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

I said it was open if you could come up with a reason, so you're good to go!

[hasstandards]

Sniper shoved the two fingers he had working under his glasses, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes. The splints on his fingers kept pushing the frames against his nose, making the process both difficult and painful. Even with the focus gone from his eyes, the voice that addressed him was recognizable enough.

It was the Medic, a man with whom he'd shared about three words, none of them good. He wasn't sure he wanted to know whether or not the doctor actually worked at the hospital, but he was prepared to be unsurprised by the answer if the topic came up.

"How does it look like I'm doing?" he asked sorely, already doing a poor job of biting back his irritability. The fact that he was fighting a massive headache on top of all the other pain was not helping matters.

[hasstandards]

Sniper snorted in instant irritation as he watched Medic flip through his chart. There was a bitterness in his eyes as he remembered what BLU had said: the Medigun was broken, which meant Medic was about as useful as a normal doctor at healing wounds. It had been some time since Sniper had actually had to wait for a major injury to heal- he was not looking forward to it, given the severity and number of the ones he'd gained in the course of a single night.

The attitude the doctor presented wasn't a surprise, but it was an annoyance nonetheless. His mind was sharper, medication wearing off as pain surged through him again, fueling his frustration. "Back up, Doc. This isn't my fault. I wasn't doin' nothin', and some yobbo dressed like a Spy shows up and demands my weapons. What was I supposed to do, hand them over?"

[hasstandards]

"I'm used to bein' one of those people who can easily kill someone," Sniper retorted, watching Medic's pen dance its way across the page in front of him. He grimaced, making no comment on it yet. For all he knew, it could be part of Medic's job in Paradise. Pyro had suggested he get one, so it made sense.

"How was I supposed ta know he'd attack me like that?" he continued. "I was told not to shoot people. Guess I was told wrong. Should've put one right between his eyes when I had the chance."

[hasstandards]

There was a moment he wasn't sure he believed Medic. Summoning blades like some sort of a wizard? Transforming into beasts like a werewolf? As incredible as it all seemed, he had to remember he'd been brought to the future and had seen talking animals on his communicator doovalacky. There were things that shouldn't have been

[hasstandards]

He choked down another groan, finally forced to breathe in spite of it. His vision blurred; he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the conversation. "Duly noted, Doc. 'Preciate the word of warning." Medic may not have been able to fix his injuries in seconds as he could on the battlefield, but perhaps he'd been been a bit quick to judge the doctor as completely useless. He did have medical training (or so Sniper's drug-addled mind was going to assume for now), and the fact he was aware of some of RED's previous medications was undeniably helpful in a situation where he was dealing with people who didn't understand the fine art of Jarate and what kind of modification it took to use said fine art.

Not wanting to talk about what happened to his own weapons and what he did with them on a daily basis (though it was clear people in Paradise didn't understand the concept of professionalism, especially when it came to an assassin), he switched the topic again. "I heard your gun wasn't working. That ya used it on that BLU bloke."

[hasstandards]

Sniper saw that look of discomfort, hearing the telling tones of it in Medic's voice as he watched him shift around. It wasn't all that different of a reaction from what he'd have, really- he was better at stifling his feelings, but the apprehension was still apparent. He could understand it, though; without that Medigun, Medic couldn't do his job any more than Sniper could do his without a rifle.

He swallowed that sigh down- at least Medic still had his Medigun, even if it was broken. A busted gun could be fixed; a missing gun, taken by some maniac in a place that was still foreign to him... that was a situation beyond sore.

"Right. I'm sure you had your reasons." Probably not good ones for using his gun to heal the enemy, but reasons nonetheless. Sniper's eyes affixed themselves outside the window. "Until then, I expect I'll be here for a while."

[hasstandards]

Sniper's brow furrowed at the mention of the Engineer. Pyro had said he was gone, and there was the confirmation- left before Sniper had seen hide or hair of him. Though he'd attempted to reassure his teammate that he'd probably just returned to their time, he had no more of an idea than anyone. He had to say something, though. The air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

His attention was drawn back to the doctor as he produced his weapon. The brow stayed in its knitted state, his top lip rising in a look of questioning disapproval. "If it's an offer to cut off my leg, I'll pass. It didn't look that bad."

Not that he knew that either, but he was pretty sure BLU would've taunted him even more if the limb was rotting off or something equally horrible.

[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