This fic is going to be more of an experiment (no pun intended). Everyone seems to make Medic more of a grumpy, caring, sarcastic, and almost fatherly kind of guy who deeply cares about his teammates and is essentially the team mom. But the fact is, he's a creepy psychopath with an organ fetish who is prone to bouts of mad excitement. Which, as it turns out, is hard to write, so I really don't blame them. This is just my own sad attempt at it.

I tried to make this a comedy at Scout's expense, but to me it sort of devolved to plain old stupid. I'm listing it as a comedy anyway. So there.

NOTE: The story has now been revised.

"Archimedes? Archimedeees!"

The RED Medic was making his way around the Viaduct base, trying to find his favorite dove. He realized he hadn't seen the bird in several weeks. He was afraid that he might have been left behind at the previous base, but he wanted to be sure he wasn't just hiding somewhere. He was such a curious dove; he was always ending up in places he shouldn't be.

"Archimedes?" He called out again, chancing a look behind the fridge. "Vhere have you gone, my little dove?"

"Oy, what're ya doin' back there, doc?" Medic looked up to see Sniper leaning against the doorframe, looking rather amused.

"Herr Sniper, I can't seem to find Archimedes anyvhere. Have you happened to see him recently?"

"Nah, mate," the bushman replied. "I haven't seen 'im. When was the last toime you've seen 'im?"

"Zhe last I saw of him..." Medic thought aloud, resting a finger on his chin, "...vould be after I gave Scout his heart transplant..." His eyes went wide in realization. "Of course! I'd caught Archimedes in Heavy's cavity during his procedure! Of course he vould have tried zhe same vizh Scout! Now all I have to do is find him. Danke, Sniper," he added with a grin and stalked off, leaving the marksman to sadly shake his head at the fate of their runner.

It didn't take too long to find Scout. He'd been in the Resupply Room, wiping the dried blood from his bat with a cloth and talking animatedly with Pyro about some stupid topic that the firebug seemed genuinely interested in.

"So I says to 'er, 'I got a bucket o' fried chicken,' and- Oh, hey doc. Whassup?"

"Hello, Herr Scout, Herr Pyro. I vas vondering vhere you'd gone."

"Mhd mhr mmhd mrrphmm?" Pyro asked.

"Yes. I have... somezhing to ask of Scout," Medic replied.

"Well, can it wait? Py and I're busy talkin' here," Scout said, gesturing wildly between himself and Pyro.

"No, it cannot," Medic answered sternly. In a lower voice he said, "Vhy don't you come vizh me so ve can discuss zhe issue in private?" Scout gulped. Medic never used that tone of voice unless he was eager for something, and he was only eager for something when that something was cutting someone open. Nevertheless, he nodded, giving Pyro a sullen wave.

"Sorry, Py. I'll finish da story later."

"Mhrrphrr."

Scout followed Medic for several minutes, growing more and more uneasy all the while. They'd already passed a lot of private places, but the doctor stopped at none of them. This did nothing to comfort the runner, especially knowing that this was the route to a certain room.

"Look," he blurted, breaking the silence, "dis ain't about me diggin' through your stuff, is it?"

"No, it's not about- vait, you did vhat?!"

"I didn't do nothin', jeeze!" Scout defended. "But, ah, why don't you tell me what dis is all about, huh?"

Instead of answering him, Medic put an ear to the immediately protesting Scout's chest. Sure enough, he could hear a faint cooing coming from inside. "It is as I zhought," he said, drawing himself away from the younger merc. "It seems zhat Archimedes has been in your chest zhis whole time."

"Uh, yeah," agreed Scout. "You're da one who put him dere, remember?"

"Vhat can I say?" Medic asked with a shrug. "He has a mind of his own."

"Yeah, okay, so is dat all ya wanted or no, 'cuz I got a story to get back to." As he turned to walk away, Medic placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his glasses glinting in the dim hallway light.

"Nein," he replied darkly, "he can't stay in zhere, you know."

(...)

Sometimes Scout wondered why he let the old quack get away with the things he did.

The runner had found himself in a nervous daze, and when he'd fully come to, he'd been strapped to a metal bed by his wrists and ankles with a madly grinning Medic looming over him. He recalled the last time he'd been in this position and shuddered. He was relieved that he'd finally be rid of the stupid bird pecking at his insides, but while Medic was likely one of the best doctors on the continent, Scout couldn't trust that he wouldn't put something else in his body that wasn't supposed to be there.

"Are you ready for your operation, Herr Scout?" Medic asked in a low voice. He was definitely looking forward to the procedure far more than Scout was.

"Ah hell no I ain't ready!" Scout cried, trying to get off the bed. He remembered then that he was in restraints, and he paled.

"Please, don't struggle so much," the doctor said, placing the Medigun on its mount and fiddling with the settings. "It vouldn't do if I made a wrong cut somevhere."

Not at all pleased with the current situation, Scout nevertheless stopped moving, letting his head rest against the cold metal. "Alright. Jus' do what ya gonna do, doc."

Medic gave him a deceptively warm smile, then flipped a switch on the Medigun, waiting for it to hum to life as its warm red glow settled over the younger merc's body. Then, after he made sure he had a fresh pair of clean gloves, he pulled over a rolling tray, on top of which was a large selection of sharp objects, very few of which looked like proper surgical tools.

"I'm sure you remember how zhis goes," said Medic, picking up and inspecting an oddly wicked-looking scalpel. "You stay perfectly still vhile I just take a peek at your internal organs. It'll be over zhat quick. Oh, and zhis is going to hurt."

That was all the warning Scout had before the scalpel was plunged into the flesh on the right side of his collarbone. He held back a scream with gritted teeth, shaking under the doctor's hand as it slowly crossed to the other side. Just when he thought he was going to pass out, the Medigun began to take effect, calming the nerves around the cut. The pain was still there, but it had dulled to a harsh throb.

The second cut, another horizontal line just above his navel, was just as excruciating. To his credit, he held back the scream in his throat, but his body trembled with the effort, his hands clenching and unclenching. The Medigun finally caught this mark as well, the throbbing joining that of the first.

Medic placed a firm hand over Scout's heart to hold him down before making the third cut. That one by far was the most excruciating. Scout tried to hold still, but his limbs still thrashed as a scream finally escaped him. It seemed to take forever, but Medic eventually lifted the scalpel from the cut that extended from Scout's collar to his navel, connecting the previous two marks. As soon as that part was done, the runner fell back against the bed, panting.

"Very good, Scout," Medic said as he wiped a spot of blood from his glasses with the hem of his shirt. Admittedly he'd gotten a little... excited. "You did much better zhan zhe last time. It vas a miracle I didn't destroy a lung by mistake!"

"Yeah, yeah," Scout groaned, still in pain. The Medigun was keeping him alive, but only just. With the settings set so low, it was unable to soothe the pain from anything the mad doctor did or planned to do. "Couldn't ya have, I dunno, given me some painkillers or somethin'?"

"Oh, no!" Medic replied with a dismissive hand. "You react so strongly to zhese zhings. I'd hate for you to go into shock."

Scout groaned again. "Fine, jus' get dis over with, alright?"

"Ja, ja," Medic mumbled distractedly, using a pair of some sort of scissors to cut away the excess flaps of skin, earning him a wince and a hiss from his patient. With that done, all of Scout's insides were exposed for the world to see. Medic's eyes gleamed with mad excitement as his hands hovered over the various organs.

"Now for zhe fun part."

Medic plunged his gloved hands into the thick of the organs, jostling them. Scout squirmed, more out of discomfort than pain. Medic was at least taking care to not bruise the sensitive tissue. He jumped at the doctor's sudden exclamation of surprise.

"Ach! Vhat in zhe vorld is zhis?!" In Medic's hands, as far from Scout's body as it would allow without tearing tissue, was a soggy, swollen, red mess. It was sleek with a yellow liquid, and Medic knew that, if he looked inside, the flesh would be far too porous. Some of the pores might have carried either fat or more of the mysterious liquid. "Mein Gott, is zhis a liver?! How zhe hell are you even alive?!"

"What? What's wrong widdit?!" Scout started to panic.

"Vell, just look at it!" Medic held the offending organ higher so Scout could see-with eyes now watering in pain from the organ that had fully detached itself from his body. "It must be zhose energy drinks you're so fond of. Respawn must be zhe only zhing keeping you alive, vizh zhe state zhis is in!"

"What're ya talkin' about? I'm totally healthy!"

"Nein! Ve must get you a transplant immediately!"

"No way, man! Not a chance!" Scout argued, uselessly pulling at his restraints. "I want you to get dis damn bird outta me an' leave da rest 'a me da hell alone, ya got dat?!"

"Ja, very vell," Medic relented, placing the mutilated organ in its proper spot. "But it vill be your funeral vunce your contract runs out." If their contracts even did.

"Yeah, yeah, just get ya damn pigeon."

"Dove," Medic automatically corrected him, already plunging his hand back into the young merc's body. A few annoyed grumbles and oddly-timed spurts of blood later, the doctor let out an ecstatic cry as he carefully removed the small white bird. It was covered in blood, as per usual, but seemed no worse for wear. In fact, no bird should look as self-satisfied as this one did.

"Oh thank God, finally!" Scout exclaimed.

"Ohhh, Archimedes!" Medic cooed, rubbing the dove under its chin. "You are such a rascal! Vhat vere you doing in zhere, silly bird?"

"This is all so touching," his patient interrupted, "but ya think ya can close me up so I can leave?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Medic gently shooed Archimedes away before strolling over to the Medigun. A few switches and knob turns later, it was running at full power. It took only a moment for the liver to reattach itself and for the Scout's body to finally knit itself shut. Once it was over, Scout closed his eyes, spent from the whole experience and welcoming the painlessness in his body.

Medic pressed a button and shut off the Medigun. With a satisfied smirk, he snapped off his gloves and meandered up to the side of the bed.

"See? Zhat vasn't so bad, ja?"

Scout groaned.

(...)

"THE CAPTURE POINT IS NOW AVAILABLE."

The following day, as always, was a massacre. Rockets, bullets, bodies, and sticky bombs crowded the skies so thickly the battling mercenaries could hardly see each other. BLU's Pyro, Heavy, and Medic were crowding the point, attempting a capture. A few well-placed backstabs from the RED Spy eliminated their threat, but he was quickly gunned down by the enemy Sniper, who in turn was killed by a stray rocket. From his hiding spot, the RED Engineer had managed to set up a Sentry, while Pyro made sure to keep any possible Spies at bay.

Hiding in another location was Medic, Heavy, and Scout, preparing their strategy.

"So here's zhe plan," Medic whispered. "Heavy und I vill prepare for an UberCharge vhile you go und capture zhe point, since you can capture it zhe fastest. Take care of anyvun zhe Sentry doesn't, und if you have trouble, Sniper vill cover you." The doctor glanced upwards to see the bushman waving down at them from his vantage point. "As soon as ve can, ve vill assist you vizh zhe capture. Understood?"

"Yeah, I gotcha," was Scout's reply.

"Good. Now go!"

And Scout was up, making a mad dash for the point. As he made contact with it, an angry BLU Demoman charged from around the corner. But the smaller merc was quick, and easily dispatched him with a body shot from his scattergun. He continued to pace back and forth, never standing in one place for long. Behind him the BLU Soldier fell, shovel in hand, with a bullet hole on one side of his oversized helmet.

This was taking a while.

Suddenly, there was a shout of "Spy sappin' my Sentry!" By the time Scout had turned around it was too late; BLU's Pyro, apparently having Respawned sooner than expected, had wedged his axe firmly into the runner's head. After that, everything went downhill.

"YOU FAILED!"

(...)

When Scout came to, he saw an angry Medic looming over him, arms crossed and foot tapping irritably.

"Vhy didn't you capture zhe point?"

"Why're ya blamin' me for dis?" Scout shot back. "I did what ya told me to! It ain't my fault dat deir Pyro spawned early!"

"Vhy vas it taking you so long in zhe first place?"

"I don't know! I didn't do anythin' different! Jeeze, get off my back..."

Medic was puzzled. Scout said he didn't do anything different than what he normally did, and that definitely appeared to be so. So why was he capturing the point so slowly? Scout capped points faster than anyone on the team. It was almost like having two people on the point! But to go from two to one, right after the procedure, was an interesting coincidence. Could something have happened then?

Ah.

"I've got it!" Medic suddenly exclaimed, startling the younger merc. "Zhe point increases its capture rate vizh more people standing on it, yes? You counted as two because Archimedes vas inside of you! Zhe capture point reads life forms! It all makes sense!"

Scout didn't think so. But apparently it was important, so against his better judgment, he asked, "So, uh... what're we gonna do now?"

Bad question. Medic had that look in his eyes again. "Oh, I have a few ideas..." He only hoped the Administrator wouldn't find out.

(...)

Now serving Number 2.

"Ahh, shit!" Scout exclaimed as he walked out of Medic's office, clutching his throbbing chest. "I thought I was done with dis... Sol, doc says you're up." But even Soldier, with all his manly American bravado, wanted nothing to do with this procedure.

When he didn't immediately go inside, Medic came out, doves perched on his head, shoulders, and any other available surface.

"Come along, Herr Soldier! But don't vorry, zhere vill still be plenty for everyvun!"

I'm starting to notice that a lot of my fics have some seriously dark undertones... Well, I hope this was enjoyable. Don't forget to tell me what you thought! ;)