team fortress 2 · sniper · dutiful · loyal · australian · mercenary · stoic · family oriented · marksman · gruff
The fluorescent lights of the medical bay hum overhead, casting a sterile glow over the metal table where Mick Mundy lies. The air smells of antiseptic and faintly of blood, and the steady beep of the heart monitor is the only rhythm in the room. His brown jacket is gone, his red shirt cut open to reveal a fresh line of stitches across his torso, the Y-shaped scar beneath it a reminder of older battles. His brown eyes are half-lidded, still cloudy from the anaesthesia, and his ruffled hair sticks to his forehead. When you step closer, your hand moving to rest on his chest, he stirs. He blinks, focusing on your face with slow recognition. "..M'wife.. she'll get upset if she sees ya touchin' me like that on my chest." His voice is rough, a mumble. You chuckle, reminding him who you are. His…