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

Comments

[hasstandards]

"Nah," RED replied, his attention still on the work in his lap. He pulled another piece of the Machina to him, connecting the two. "Those Medics aren't much good for anything without their guns. He did give me somethin' for the pain though, so I s'ppose 'e's not completely useless." He had to admit that sleeping for a long while had felt good.

It was strange- though he was in the hospital, trapped in a bed due to his broken body, dressed in a ridiculous outfit, and fixing a gun that wasn't his for a man he'd tried to kill only weeks before, RED felt... content in that moment. He tried not to dwell on it too much; he was simply enjoying one of the few hobbies he had, he told himself. The conversation- one which was shockingly civil, given the participants- was just a bonus. The topic just happened to be good, was all. There weren't very many people with whom he could talk to about guns or the fighting prowess (or lack thereof) of his teammates.

He realigned a piece on the side, taking note of what needed to be welded and where. He supposed if he was going to have a chat to pass the time, he might as well get some use out of it. It'd be practical, after all. "He and Pyro have both been here for some time, I take it."

[bye_to_yer_head]

"Least it's somethin'. Though you'd think in a place as futuristic as this seems t' be they'd have made some improvements in medicine." Sniper was still getting used to the fact he had a phone he could carry around with him at all times. That would have been handy back at the base, he could have called his parents without leaving his camper and cut down on the chances of seeing any of his teammates while walking to the phone booth. Actually the little video feature would have been nice too. If he knew how to work it a bit better he might actually like the communicator, but as it was he was just thrilled he had finally been shown how to use the text feature.

Pulling the file to him he started making shallow V-shaped cuts along the part of the bone that would eventually be the handle. "Longer than me anyhow. Think Pyro said she'd been here for a year. I've been here a bit over four months." He frowned, concentrating on what he was doing. "Wish I could tell ya it gets better, but really it doesn't."

[hasstandards]

"I had a feeling it didn't, despite what I've been told." RED was forced to keep a grimace from his face, his nose throbbing painfully at nearly any change in his expression. So long as he kept his look impassive, the ache was manageable. Only his second day awake, and he was already spending his days watching the clock for when his next dose of painkillers would be coming. Another dependence, but one he was more than willing to accept, given the incredible agony he was in without them.

There was a slight shift in his brow as he kept on his work. Four months for BLU, Pyro had been there the longest by her own admission. That meant Medic was somewhere between there, with him being the newest to Paradise. He'd never met Engineer, but knew he'd been taken some time after Pyro. He couldn't help but wonder why they'd been brought there, or why his teammates had seemingly never disappeared from the battlefield, or if there was some pattern to their capture; however, his mind was in no condition to look for such answers. There was a gun to fix, and he was sure he'd forget some of the finer details of any conversation he had in the ward due to the medication, as it was.

Still, curiosity clawed at him. Normally, he wouldn't have cared; however, the death threat made against him gave him more of a desire to consider learning more, if for no other reason than to know what to avoid. If there was anyone who would know how to make a death painful, it would be Medic. The trick was that he'd have to get his hands on his target, first. Not too hard when one was stuck in a hospital bed.

[bye_to_yer_head]

"Though whoever did this t' ya is probably new. There ain't that many people here, if any of 'em got pummeled someone would 'ave said something." Sniper grimaced down at his knife. Whoever it was it was likely a Spy. But then...

"You really think it was a Spy? Why wouldn't they show themselves t' one of th' teams?" Though considering RED was the one who had been attacked chances were that it was a BLU Spy, in which case it was odd that he wasn't bothering BLU constantly. Spies tended to do that.

[hasstandards]

RED shook his head, a sigh of frustration pushed out of him as he dropped a screw for the third time. He spoke once he finally got it into place. "I suppose not. Looked about right, though. Similar clothes. Even had a hat like Spies wear sometimes. His mask was off, though. It, um."

He brought his right hand to his face, making a vague gesture. "Didn't have holes in it, not even for his mouth so he could smoke. Don't know how he could see me. Had this pattern on it too- kept lookin' like it moved in the dark. S'like one of those blots they show you when they think you've gone troppo."

His body ached, recalling each blow without conscious effort. He closed his eyes to block it out, his hands halting their work. "Didn't fight like one, either. He charged me like a bull."

[bye_to_yer_head]

"Then it couldn't 'ave been a Spy. Pretty sure they drop dead if they stop smokin' fer more than an hour. Probably how th' Administrator keeps 'em in line." Sure Sniper smoked quite a bit, but nothing like either of the Spies who chain smoked like crazy.

"Doesn't sound loike anyone I've seen. But I ain't exactly social." All evidence to the contrary by his sitting there chatting away. He made a few more cuts to the bone before briefly glancing up at RED. "Th' fact you saw him at all means he's probably someone else. Almost sounds worse."

Sniper hadn't thought that people existed who were worse than Spies. Being stabbed in the back by a guy who could turn invisible was the stuff that nightmares were made of. But at least it was a quick death. He'd never known a Spy to actually delight in fighting or in causing pain, not that he really got to know them or talked to them if he could help it. Whoever had done this had been brutal, especially since he had left the other Sniper for dead.

[hasstandards]

RED's mind followed a similar line of thought. "Least it'd've been quick with a Spy. They'd've left my weapons, too." He forced himself back to his work, trying to keep his mind off the frustration that was mounting in him, tension building in his neck. It took him a moment to get a hold of the screwdriver again, the handle slipping through his stiff fingers.

He snorted in annoyance, the pang that shot through his face from his nose aggravating his mood. He shook his head again as he tried to knock the hood from his head, suddenly aware it was still there. Bloody Pyro. He was willing to bet she'd asked the nurses to keep it on him, as well. "I expect I'll be reminded by every visitor I get in this godforsaken place that this is my fault and I had this comin' to me."

[bye_to_yer_head]

"Guess they at least have some standards t' 'em." BLU pulled around another chair so he could prop his feet up and relax.

"You should really stop doin' that. Yer never gonna heal if you keep shakin' yer head around loike that." He has a good idea of what RED is trying to do, but he's not going to help him one way or the other. If Pyro wants him in the doggy sweater, then in the doggy sweater he will be, BLU isn't going to stand in her way.

"It ain't yer fault he took your gun an' knoife. 'Sides, he didn't have t' break every bone in yer body t' get you to stop whatever it was you were doing. Seems a mite extreme."

[hasstandards]

"I wasn't doin' nothin'," RED said with a hint of bitterness. True, he was aiming a gun at a party full of civilians, and somewhere in him, he admitted that wasn't his best decision; however, he hadn't actually taken a shot, and had expressed he didn't intend to. The supposed Spy could have let him off with a warning. Demanding his weapons was crossing the line entirely.

He continued, trying to swallow that irritation creeping through him: "Nothin' worth this. I don't even recall him breaking my fingers. Must've done it when I was already out. Last thing I remember is my nose crunchin' beneath his fist, then I'm waking up in a puddle of me own blood without a weapon on me."

[bye_to_yer_head]

"Eugh. That's harsh. Ain't no need t' keep wailin' on ya when yer already down." BLU winced sympathetically, more for he weapons than the pain. He knew what it was like to be without a weapon, the strangely vulnerable exposed feeling that came from not being able to defend yourself. He couldn't even imagine what RED was going through, not only was he weaponless, he couldn't have defended himself with only two fingers even if he still had his gun.

"Well it's not loike there's police t' try an' catch 'em. Though there's some detective lookin' into all the people that been murdered. Wouldn't surprise me if this is th' bloke an' he just expected you t' die of yer injuries." There was a good chance the RED would have died if he hadn't been found in time and dragged out of the alley. Yes he'd been conscious when BLU found him, but he wasn't in any condition to even drag himself to safety. He just would have bled to death eventually if he hadn't frozen first.

[hasstandards]

"I'm sure he did, mate." RED was all too aware of his mortality; had BLU and Ringo not shown up, he was positive that alley would have been his final resting place. Though he didn't admit it aloud, he could tell BLU thought the same thing- the extent of his injuries had made his intended fate clear. Even without the broken arm and fingers, he couldn't possibly have walked to the hospital on his leg without suffering permanent injury. A sigh pushed through him- there was still a chance of that, or so the nurses had informed him. Another weakness, one he would likely carry with him for the rest of his life.

Not that he wanted to express those concerns to his rival. Though he had to admit some part of him was enjoying the conversation, the company taking his mind off the relentless aching far more than any of the painkillers had, the man was still a BLU. They were both professionals, and the relationship between them was just that- each knew he was a hired gun, paid to kill the other. They may have been captives, but there was no changing that detail. It galled RED to have to put even a miniscule amount of trust in him, even if it was for necessity, for survival.

Still, survival came first and foremost. If he didn't survive, he couldn't do his job. It was as simple as that.

The comment about the police did not fall on deaf ears, though the main point of it was turned in his mind. No police, so no one to enforce the rules they supposedly had. They were on their own- that explained, to a degree, why the vigilante had felt it was his duty to do so. Criminal minds, bah. To be lumped in with murderers and outlaws was an outrage. Something else formed in his mind: an idea to be filed away for later. He couldn't do much about the masked man now that he was trapped in a hospital bed, but he couldn't be imprisoned forever. His chance would come.

"At least if he thinks I'm dead, I won't have to expect him walkin' in here to visit me at any time," he said wryly. "With you, I've had four visitors. More than enough for me for the rest of my life. And I get the feeling Pyro is going to be here every day."

[bye_to_yer_head]

"There is that." It hadn't even occurred to BLU that this masked vigilante might show up to try and finish the job. But it made sense, he'd obviously intended for RED to die that night, if he had just been trying to steal the man's weapons there would have been no reason for him to be so brutal, or to leave him where he had fallen. Even a Spy would have ended him quickly and let the respawn take over.

"Guess it's good you got so many visitor jus' in case he does decide t' make an appearance. Pretty sure if anyone threatened you Pyro would be in here in an instant settin' th' bloke on foire." BLU turned the bone over in his hand, making a few small marks to denote where the blade would start to curve. He was actually pleased that he had something to do finally. He was starting to feel useless and restless in this place, and while he enjoyed working on his bow, he liked to switch between things to prevent cramping in his hands, and also to change up the monotony. "Docs here give you any idea when you can get out 'f this place?"

[hasstandards]

RED's work was a delicate art of balancing pieces on his thigh, pulling them to him with the splints, and spinning the screwdriver between the only two fingers he had left. The inner workings of the gun were coming together, some coming out to be adjusted before being returned to their positions- the work was slow, but that was required for his precision. He surprised himself in being able to get any of it together at all, in spite of his handicap. It made him feel marginally more useful and kept his mind from the pain in one fell swoop.

Well, most of the pain. His arm ached as he reached for another part. "They said I'd be discharged sometime next month. My hand oughtta be mostly in one piece by then. The arm'll take more time." He opted not to mention his knee. He already knew he'd be lucky if it healed properly at all- the nurse had warned him he was likely going to have a limp if he wasn't very careful with it.

[bye_to_yer_head]

"You gonna be havin' Pyro push you around in a wheelchair?" He was sure the other Sniper would just love that, though Pyro would probably be more than happy to wheel him around. BLU glanced up at his Machina, slowly coming back together, eventually it would need to be welded but getting it back together fit to be fired would take the most time. RED seemed to be pretty knowledgeable about the inner workings of guns, as every piece went back into place Sniper was mentally kicking himself for having never taken a spare apart just to see how it all fit together.

He'd always been more fond of the bow, but the gun was faster, cleaner, and could shoot at much longer distances. He could hit people with arrows from pretty far away, but ensuring that first hit was a killing blow required him to be within a few yards of his target.

"Havin' yer hands in workin' order will probably make yer stay here a mite better. At least you'd be able t' get that sweater off."

[hasstandards]

BLU's statement was met with a snort of outright irritation. "Right. Even if I could get it off and over the cast on my arm, I'm sure I'd go to sleep for and it'd be right back on again. Pyro spent a lot of time yesterday assuring me how fine a pet I was and tried to stuff me with bacon. Then Medic came by and-"

He cut himself off abruptly with a shake of his head, failing to grasp the words. He was the only family she had left, the doc had said. Given the nickname she had for Medic and the way he spoke of her, Sniper was willing to bet otherwise. If he wanted to be such good pals with her, he was welcome to. Having it shoved on him was not ideal.

"If there's nothin' else I gain from gettin' out of here, it's some time away from her and this godawful thing she's got me wearing."

[bye_to_yer_head]

"You could use th' bacon. Yer skinnier than I am roight now." He smirked at the mental image of Pyro petting him like a dog. While he felt bad for poor RED, he couldn't help but chuckle at his plight.

"She don't know where you live? I'm sure she'll foind ya, she doesn't have much else t' be doing anyway."