Sometimes life gives you a chance to look back at your past. Medic got that chance. But will he be able to change something or stay the way he was? Changes are hard and not always worth it. Medic will have to make a decision. / Continuation of 'Adaptation' / No respawn / Rated for swearing and violence

A/N: I'm baaack :) Do you still remember me?

Since so many of you liked my previous story 'Adaptation', I decided to finally start writing the continuation. If you are new to this story please read the previous one, as it can't be read separately.

I had so many ideas for this one, but if I put everything this would never end :D Anyway this story will be longer, but I'm not sure how many chapters it will have. There may be some MedicxHeavy, but it will probably stay on the same level as in Adaptation. I might write a little bonus later ;)

'Priorities' will still concentrate on Medic's character development, but this time his interaction will be with the whole team. So everyone will be here :)

Time for my favourite reminder ;)

WARNING! I'm not English! So… sorry for the mistakes, don't kill me ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Team Fortress 2 or any of the characters.

Enjoy :)

Chapter 1

The thanking

There was darkness all around, deep and impenetrable. He couldn't see anything, even a hand in front of his face. There was completely nothing; no sky, no sun, no wind. But the darkness wasn't the worst thing. The complete silence was worse. He couldn't even hear his heartbeat or breathing. It was like a void. He looked desperately for anything that could fill the emptiness.

Then, finally, he spotted something. It was a small light, shining weakly in the distance. In all this darkness it almost felt blinding. He slowly started walking towards it. He didn't care what it was, he just wanted anything to fill this overwhelming emptiness. When the light was just in front of him and he outstretched his hand to touch it, he heard something. A sound so loud that it pierced his whole body with pain. A sound he knew very well. A gunshot.

Medic suddenly opened his eyes gasping for breath, his heart was beating quickly, as if it wanted to break free. A nightmare. When was the last time he had one of those? Many years ago, he thought.

Slowly relaxing his tense muscles, the Doctor tried to get rid of the terrible feeling after his dream. He didn't remember the whole nightmare, but two things were very clear: the feeling of emptiness and the sound of a gunshot. The last one made him remember what happened. The fight, 2Fort, injured Heavy and him being shot. The rest was blurred, but he recalled regaining consciousness and übering Heavy. What happened after that? Everything was unclear.

How long has it been since that fight? Breathing slowly, Medic tried to collect his thoughts. Judging from the ceiling he was currently looking at, he was in his room in 2Fort facility's RED base. But how he got here? The Doctor tried to slowly move his body. He had a small pain in his chest and he felt very weak, but despite that everything seemed fine.

The German started slowly rising from his bed when something moved in the corner of his eye. Alarmed, he quickly moved his head, only to see Heavy. The big man was sleeping peacefully on the Doctor's chair, his arms crossed on his chest. Medic stared surprised on his teammate for a few moments. He certainly didn't recall this. What exactly happened? Then the memory struck him. He remembered what he said just after the battle: 'Danke meine Freunde'. The German felt a sudden rush of warmth. What in the world made him say such a thing? He was supposed to be a professional, without feelings meddling in his job.

Slowly everything started coming back more clearly. He remembered his thoughts from that moment: why the team was fighting so well and what was happening with him. Those people knew each other and were like a family that can be trusted in any matter, and they wanted him to become a part of it. But was he ready for this? Did he really want it? He was still unsure. He survived this long because he followed his own rules and he didn't like the idea of doing something against himself. But that side of him, that he kept denying all this time, wanted to try make a change, even if only a little. Where those the emotions he locked up deep inside so many years ago? He have thought that they vanished already. But even if they were still there Medic was sure that he won't be able to use them any time soon. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

The Doctor looked at Heavy. Probably the big man will be still trying to change him, so he decided to wait for now and see what happens. He didn't know, yet, if he wanted to change and get rid of the walls that surrounded him and kept his emotions hidden. He was still instinctively trying to suppress the side of him that wanted to break free, because it was against his way of thinking. But you never know what the future will bring, thought Medic slowly rising to a sitting position. He was sure of one thing; that some part of him already changed.

The bed squeaked slightly when the Doctor was sitting up. He touched his chest hissing at the pain. The wound probably wasn't healed completely. He will have to use quick-fix to close it and regain some strength in his weak body. The German tried slowly to get out of bed, watching Heavy closely. He didn't want the big man to wake up, but his squeaking bed didn't cooperate. The noise made the Russian to open his eyes in alarm, but when he saw his friend conscious he smiled brightly.

"Doctor is awake!" he said, straightening himself in the chair and giving Medic a careful look, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Herr Heavy," said the German, trying to sit at the edge of the bed. He was still wobbly, but at least he managed to sit up straight. He noticed that he was wearing his pyjamas. Chest and shoulder were covered in bandages. Someone, probably Engineer, must have taken care of his wound, but he couldn't remember anything.

"That is good. We all worried when Doctor lose consciousness."

"Herr Heavy vhat happened after zhe battle?" asked Medic with confusion.

"Doctor lost consciousness just after battle end. Engineer say you lost lots of blood. We take you here, heal and put to bed. I stay to look if everything was all right."

"And vhen vas zhat?"

"Yesterday. Now is late afternoon."

So I was unconscious for about 24 hours, thought the German. The fact that he survived was a miracle itself. Now he needed to check his wound and use the medigun to regain some strength. Medic tried to stand up, but the moment he was on his feet everything started spinning and his legs nearly gave up. If it wasn't for Heavy's quick reaction he probably would end up on the floor. The Russian grabbed him under the shoulders.

"Doctor should not get up yet," said the big man gently guiding the German back on the bed, "Is still very weak."

Medic just nodded. He breathed deeply, trying to get rid of the dizziness. He didn't expect to be this weak. He really needed to use quick-fix if he wanted to be back in shape for the next battle.

The Doctor rested his forehead on his hands and waited for everything to stop spinning. With the corner of his eye he looked at the big man. He was watching him closely with a mixture of worry and joy on his face. Only now the German noticed that Heavy's eyes looked very tired. He must have sat by his bed all night. Medic still wasn't used to this type of treatment. He always took care of himself and never depended on others. He should have asked the big man to leave, so he would be able to recover in peace, but that part of him, which was asleep for such a long time, didn't mind the help. He was even grateful in a way. However he didn't feel torn between those parts of him, yet. This other side of him was still small. He was more or less the same person as before, with a little difference, he discovered unknown feelings and emotions inside him, he just didn't know how to express them. The Doctor felt that the other side is growing stronger and it made him feel uncomfortable.

Finally everything stopped spinning and Medic lifted his head. He will let Heavy help him for now. The idea of ending up on the floor wasn't so tempting.

"Herr Heavy, I need to use my medigun," he said, trying slowly rise again, "Vill you help me?"

"Of course Doctor," the Russian smiled.

The Doctor was practically lifted from the bed by the big man. Despite his strength Heavy was very delicate, slowly guiding his friend out of the room into the medical bay.

This felt quite embarrassing for the German. He didn't like to be depend on others. He tried to move as quickly as possible, gesturing Heavy to take him to quick-fix. When Medic finally reached the medigun he skillfully switched all the buttons and, as soon as the machine came to life, he stood in front of it, letting the healing beam surround him. The Russian was still supporting him, but now, when the healing started, the Doctor quickly reigned his strength.

Medic breathed out deeply. Finally he was able to move without stumbling over his own feet. He moved slightly away from the big man, wanting to get his personal space back. He started to feel quite uncomfortable with Heavy's staring. He already reached the point when he really wanted to be left alone.

"Danke Herr Heavy," Medic tried to switch the big man's attention somewhere else, but not on him, "I feel better now, but I vill rest some more."

"That is good," the Russian smiled warmly, "Everyone very worried, so now be happy to hear that. They waiting in mess hall."

"Are zhey alright?"

"Engineer take care of everyone. Doctor no need to worry."

"Vhat happened during zhe battle end, Herr Heavy? I do not remember much," Medic switched off quick-fix. He wanted to be left alone, but he needed to know what exactly happened, to be prepared for the examination he wanted to give the team to make sure everyone was alright.

"When Doctor shot, I take you to Engineer," said Heavy, sitting on one of the chairs, still carefully watching his friend, "He take out bullet and heal with dispenser. Little BLU were coming, so we stay on courtyard to guard. Then Doctor…Doctor stop breathing."

The German looked at the big man with shock. He was this close to death. Chills ran down his spine with the thought. This was war so he should be ready for this, but still it was shocking that he was nearly dead for a few seconds. The Doctor again looked at Heavy, about to ask how they managed to keep him alive, but stopped when he saw the big man's expression. It was filled with pain, worry, loss. It looked like he must have suffered a lot when Medic almost died. The Doctor still didn't know why the big man cared so much. Everything was confusing, but he felt a small twinge of pain inside, when looking at his teammate's face. He didn't know how to react, so he just looked away.

"We think you dead," resumed Heavy, still with a sad look, "But Scout started press your chest. Little man didn't want to give up. I give up then…I angry at myself now. Doctor is important friend and I not help you."

The German tried to say something reassuring, but he had no idea what and how. Finally he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I vould be dead if you didn't bring me to Herr Engineer, and for zhat I zhank you Herr Heavy."

It sounded strange coming from his mouth, but he had to say it. The Russian could just leave him but, yet he helped. He owned him his life.

"Spasiba Doctor," this time the big man's eyes brightened up when he looked at Medic with gratitude.

"Vhat happened zhen?"

"BLUs come with über. I protect sentry and Engineer. Scout was shouting to you. We think we all be dead, but I feel über then. I not think, just fire. Then battle end. We lose, but team happy that Doctor is alive. I very happy. When you sleep Engineer take care of us. Lots of bullets to takeout," Heavy grinned at the last sentence.

"I vill have to zake a look on everyone's injuries, just to make sure," the German just hoped that he won't have much to do, because he wanted to use the ceasefire to take a proper rest before the fighting starts again.

"Doctor not forget, that you need to rest."

Medic just nodded and started unbuttoning his shirt. He wanted to make sure that there was no damage to his chest, that quick-fix didn't manage to heal. He carefully took off the bandages and examined himself. He had to admit, that the Texan did a good job tending his wound. There was no sign of the bullet hole and he didn't feel anything wrong inside.

"Herr Heavy, I vill rest now," said the German preparing to go back to his room. He needed to change and eat something.

"I bring Doctor dinner," said the big man, as if reading his mind. He got up quickly and headed towards the infirmary exit, "You not work, but rest," and with that he left.

Medic just sighed and went to his room to change into his uniform. Knowing the Russian, he will probably tell everybody in the mess hall about the Doctor's recovery and most likely everyone will come to see him. The German wasn't eager for more company, but he was sure he won't be able to stop them. He just didn't want to be seen in his nightwear. The good side of this is that he'll be able to check if everyone in RED team was alright.

The RED team…his team… When he thought about it now, if it weren't for them, especially Engineer, Scout and Heavy, he would be dead. He already thanked the Russian, but Medic had a feeling that he'll have to talk to the Texan and the runner too. He didn't feel like he owns them a favor; he saved their lives many times. The fact was, he was doing his obligations, they did something they didn't have to. Engineer could just left him by the dispenser and Scout could focus on the battle. And yet they didn't. They helped him despite the danger. The Doctor knew that it will be hard for him, but he'll have to thank them. He didn't like the idea of it, but this time it was different. That small part in him wanted to do it. The problem was that he didn't know how.

A loud knocking on the infirmary door disturbed the German's thoughts. He adjusted the tie and went out of his room. Better to be over it quickly, thought Medic as he told the team to enter.

First was Heavy with a plate of sandwiches and a steaming cup of coffee. After him came the rest of the team. They instantly surrounded the Doctor, asking how was he feeling. The German backed away slightly and tried to answer, but their shouting made it practically impossible, so he just waited patiently for them to calm down. He noticed now that Engineer and Pyro weren't here. They probably were in the Texan's workshop.

"Gentlemen, please," finally said Spy, rising his glowed hand, "Do not shout, you will make all of us deaf. 'ow are you feeling Docteur?"

"I am fine, I already healed myself," answered the German.

"That is good to 'ear," the masked man leaned on one of the chairs, scanning the Doctor carefully, "The situation was quite chaotic and we were concerned that Docteur will need more time to recover."

"Toymaker patched ye nicely," Demoman hit himself in the chest with a grin, "As he did fer' us. In the next fight we'll be killin' those wee lasses with no mercy. You'll be alright Doc?"

"Do not vorry, I vill be fine," this started to become irritating. He was able to fight even if wounded, so the fact that he was a bit weaker didn't mean that he won't take part in the next battle.

"Great!" Scout started punching the air with enthusiasms, "We need some fuckin' revenge here!"

"There will be time for revenge," said Spy seriously, "But first we need to concentrate on obtaining some points. The Administrator was not pleased with our last performance."

"She talked to ye?" the Scotsman nervously scratched his head. No one liked to talk about the Administrator.

"Oui. And she will not tolerate more failures."

"Tell her she doesn't need to worry," Soldier straighten up eyeing everyone, "We'll crush the BLU maggots without fail!"

"Ya bet Sol!" said Scout, "We'll beat the fuckin' crap outta them! We just need'a plan."

Medic silently stood there, leaning on his desk, listening to everyone. He didn't like the fact that his office turned into a meeting room, but at least he was out of their attention. In fact he wasn't as irritated as he thought he would be. He was somehow used to their yelling and talking, to Scout's swearing and Soldier's shouting. It was like it became a part of his daily life. It was still annoying, but he didn't mind it much now. The Doctor noticed that he was even listening to what the team was saying, despite the fact that it was often nonsense. Was it because of that small emotional part in him? If yes, he didn't mind. It could help him adapt.

While watching his team the German noticed something. Sniper was standing by the door to the medical bay with an absent look. He didn't say anything since he came here. This wasn't unusual, but he always took part in planning the strategies for upcoming battles. When he looked up and saw that Medic was watching him, he looked away with a strange expression. It was a mixture of worry, sadness, anger and…guilt. Why would the Australian feel guilty? Maybe something happened during or after the battle, thought the Doctor, carefully watching the tall man. Sniper was clearly averting his look. Whatever it was, the gunner will have to get over it. The German wasn't a type of person to confront someone if they had a problem. Sniper will have to do it himself.

The debate over the next battle seemed to go nowhere, as Medic switched his attention back to the team. The only difference was that Soldier was now shouting at Scout about a lack of logic in his plans. If this continue, they will be sitting here all night. The German changed his position uncomfortably. He was tired and hungry. The only thing he wanted now was to eat, take a shower and lie in bed for the rest of the evening. Heavy must've noticed Doctor's expression, as he smacked Soldier in the head making him quiet, but only for a few seconds.

"I think that is enough for now," he said looking at the team, "Doctor need rest so we go now and talk later."

With that the team started leaving the infirmary, still mostly yelling at each other with the difference that the American aimed his anger at the big man. Heavy didn't pay much attention. He just smiled at Medic, pointed the plate and left together with the noisy team. Sniper glanced once more at the German before he left. He looked like he wanted to say something, but quickly changed his mind.

Finally the Doctor was alone. He sighed and decided not to worry now. The thing with the Australian will probably solve itself sooner or later. For now he needed a good rest, if he wanted to do his work properly the next day.

It was late evening. Most of the team was either in the mess hall or in their rooms. The hallway was empty and quiet. Only the buzzing of the lamps disturbed the silence. Medic was slowly making his way downstairs, where Engineer's workshop was. The Doctor was a little nervous. He wanted to leave the talk with the Texan for next day, but the thoughts about it didn't give him peace. He didn't like to leave unfinished business, so he decided to have it done.

As the German got closer to the workshop he slightly began to panic. He still didn't have any idea what to say. He just wanted to turn back and shut himself in his office, but sooner or later he would be coming back. That small part in him was responsible for this and the fact that it was growing so fast was making him very unsecure and anxious. This was against his rules and, yet he was again going to thank someone. Medic hoped that maybe this will go smoothly just like when he was talking to Heavy, it came so easily, almost naturally. Maybe this time will be similar?

When the Doctor reached the workshop, he stopped, unsure what to do next. The door was slightly open and there was light coming from inside, so the Texan was still there, working, and Pyro was probably with him. The German held his breath and knocked. There was no response so he knocked again, louder this time. He heard some rumbling and crashing and a loud curse.

"Dagnabit damit! Blasted machine! Come in!" Engineer yelled irritated.

Medic carefully opened the door and stepped into the workshop. He newer was here before, despite the Texan's invitations. It was a big room without windows, below ground level. The ceiling was quite high and supported with metal bars. The workshop itself was a complete mess. Everything was everywhere. Machines, tools, guns, scraps of metal were scattered all around. There were cabinets by the walls also filled with all sorts of things. In the middle of this chaos stood a big table with blueprints, pencils, rulers, everything that could be useful for designing machines on paper. There were also some smaller cabinets, with stuff practically falling out of them, and a few chairs.

Engineer was crouching by one of the machines, next to the table, holding his bleeding hand. When he saw who was his guest, he stood up with a surprised look and was about to say something, but Medic didn't get the chance to hear that. Something hit him in the chest and before he knew it, he was in a strong hug. Pyro tightly wrapped his hands around him, mumbling something with an excited voice.

The Doctor winced and tensed up. Physical contact was something he clearly disliked. What's more his chest started to hurt, because of the impact. He tried to free himself, but the Pyrotechnic held him firmly.

"Pyro, let him go or ya'll brake his bones," said Engineer with a smile.

To the German's relief, the fire lover let him go, mumbling something that sounded like an apology. Medic backed up quickly, straightened his lab coat and gave the Pyrotechnic a stern look.

"It's good to see ya walkin' again Doc," the mechanic took off his goggles and carefully looked at his teammate, "How are ya fellin'?"

"I am fine now," answered the Doctor.

"I heard from the guys that ya're awake, but I couldn't come since I'm tryin' to fix this darn machine. It doesn't want to cooperate."

"I can see zhat. Please show me your hand."

"Oh, this little scratch is nothin', don't ya worry Doc."

Engineer waved his hand to show he was alright, but Pyro mumbled something and went to one of the cabinets. He came back with a first aid kit and handed it to Medic.

"Ya're overreactin' firebug," said the Texan with a scowl, but the Doctor didn't listen. He took the mechanic's hand and examined it carefully. The cut wasn't big, but it was quite deep. The German took the kit from the Pyrotechnic, guided Engineer to the table and started tending the wound.

"Really Doc, I don't think it's that serious," Engineer sat on the chair and watched Medic's work.

"Mphmm mm mhp mmmp," mumbled Pyro with something that sounded like a whine, pointing his finger at his friend.

"Stop complaining, I'm always careful," glared the mechanic.

The Doctor gave him a skeptical look and started disinfecting the wound. With all this mess around it was a miracle that the Texan has never got an infection.

"It's that darn machine. I've been workin' on her for some time now," said Engineer in defense, "Anyway, it's good to see that ya're all right Doc. I was worried that I mighta messed somethin' up."

The German flinched slightly. This was the perfect opportunity to do what he came here for, but he still didn't know how to start. He looked at the mechanic. He had a troubled expression with a mixture of worry and guilt. This didn't help. Medic breached slowly. He decided that he'll just start talking and see how this goes.

"Don't vorry Herr Engineer," he began slowly, "You did a good job. In fact if… if it vasn't for your help… if you didn't zake zhat bullet out, I would be probably dead now. For zhat I zhank you."

After hearing this the Texan's face brightened up and he smiled. He looked like some heavy burden was taken off his shoulders. He must've been really worried that he did more harm than good by taking the bullet out. It was surprising for Medic that a simple act of thanking would bring so much relief and happiness. But what's important he was glad that it went so smoothly. Although he stammered a little, he managed to say it properly and not make a fool of himself. He felt something inside, something warm, but couldn't name it.

"You're welcome pardner," said the mechanic with a nod, "Happy I could help."

"Your hand is fine now Herr Engineer," the Doctor looked away, quickly changing the subject. The atmosphere was becoming too intense for him. He was glad that the situation turned out alright, but this was enough for him.

"Mph mm pmmh," said Pyro, crossing his hands on his chest.

"Yes, yes, I'll be more careful," the Texan looked at his hand and grinned at his friend, "You're really worrying too much. And thanks Doc."

The German just nodded. He wanted to leave and finally be alone. This was enough for one day. He got up and was about to leave when the Pyrotechnic grabbed his hand and started mumbling something. Medic just looked expectantly at the mechanic, waiting for translation. It was a mystery for him how Engineer managed to understand anything.

"Firebug, that's a good idea," the Texan stood up and went to the machine he was fixing, "This is a new model of mah dispenser I've been workin' on for some time. I wanted to speed up the healin' process, but it's glitchin'. Pyro asked if ya mighta help me. If ya don't mind, of course."

Medic looked at the machine analyzing the situation. Despite the fact that he wanted to be alone, this actually was a good idea. He would be concentrated on work and not the company. He wasn't tired and he would go to bed late anyway. Besides this machine could help him on the battlefield. The Doctor nodded and joined Engineer.

It was late at night. Medic was making his way through the empty hallways, back to his room. He and the mechanic were so absorbed in the work that they didn't realize how late it was until Pyro fell asleep by the table. They didn't move forward much because they were stuck with the blueprints, trying to figure out what was wrong with the machine. This will take some time, thought the Doctor, stretching his back, but he didn't mind. He liked to work with the mechanic. He was concrete and professional.

Medic was about to turn around the corner when something hit him hard in the chest. He stumbled backwards, hissing at the sudden pain. This was getting annoying, he thought, trying to catch his breath. If someone will hit him like this again, he'll never recover.

"Fuck! Doc are ya alright?!" shouted a familiar voice.

The German looked up to see Scout's worried face. His hair was soaking wet so he probably was coming from the showers. Why does he have to run everywhere, thought the Doctor straightening up and eyeing the runner.

"I'm fine," he said giving the boy a hard look.

"Sorry Doc. I didn't know someone'll be here at this hour. Shit! I didn't hurt ya, did I?" the runner started to panic.

"Really, I am fine. And stop yelling, it's late."

"Sorry…"

The Bostonian had a troubled look. He gave Medic a quick glance and was about to leave, when the Doctor remembered something.

"Herr Scout wait," he said without thinking, "I heard vhat you did during yesterday at the end of the battle."

The runner stopped and looked shocked at his teammate. He seemed embarrassed remembering about that.

"Oh…that thing," he said averting the German's gaze, "I didn't mess up, right?"

"No you didn't. In fact I vanted to zhank you. You voke me up zhen, Herr Scout."

The Bostonian's face brightened up after hearing that and he gave Medic a big grin.

"No problem Doc! I'm yer man!" he said patting the Doctor on the shoulder, gently this time, "If ya ever need me just shout!"

"Herr Scout, it's night. Be quiet," Medic glared at the boy again.

"Hehe sorry. By the way, what are ya doin' here Doc? We thought ya'd be restin'."

"I had some business with Herr Engineer. Now if you'll excuse me, I vould like to go to my room."

"Sure Doc. See ya tomorrow," yelled Scout and sprinted in the other way, waving his hand.

Medic sighed and smiled slightly. The Bostonian had too much energy for his own good. The good part of this was that the Doctor had the thanking problem behind him. He didn't expect that he'll be able to talk to Scout today. When he saw him he started talking without much thought. Everything went better than he expected. He managed to say everything… so naturally, that it surprised him. The most important thing for now was that it was out of his head and he didn't need to worry about it anymore. He'll be able to concentrate on his work. Now, however he just wanted to sleep. This day was very tiresome and he still was a little bit weak. The German just hoped the next day won't be stressful. He had enough for now.