Visiting Hours

[hasstandards]

Characters: RED Sniper (hasstandards), BLU Sniper (bye_to_yer_head), RED Pyro (notintehkitchen), Chibiterasu (chibibrushheir), and you!*
When: Mid-December
Where: Hospital
Rating: PGish
Summary: RED Sniper awakens in the hospital, having been dragged there after his rescue. His injuries are severe, but he's about to get some visitors.

* Feasibly, he could have several visitors with the span of time he

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[hasstandards]

Sniper eyed the syringe, a defiant hunger in his eyes. He loathed everything about the situation: being unarmed, being trapped, being dependent. As a man who had spent the majority of his life in the Outback, surviving on his own without another sole for company, he'd learned to thrive on that solitude, to use his independence to his advantage. To find himself suddenly cut off from it was like throwing a fish out of the water.

As much as he loathed all of those things, he knew they pushed him to adapt- he had to accept the changes for now. There was no other way, save for testing the respawn system of Paradise to see just how bad it was first-hand. As much as he despised his bed-ridden state, the thought of giving up like that burned his pride even more. That meant he had to keep shifting, changing as the situation called for it. Change was something he resisted in normal circumstances, as he was perfectly happy with who he was and what he was doing.

This was not a normal circumstance. He allowed himself that much.

He swallowed that feeling building in his gut down. The signs he was considering it appeared on his face. "It's not going to knock me out for days, is it? Because I've lost more already than I'm comfortable with."

[hasstandards]

"I'd believe it, giving how I'm feeling right about now," Sniper said miserably, still feeling dull throbs emanating from his more serious injuries. His nose was the worst of all, though given his recent lack of control over his temper, he supposed it shouldn't have been a surprise. Every sneer and grimace sent another wave through him, renewing the headache building behind his eyes.

He eyed the syringe warily. He'd never been übercharged before, and wasn't sure what to expect; it wasn't something he felt like admitting at that point, though given his position on the team, he wasn't exactly the best choice for it. He suspected it was likewise on the other RED teams. He filled the silence, wanting to cover his trepidation. "I s'ppose I should be thankful they managed to piece me back together at all."

[hasstandards]

"That's right," Sniper said. "Four years, about." He moved his eyes, averting them from the needle. He loathed that feeling of utter dependence, that need for care when he lacked the ability to take care of himself; however, the constant pain running through his limbs pushed him toward uneasy compliance. He took a breath- he could suffer it for now. He had no other choice.

He assumed Pyro had told Medic about his being from Sawmill; however, he couldn't recall if she'd mentioned where the doctor himself had been stationed. "You?"

[hasstandards]

Hydro, one of the fields Sniper hadn't yet seen. Or would never see, if things were as bad as he expected and they weren't able to return to their time. He wanted to question Medic about it, but was cut off by the needle being pushed into his arm sharply. The liquid that was drained into him burned briefly as it laced his bloodstream, the fire giving way to a tingling sensation; after that came nothing at all as his skin and muscles began to relax and numb.

It started at the point of entry, his splinted fingers beginning to burn. He forced himself to concentrate on Medic's words, which sounded more like a warning to his ears. He raised an eyebrow- they'd lost another Engineer, as well? And he didn't recognize the other name at all. The key factor that stuck with him wasn't Pyro's loss or the fact that people apparently came and went from Paradise on a frequent basis; it was that he was now the only other member from Sawmill, and Medic's tone had taken an undeniably dark turn. That was a threat, plain and simple.

There was a part that he couldn't put together- why did Medic care so much for someone who wasn't even his teammate? True, they had the same boss, but that was it; it wasn't like the camaraderie Pyro expected of him because they'd worked together before. Sniper put it together as a pang shot through his knee, stimulating his mind to work: how long had the two of them been trapped in Paradise together?

He snorted, his hand starting to lose feeling as the burning feeling crawled up his bicep. There was a reason he distanced himself from people- the threat of losing them was something that goaded people into blind actions, that forced them into a position where they could be ordered around without question. Without his parents, he no longer had that attachment, that singular object that could be turned against him if he didn't toe the line. It had been a problem in their time, but no longer.

Medic let himself get too deep, but Sniper was not about to let himself be pushed into that place again simply because he came from the same base as Pyro. "Back up, Doc. We ain't family. We work together, and that's it."

[hasstandards]

Ire rose in Sniper, bubbling in his chest as Medic's threats continued, that horrid garment being brought into the conversation. He shifted as the feeling of the medicine in him continued to claw its way up, his shoulder burning next.

"Sounds like a threat, Doc," Sniper said between breaths, his eyes hardening. "If you want this family job so bad, you can have it. I didn't ask for any of this."

[hasstandards]

Medic's tone did not go unnoticed, though any reply Sniper had prepared died before it escaped him as he tried to cut off a groan that pushed out of him, that fiery sensation scaling down the side of his ribcage. He felt his heart beginning to pound in his chest; he took a deep breath in reaction, trying to slow it down.

That left him with no answer for Medic's question- not that it was an easy one to answer even with a clear head. He'd been puzzling over that one since his rescue, even as he was bleeding onto his rival's shoulder, his life dependent on the other man's aid. He grimaced, reminded again of his own incapacity as he was trapped in the hospital- apparent freedom was only feet away, but he had no way of getting to it.

He said nothing, but kept his eyes trained on the doctor beside his bed. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear his opinion on the matter.

[hasstandards]

Sniper's teeth gritted together as he met with his inward frustration; it welled in his gut, climbing into his chest like a creature making a nest. He didn't want to hear any more about how he owed his life to a man he was paid to kill, how he would have to eventually cross that bridge and deal with the conflict that was building inside him; however, he'd already found he couldn't move from the bed, his leg stuck in the prop, his left arm completely useless in the cast that bound it. With nowhere to go to vent, his vehemence manifested itself as a retort.

"Didn't do anyone a favor?" he snapped. "You sure about that? Sounds to me like you're both workin' for the same woman. Keep me in one piece so her precious little feelings don't get hurt? If you two like her so much, you can have her. I don't need her here, dressin' me up and pettin' me like some sort of a dog, insisting I eat. We're not friends, we're not family- we're not even comrades, as far as I'm concerned! We don't got the job in this wretched place, so we've got no reason to even talk to each other!"

He shoved down another feeling, one that reminded him that they did have something in common: they were the only two from their time and place left. That was a connection even he couldn't fully deny.

[hasstandards]

Sniper's breath quickened as that burning feeling began to pool in his chest. For a moment, he could have sworn he felt it push through the channels in his heart as it thundered in him, sending the concoction coursing through his neck.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, Medic had a point- there was no job here. Everything he'd built himself to be for the last decade ceased to exist as he'd been pulled from 'their world,' as the doctor put it. While he was sure others would have been happy to have someone- anyone- left, Sniper didn't consider himself so lucky. He couldn't abandon his standards so quickly, as he'd worked to ingrain them into the very fibre of his being; they dictated his actions, guided his hands, helped him maintain control. Without them, he was lost.

And perhaps that was why he'd been so lost since his arrival, struggling to get his feet under him. All he had been was slowly being stripped away: he no longer had his job, or his weapons, or the freedom he fought so hard to maintain. His pride had been battered to a point of nonrecognition. He was trapped in that bed with a dependence upon others much akin to a caged animal. He loathed it, and there was nothing he could do to change his circumstances at that point. That was the most infuriating thing.

His chest was beginning to numb as that white-hot sensation lapped at his jawline. He was forced to lean backward against the mountain of pillows as his spine felt weak, unsteady. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous, Doc."