Wave lost, I'm running out of patience! - The Announcer's voice boomed over the intercom to the disheartened, discouraged and dispirited respawning mercenaries. As if she really needed to remind them of how bad their situation was, it wasn't like they hadn't experienced defeat at their metal counterparts hands for the, what was it now, twelfth time?

"Dammit Spy, why aren't you fulfilling your primary duties and taking care of those medics, frenchie!" The RED Soldier barked at the RED Spy, making every bit of how infuriated he was clear.

"In my defence!" The Spy snapped back. "It is a little hard to backstab them when you all keep triggering their Ubers. Perhaps if the Engineer learnt to control his damn toy, I would be given enough time before those Pyros figure out I'm not one of them!"

"If you're asking to donate hands, I could certainly use the extra pair around here!" The RED Texan replied in mock honesty, but making his displeasure all the more clear.

"And as for you, little hippie!" The Solider turned on the young RED Scout, attempting to draw as much people into the conversation as possible. "Those money grabbing skills of yours are looking pretty damn rusty!"

"Will you cut it out?" The Scout defended himself, and the argument was taken to new heights.

All the while the RED Heavy and Medic were observing the scene, taking it all in.

"Dummkopfs!" The Medic uttered to himself.

"Tell me, where did we go so wrong?" The Heavy asked in woe.

"Heavy." The Medic replied. "I have no idea." He said in plain bitterness.

"Maybe Doktor." The giant Russian pondered to the smaller German. "Maybe it is to do with… you know… Mannworks." He suggested timidly.

And with good reason, for at the sound of Mannworks, the Medic shot up, turning to the Heavy with blatant displeasure.

"I told you, Heavy, don't mention that." He demanded briskly.

"I know Doktor." The Heavy admitted. "It's just that, things have been going so bad since we left, I thought that maybe…"

"Please Heavy, don't think." The Medic snapped. "Let me do the thinking, and we didn't leave, we were driven out." He finished on another tone of bitterness as that last part.

"I know Doktor." The Heavy repeated. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know Heavy." The Medic responded, lowering his aggressive tone. "I think I need a lie down, all this medicing is really getting to me." He finished, before taking his leave to the barracks.

Heavy was feeling tired himself; everything was going so fast for him, ever since they had lost Mannworks to the robot horde, everything was going so fats for everyone. The Heavy could tell that the Medic was taking it the most out of the whole team, like it was his responsibility and he managed to screw it all up, and now the RED team was ever pressed back by the robots, causing stress and general discomfort in everyone.

Since their retreat from Mannworks, the RED and BLU teams had been divided to defend both Decoy and Coaltown respectively. At first the idea of working with their long time enemies had seemed like such an entertaining prospect, but now they never saw each other, making the whole prospect of them working together seem bleak and pointless.

The Heavy was starting to understand why everything seemed so bad. When they fought the BLUs, there was variety, they would defend in Payload and Control Points and they would fight tug of war in Capture the Flag. There was much fun to be had, and the variety ensured that they were never in one place doing one thing for far too long. But now wit these robots to contend with, they were rooted in the little scrap of land that was Decoy, fighting the same enemies in the same way, sometimes winning, sometimes losing. But the staleness of it was starting to get to just about everyone, and it was not helped at all by the Administrator reminding them that if they couldn't hold back the metal horde, then they would be overrun again, and could risk their lives, or worse, their jobs.

Not wanting to think of it further, the Heavy picked up his Sandvich and chowed down in an attempt to set his mind at ease. The heavy munching sounds he made certainly seemed to block out all the uneasiness he was feeling, until suddenly a thought struck him in his meal.

"What was that, Sandvich?" The giant man pondered of his treat, listening intently for what it had to divulge.

"Hah! Good idea!" He exclaimed aloud, and immediately got up, to make preparations for his newfound plan.

"Okay Heavy, what really good idea do you have that warrants us all here?" The Spy asked sluggishly of the Heavy, for now they had all assembled in front of him.

"I have talked it over with Announcer and Medic." The Heavy recited proud of such a feat.

"Err, Heavy?" The German posed. "Maybe I should explain it." He suggested.

"Oh, yes, that will work." The Heavy reasoned.

"Ahem." The Medic cleared his throat before making his speech. "Considering our current state, the Heavy has formulated a plan that he believes could help our chances."

There was a general murmur mixing between eagerness and indifference. The Medic took note of it before continuing.

"Therefore, the Heavy believes this plan will confuse and baffle those robots, thus giving us an element of surprise, and it will also liven things up around here, surely I am not the only one feeling so bored right now." He continued, getting a very different reaction from the crowd of mercenaries, now much more eager then before.

"Let's just hear it." The Engineer asked in impatience.

"Okay." The Medic took a deep breath before announcing the plan. "Every one of us will swap roles and equipment with everyone else."

The group didn't quite understand what he said, so the Medic phrased it better for them.

"We are going to swap roles with each other, understand that?" He asked nervously awaiting the response.

They did understand that, and in an instant they were much confusion and the makings of another argument, something the Medic desperately wanted to avoid.

"How's that even gonna work?" The Scout demanded of the Medic, who was more then happy to reply.

"Through surgery, we can implant our certain physical skills onto each other, and also implant the means to use the different equipment with ease." He explained.

"Don't tell me Heavy figured out how to do that." The Engineer asked with worry.

"Of course not." The Medic snapped. "I worked out the majority of it, but the Heavy gave me the idea."

The mercenaries went silent after that, not sure of what to make of it. Internally, they did all share some excitement at the thought, and they had grown quite tired of the whole ordeal, so maybe this would be a good thing. Or maybe it would fail miserably, either way, the robots wouldn't see it coming.

"So err, who's going to be who?" The Sniper inquired eagerly.

The Medic was more then happy to oblige him.

"The Heavy will be." He began with some hesitation. "The Pyro."

The Heavy already knew he was going to be the Pyro, but as for the team's arsonist, they couldn't quite determine whether it was on board for such a suggestion.

"Mmmrph mp hrr myymh." It simply groaned, the Medic was quick to explain the situation to it.

"Don't worry Pyro." He said. "You will be the Spy."

Now that caused a proper reaction all round, especially from the Spy and Pyro.

"You can't be serious." The Spy cried out in disgust, but the Medic was quick to interject.

"I'm afraid all the preparations have already been made, we can't switch classes now." He said to the troubled Frenchmen.

"Well then, who am I going to be?" He asked in concern.

"You will be the Engineer." The Medic informed.

"Now hold on there mister." The Engineer cut in as predicted, while the Spy simply pondered the scenario in private.

"And you will be the Scout." The Medic quickly replied.

"Oh, okay." He simply accepted at the thought. "I do spend all day sitting on my kiester anyway."

"And me…" The Scout asked, clearly afraid of the answer.

"How does Heavy sound?" Was his reply.

"Umm." He simply muttered, while the Medic was grateful that he wasn't his usual chatterbox self.

"And what about you, doctor?" The Spy asked, turning the attention to the Medic in question.

"I will be…"The Medic began with a sinister glint in his eyes. "The Demoman."

"What?" The explosives expert barked in shock.

"And you will be the Sniper." The Medic quickly replied.

"Gah!" The Australian also barked.

"And you will be the Soldier." The Medic informed him.

"Oh?" The gruff American muttered.

"And you will be me!" The Medic responded optimistically.

After that, the team simply sat in stunned silence, contemplating in private the roles they had been assigned.

"Well, I think that settles it." The Medic simply answered to the silence. "If there is nothing else to do, you should all get ready for the surgery."

And with that, he left the stunned group to worry about a process they were all so keen to forget, to tend to his plans for when the robots would come again.

The Heavy simply chuckled to himself.

"I am credit to team." He boasted.