In Need of Assistance? (TF2)

Sixty-Nine: The Mann in the Ceiling

[A/N}: Nice

        Engie left after Miss Pauling called for him to come back to the fort. I don't know who gave her my landline number. Neuro stayed and talked with me about going forward with my relationship with the team and such. I remember little of what was said. I wasn't listening in. All I could think about was that woman. Purchasing a gun for the apartment sounds rather necessary. There's a knock at my door, and I stand up to answer. Medic stands on the other side. "Täubchen, could you please wait in the car?"

Neuro takes the car key from him, and we watch her as she disappears into the stairwell. I step out into the hallway with Medic and close the door behind me. I know it's the real one.

I think.

He turns to face me. "I'm going to be straightforward. You're a spy."

"Great," I squeak. Nevermind. "Thanks for telling me, have a delightful night."

He reaches past me and closes my door. "Mmm, Komplizin."

"I'm not Accomplice I'm a bLoOdY SpOi, remember?" I mock Sniper and cross my arms. "Go home and kiss your husband or something, Ludwig, leave me alone. Lest I murder you and begin speaking in a French accent."

"Please, listen to me. I have my reasons for suspecting you, but I'm willing to help you clear your name given that there's the chance we're wrong."

"Or sabotage me and tarnish it further."

"Nein, hör mir zu." I ignore him. "I'm helping you for Neuro. My liebe, she trusts you. I'm doing this for her." He's getting frustrated with me as I jiggle the doorknob to try and push against Medic's arm. I sent Salvador to bed already. "Listen, Sniper hasn't been completely innocent himself." I cease.

"You have my attention."

"Whoever that man is, they aren't our Scharfschütze," he whispers as he adjusts his glasses from the side. "You wouldn't know because you were absent during the physical, but our Mick Mundy has a suprapubic catheter inserted." I grimace, and he sighs with waning patience." A suprapubic device is inserted through the stomach directly to the bladder, not the urethra," he explains, annoyed. "I won't get into it too much, but Sniper's is going to be permanent in my medical opinion. It needs to be changed every four-to-six weeks, so roughly a month."

"And this affects me how?"

"It's been almost two months since he's come to see me about changing it. This either means he found another healthcare professional, figured out how to do it himself, or he simply doesn't have one."

"Ask him about it, it's not my issue."

"I'm aware that he has showcased his scars for you at one point, yes?" He puts his hands together and points them at me.

"Yes."

"Did you see a tube protruding from his lower stomach? Perhaps taped to his body? Any tube at all?"

I think back. He said things in his body don't work, but I think he'd tell me if he specifically couldn't pee correctly solely because of Medic. Or not, I don't know. "I don't remember anything like that."

"I see. Would it--"

"Goodnight, Ludwig," I interrupt and enter my home. He gently knocks a few times and calls for me, but I watch the peephole until he leaves. Me helping them doesn't help me. I scratch their back, but they don't scratch mine. Being stingy with information feels like the right way to go.