Work Text:
Helmut sits on the fort ledge in the rain.
Uniform drenched, spattered in blood and dirt.
The call to duty ringing in his ears,
but what has changed about him keeps clawing at his mind,
Looking at what he has kept closest to his heart for years in his hand.
Knowing it cannot save him from the side he loathes the most.
The Medic cannot escape it.
Looking out across the mud coated no-mans land he sees,
The one who caused it all.
The enemy, The RED Medic, Bardolf.
Coldly smiling back.
Helmut stands, tucking his cross into his pocket, closest the heart.
He waits. For the right moment.
To change.
To change to the side he hates.
And attack.
He forces himself to drop from the ledge.
As Bardolf enters the hunting zone,
Both BLU and RED shift.
Bardolf smirked, knowing that Helmut would want a fight,
for what he had purposely done.
The BLU, dressed in thick grey, in anger, ran on straight on for the attack.
The RED, dressed in liver and white, stands his ground and waits.
On four legs for assist,
and blade like claws for the attack.
Newborn MedicWolves.