M.O.C.M. TF2 chapter 6

Alexander stood outside the door, his body tensed up. He didn't want to ask him, but he was the first one that could provide some information on the killer. He was the least likely killer, but earlier that day did search his ward for something he didn't even know was there. A shaky hand lifted and knocked on the camper's door. Hopefully he didn't mind visitors at midnight.

"Hold on, I'm almost there." The RED Sniper walked across the window in only socks and underwear. He got some pants, and a black wife beater shirt on and answered the door. "Yeah?" He looked tired, and not interested in talking. He looked the doctor up and down, and his frown faded as he tried to be a neighbor. "There's a reason I nevah settled inta a suburban lifestyle, mate."

It was clear the RED Medic was not welcomed into the camper. "Uhh...I need to have a vord vizh you." The rugged Australian looked around outside the camper to see if anybody else was around, and open the door all the way inviting the man. "Come on in." He waved him inside. The Medic was prideful about his cleanliness, and he felt like he could get pneumonia from being in the van. It smelled like sweat, and some other rank odors. It was not dirty, in any ways whatsoever. It was just the smell. Then again since the Sniper did live in a hot climate, it seemed understandable that his gentics did develope with him having more sweat glands to stay cool.

The Australian kicked a bunch of naked lady magazines under the bed, and sat down on it. He patted the side of the bed, and the doctor sat down next to him. He had trouble speaking to the intimidating tall man. "Well, I'm all ears."

He then let out a heavy sigh. "Listen. I have to ask. Do you remember a little Scout on zhe battlefield? It vas a very young girl, und she had razher dark skin, und she also had a bit of an attitude?"

The Australian nodded. "I knew her." He said grabbing a bottle of beer. "As a matter of fact, knew her REAL well. Went by the name o' Grace, Grace Miller, or other people knew her more form'ly as Gracey." He said taking a big swig of his chemical disastered drink. Apparently he felt sympathy for her, Alexander didn't think he really was the shooter. "Swear I miss her ta death." He then turned to him. "I did it you know."

Alexander's heart sank to his stomach. Nigel really did it! He never really knew the Sniper that well, but regardless he NEVER expected him to kill somebody! Grace would be so upset by this. So it was him. "That's right. I was the one that killed Constantine!" Suddenly he became confused. So it wasn't him? "That's right I killed that giant bastard!" He said looking down. "And I would do it again if I had the chance! He beat that poor girl endlessly!" He said. Then in a fit of rage he launched the bottle across the room hollering an angry "DAMMIT!", as it shattered into a heap of broken glass. It surprised the anxious German man.

Suddenly, things seemed to make more sense. So that was where the bruises were coming from, and why she chose not to talk about them. "She was so frightened of that man. She was sure he was gunna kill her." He looked at the man sitting next to him that was about to loose his cool. "I wish I could have saved her, but somebody finished the job and took her out."  He grabbed the sides of his head, shaking. He wasn't the killer Alexander was looking for. He looked like he was in so much pain. He wanted to tell him Grace was alive, but could he honestly trust him? "I can't believe she's gone." He sputtered his voice thickening in his chest. "I know that-I know that it happens sometimes, but I-I never thought that..." He squeezed his eyes, and started shaking even more violently. It was starting to scare the Medic "I never treated her nice. We always fought, and hated each other all the time, but she was such a nice kit." He turned to the Medic. "If you did it, then please tell me the trufe."

His hands flew up defensively. "Nein! I vould never!" He looked back down. "I see how much you cared about her zhough mein friend." He shook less violently. Still regardless of how much he calmed himself, he was far too scared to tell the Sniper anything, frightened things would get a bit out of hand. He knew if he told him, it might make something seem like something else.

Meanwhile in the medical wing, Grace was thinking about her old team, and how something like this would never happen back at her old map. Hopefully her current team would come soon! What was taking them such a long time? She got out a pen and paper, and began writing to the one person she missed the most.

Dear Saphira,

How are you doing? I hope you and Felix are doing well. I am in a speck of trouble myself. I am being held captive by the RED team. Well... not really the RED team as much as their Medic. I must have passed out once we lost and never managed to make it back to the team. Anyways I guess this Medic, Alexander came walking by me, and he says that I was in need of serious medical attention. I don't think I really needed help that much, but what do I know? He says the Administrator could sentence us both to death if she found out he was hidng me. Apparently the woman running this side of the maps is crazy!

I met him when he had finished surgery on me. He is a big fellah. I might go as far to say he is bigger than Felix, but then again, it's been a while since I've seen him.  He wears glasses and has a little swirl in his hair the way most Medics do. The sides of his hair grey a little, so he is a bit older than Felix. He is kind of skinnier than some Medic's I have seen, but you know how when some people age they loose their muscle. He isn't that bad. He treats me kindly, and he brings in meals every day. Always checks up on me, and makes sure nobody can find me. I was almost caught earlier today, but I am more clever than Nigel was. Alexander says that Nigel can't be trusted, but I don't know. I was too frightened at the time...

She then wondered if she should keep going on about him, or if she should write in how she wanted him to stay with her. It was because she was lonely and frightened. Not because she felt feelings for him right? She just decided to keep it casual.

...He keeps doves in his office, and it makes me actually miss the peacock! They are everywhere. He keeps more doves, than I keep baseball cards. They fly all over the place, which makes me feel nervous. I am waiting for somebody to get me out of here, so I can resume with the fights, but we must be having ceasefire. If you know anything, please give me some information. I would really appreciate it.

Suddenly in the bottom corner a white splat of fluid fell onto the paper. She looked above to see a dove perched right above her on some sort of medical wire. Before she got a chance to respond another load of bird doo came out, splatting straight into her left eye. Snarling at the bird, she swore to herself she would never date a man with a bird. She walked over to a cabinet to grab some paper towels. Rubbing the cloth over her eye, she looked in the cabinet to see what other things there were. She looked inside, and there were a few microscopes, and test tubes, and a pile of feathers- pile of feathers?

Suddenly a very angry bird lunged out scratching and pecking! Apparently it did not want to be disturbed. Grace started to freak out holding her arms in front of her to keep her face from being cut. The bird started screeching but eventually stopped as it flew up into the ceiling wires. By then Grace was breathing heavily from the excitement. She finally lowered her arms to see if it were still there. It had eventually flew off. When she lowered her arms, she saw the talons left marks on the sides of her forearms, and a few bite marks as well. "Great! Stupid bird probably gave me bird flu!" She ran over to the sink, and ran her arms underneath it.

She heard a person trying to get inside. Suddenly she hid behind the surgical table. When she looked up, it revealed to be Alexander. What a relief! She walked up to him, and held her hands up. "Well, your birds strike again!" She said sarcastically as she held the less scratched arm up.

He looked down. "Oh, dear!" He said grabbing some ointment. "I'm sorry. Did you fluster zhem?"

"Not intentionally." She griped to him. "I seriously think these things hate me."  He quietly washed out the wounds, and put ointment on her. So much for thinking Native Americans were good with animals. The wounds were cleaned out, and much better.

"I was writing a letter to my friend, and they pooed on it!" She said squinting her eyes. He chuckled a little under his breath. The way she said it was just too funny. If he could be as young as her and relive his younger years! As soon as he wrapped them up, he looked at her face, and her eyes were shimmering a bit.

He then pulled her face up. "Hey, vhat is vrong?" He said concerned. She didn't answer. Instead she just leaned into the man. He knew she was scared. He didn't blame her. Slowly feeling pity for her he kissed her on the forehead. "I know you are scared. Do not be." He picked her up, and once again carried her over to the recliner. "You vill not be hurt as long as I'm around." She started having trouble believing him, since she was just attacked by his bird. "I'm sorry Melinda attacked you. She has a nest of eggs and felt zhreatened." He said holding her close. He had to admit to himself it felt good having a girl to hold onto. A bird couldn't compare to another human being, and it seemed like she didn't mind being in his arms. He whspered in her ear. "I know you don't like zhem." The same thought was going through both of their brains, and that was that she could not stay here forever. Trying to find a way to cheer her up he thought of a good question. "Does your family have any animals vhere you live?"

She shrugged. "My father owns a bloodhound, and some of my older sisters own a ferret or two." He was starting to lose any faith in her family owning birds. "My mother used to keep canaries, but she left us." There was the missing piece. She must have hated domesticated birds because they reminded her of her mother. He then tried to comfort her. "Do you know vhere zhere are no birds?" She looked up and shook her head. He responded. "My room." He smiled to her. "I vill be moving you in zhere soon."

"Why do you like doves so much?" She asked looking up at him.

He rubbed his thumb along her shoulder thinking the question over. "Oh, I don't know. Birds are smart, zhey are easy to take care of. Very social, zhey don't need too much grooming. I zhink my interest in zhem began when I vas just a boy in Germany. Mein grandmozher kept zhem and she vas nice and showed me how to feed zhem, and she had zhis large walk in cage zhat vas really neat." He said thinking about the woman. "Zhen vone day vone of her birds had an nest, and she said I could have one of zhe babies,and my interest in zhem grew from zhere." He then looked at her "Vhat about your fazher? Vhy zhe bloodhounds?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

She bit the inside of her cheek. It was probably best not to tell, but what was the harm? "My father is a police officer. He likes dogs, and bloodhounds were his thing. He liked rugged, sturdy things. They track easily, they like kids, and believe me my house was with eight little girls, so you can guess there were kids. Also they are fun to go outdoors with." Alexander was not a fan of dogs. He would sooner get a cat than a dog. They drooled and slobbered, and were rowdy. "I also had a beagle when I was little, but momma took that with her."

He nodded. "Well, personally I don't know much about dogs." He especially had trouble with big dogs. German Shephards in general. "Until I can sneak you out of here, just pretend zhey are little tiny vhite dogs, zhat can fly."

She attempted to smile, but she would not be around long enough for soon she would be escaping on her own.