Soldier tries to grab onto his arm, but misses by a hair.
"TAVISH!" he calls out, but Demo can't afford to comfort him now, no matter how much he wants to, so he continues forward.
"𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔦𝔯 𝔫𝔞 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔞𝔡𝔥𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔫 𝔬 𝔞𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔪 𝔣𝔲𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔡𝔢𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔫 𝔠ò𝔯𝔯."
Merasmus points the tip of his staff until it's aimed at Medic. The green light illuminates Medic's calm smile.
Demo slides across the floor and shoots his hand out.
"𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔦𝔯 𝔫𝔞 𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔞𝔡𝔥𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔫 𝔬 𝔞𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔪 𝔣𝔲𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔡𝔢𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔤𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔫 𝔠ò𝔯𝔯."
The green ball of light propels forward.
And Demoman shoves Medic out of the way.
Everything explodes in a blinding green light, the screams of worry, surprise, and anger fading into white noise.
Soldier grunts and his vision slowly clears. His ears are ringing loudly, but he's able to catch Merasmus shouting, "NO! CURSE YOU, DEMOMAN!"
Soldier picks up the sound of popping. He's lived with Merasmus long enough to know what that means.
He's gone, for now.
Shakily, Soldier uses the wall to stand back up. The infirmary is filled with smoke, making it near impossible to see anything, but his eyes desperately search for Demoman.
"Tavish!" Soldier cries out. He winces at how his voice scrapes against his throat. He sounds funny. Soldier takes a step, but almost buckles onto the floor.
His heart pounds when no one answers him.
Gritting his teeth, Soldier forces his aching body to press on towards Medic and Heavy, knowing that Demo is probably there.
He has to be. He has to be. He's going to rip Merasmus's spine right out of his ass-
"JANE! COME QUICKLY!" a voice shouts.
It takes Soldier a minute to realize that Medic is calling out to him. He ambles his way forward, a part of him feels comforted at hearing Medic's weird voice.
That wizard did all that just to pull a stupid prank on us. It was probably just some weird, non American mumbo jumbo that made our voices weird. I wonder what Tavish sounds like. He'll probably sound sillier than everyone because of his funny accent, but he'll still sound nice. Tavish has a good voice for telling stories , Soldier rambles in his head.
The smoke begins to clear and as Soldier gets closer to Medic, his eyes are able to pick up his familiar lab coat. Medic is currently hunched over someone, muttering to himself.
Panic resurfaces and Soldier quickly crawls the rest of the way, his stupid legs giving out on him.
He resists the urge to rip Medic out of the way when he roughly fists Medic's shoulder.
"Doc, is Tav-"
Medic turns towards him fully.
Soldier's words stop dead in his mouth.
The Doctor looks back at him wide-eyed, but they examine him in the same way that Soldier is probably looking at him right now.
Medic looks significantly younger. The white in his hair is gone along with most of the lines on his face.
The man that he's staring at right now can’t be older than 30.
"...It is what Heavy feared," a less gruff version of Heavy's voice speaks, drawing Soldier's attention away from the disturbing image of young Medic to the much more disturbing image of a younger Heavy.
The cut on Heavy's head is healed and he looks to be just a little bit younger than Medic. Most of the lines under his eyes and mouth, along with a few scars, are gone.
He also has a full head of light brown hair. Heavy lifts up a hand and brushes his hair back, but rips his hand away as if his own hair burned him.
Soldier spots his reflection in his peripheral vision and whirls towards it.
There, reflected back in a cracked mirror, is him, more than two decades younger than he should be.
His hair is blonder than it has been in years and his face is smoother than the head of a bald eagle.
"Dear God," he whispers, and cringes when he realizes that he's missing the familiar deep, gruffness in his voice, the one that he's built from years of screaming commands and that one decade of chain smoking cigars like a maniac, desperately chasing a high that made him feel alive.
In fact, he's the spitting image of when he was 26, fresh out of his voluntary military service, getting his first taste of the glory of American patriotism and reveling in it for years to come.
He's looking at a time much before his "community work" got discovered by RED, before he got to truly command a unit that actually listened to him and appreciated his war efforts.
Before Tavish.
Tavish.
"Tavish-" Soldier starts but starts coughing, his baby lungs now unused to all the smoke around him. He growls, but even that aggravates his throat.
He's turned into a much softer, younger, weaker inexperienced version of himself and he hates it, but at least that hatred pushes him back to reality.
Medic nods and pats him on the back, soothing his coughs. Medic clears his throat and shuffles back.
"That's vhat ve vanted to show you."
Soldier frowns and directs his sight to the space that Medic was previously blocking.
His heart drops to his stomach in dread.
There, with his tiny, hatted head pillowed by Heavy's lap, is Tavish's unconscious 10 year old self. His clothes are the same, from his eye patch to his red work jumper, but they all shrunk to fit his smaller form.
Luckily, he's still breathing and looks unharmed, sleeping almost peacefully.
Soldier gawks at child Demoman-Demo lad with open horror.
Fuck.