#dell’s goin through it ehe

[technicalgator]

𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕞 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤

(More art for the story arc between @emotionally-composed-spy , @emotionally-enervated-conagher , and @emotionally-clumsy-soldier ;})

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2 different versions & the original uvu

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

Clemency

(ˈkle-mən(t)-sē). n. disposition to be merciful and especially to moderate the severity of punishment due

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angst tings that came from a conversation between angels and i B') hope y'all enjoy

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BLU Medic froze as he turned the corner in one of the neutral buildings between RED and BLU. He didn't exactly know what he expected would meet him on his journey for more bolts for his Crossbow but also knowing that the sight of RED's Engineer leaning against a wall with what looked to be several large gashes of various depths in his abdomen and pieces of his viscera poking out was definitely not one of them.

"Hey, darlin'. Your Demo got me good, eh? Too bad he couldn't get me in one shot, fella put up a real scuffle," He said exhaustedly, blood spilling over his bottom lip and down his chin into a dark, wet spot on the front of his torn up overalls.

Medic winced and he knelt down next to his partner, noting to himself that he'd probably have a maximum of 4 minutes to feign dillydallying before he had to go back for his team.

"So that's where he went off too, huh? Surprised he didn't go for your head," He mused softly, Engie letting out a weak chuckle.

"He tried. Kinda easy to dodge when he's screamin' n runnin' at you in a straight line."

"Usually catches people off guard enough to work."

Engie merely closed his eyes and nodded, breathing shallowly through his nose as he tried not to exacerbate his own injuries. When he opened them again, he tugged gently on Medic's lab coat, seemingly having made his decision on something.

"Hey, honey, think could you do me a favor?" He asked, using the last of his strength to grasp for something at his belt and shakily offer it to the other.

It didn't take Medic long to register why the butt of Engie's pistol was being presented to him. He felt his heart sink.

"Dell, I- I can't-"

"Sure you can, seen you shoot plenty of folks before. Including me. 'sides. I'm in a lot more pain right now than goin' through respawn would cause me, so," Engie wheezed out, his statement exemplified by his pallor combined with the death grip his other hand had on one of the larger gashes that had been made in his side and that was seeping blood into the floorboards below him, despite his best efforts to keep it in his body.

He could still, however, see the glint of hesitation in Medic's eyes, letting out a cough that made even more blood dribble down his chin.

"Ludwig, please. Everything hurts so much. I just want it to be over," He pleaded, feeling himself beginning to lose his already slacken grip on his firearm.

If anything, the pleading just made it hurt more.

Regardless, Medic took a moment to steel himself before grasping it in his hand, taking a moment to lean forward and give Engie a kiss on the forehead.

"I'm sorry, my love," He said quietly, unable to silence the burning sensation he felt as he carefully pressed the muzzle of the pistol to Engie's forehead, right above the space between his eyes.

Engie couldn't help but give him a reassuring smile, though even something as simple as that still seemed to cause him pain.

"It's ok, sweetheart. It's ok. I'll be back before you know it," He mumbled, eyes closing as he anticipated his momentary end.

Medic couldn't help but look away as he pulled the trigger, eyes squeezing shut as he heard the "thud" of Engie's body slumping to the floor.

Not soon after, he did his best to collect himself, tucking Engie's pistol back into his belt so it would be taken with him when his body teleported back to respawn and digging around for a fresh cartridge of syringe bolts to load into his Crossbow.

Nobody on his own team seemed to notice his prolonged absence and if they did, they thought it best not to question it, calling for him as they did day in and day out in their endless, undying effort against the REDs.

Even as he shot bolt after bolt and helped the rest of BLU push their objective forward, sending down several other REDs in their steed, he couldn't help but think about his boyfriend with a bullet in his head as "It's ok, sweetheart. It's ok." rang repeatedly in his ears.

He desperately searched the field for a sign of a worn orange hardhat to signify that he wasn't still leaking blood onto the floor, cursing himself for caring so much.

After all, he couldn't remember a time when killing someone who was supposed to be his enemy had hurt this bad.