I'm sorry, but the last chapter of this story is also going to be the shortest, by far. I racked my brains trying to find a way to extend it, but I felt that I couldn't without either a.) Babbling on unnecessarily or b.) Simply rewriting the video, something I told myself I wouldn't do this time around.

I've decided I may not be done with TF2 fics after all as I have a TF2 Medieval Mode/Half-Life/Portal crossover in the works, as well as tentative plans for a TF2 Hallowe'en special. Anyway, enough advertising, thank you for your commitment thus far, please enjoy.

"And then he told me that sleep is for the dead. Now the battle's starting, and I can't find Viktor anywhere! I should never have left that German psychopath alone!" Dell ranted with a shake of his head.

"I hear you, mate." The Sniper said, although he didn't seem to be committing his full attention to the conversation. The two men were crouched behind the driver's side of a pickup truck parked in front of the hospital, and they were peering up at the top of the hill. The Sniper was still drinking his coffee, although he was tense, and his rifle was ready nearby. Only ten minutes earlier, a stray rocket had struck the side of the hospital. "Where in the bloody hell are our reinforcements?"

"Tell me," Dell Conagher said, "Were you here when the Pyro enlisted? Because I heard rumours that-"

"It's about bloody time!" The Sniper cried to the men exiting the hospital, interrupting Dell's musings. "Get the hell up there! They're attacking already!"

The Scout bolted up the hill, with the Demoman not far behind. The Soldier came last, his loose helmet straps bouncing around as he ran up the hill with his rocket launcher in hand.

"Sorry, Engi, this conversation will have to wait!" The Sniper muttered, grabbing his gun and running up the hill after his teammates. The Engineer, cursing under his breath, hurried up with him.

"It's gonna be a beautiful morning, boys!" The Soldier yelled. "Let's kill some maggots!"

Miss Pauling could see the entire battle from where she stood, on the third floor of the hospital. The teleporter exit she came in on was behind her – painted grey. Behind the teleporter exit was a blue blouse, hung up neatly. She glanced back at the battlefield, where at least forty BLU Soldiers were charging up the hill. RED Soldier was dead already, RED Pyro was nowhere to be seen, RED Engineer and RED Sniper were fleeing down the hill, and RED Scout was trying to help RED Demoman into a wheelchair.

"Not yet..." Miss Pauling muttered to herself, glancing at the blue clothing. "It's not over yet..." Her visit had nothing to do with the RED team, and the Announcer didn't give two damns whether or not Reliable Excavations and Demolitions held the Hospital – no matter which company owned it, She still controlled it. All that mattered to the Announcer was that Operation Ubermensch succeeded. She had already sold Klaus Vetterlein's Medibeam patent to Mann Co. for a small fortune, and she was looking forward to selling the Medigun for even more money. If the Ubercharge feature properly worked, then the Announcer would be a few million dollars richer, merchandising the product of Vetterlein's labours to Saxton Hale, to be sold directly back down the ladder to BLU. It didn't even matter if Vetterlein succeeded. If he died, then a BLU Medic would grab his blueprints and experiment some more. However, in the Announcer's own words, "Klaus Vetterlein is the smartest, most brilliantly reckless Medic we have ever had on either team. If he can't do this, Miss Pauling, then chances are that nobody will be able to for many years. So make it happen!"

Miss Pauling turned back to the window. The Demoman was wheeling himself over the crest of the hill with the wheelchair. The Scout was flying through the air – Miss Pauling doubted he would survive the fall. The Engineer and the Sniper were falling back. Miss Pauling glanced once more to the blue garments, which would allow her claim she was being held hostage, with deep longing.

"One more trip," She muttered to herself. "One more trip to the Operating Room. I'll just take one look at his progress." With that, she walked down to the observation theatre of the OR.

"Kill me,"

"Later." The fridge door slammed shut, the light went out, and the BLU Spy was in pitch blackness once again. The entire fridge smelled like a sickening mixture of cigarette smoke and formaldehyde-fortified hearts. There were wires protruding from the back of the Spy's head, where a car battery was plugged in. After countless hours of being trapped in this fridge, the Spy had tried to displace the wires by jerking his head around, and therefore killing himself, but he couldn't. To make matters worse, now his nose itched. He knew that a big push was coming by BLU, but even if those mouth-breathing, pigheaded, war-mongering Yankee brutes had the sense to search for him, he doubted that the scatterbrained blonde Medic would be able to reattach his head to something.

" 'grab the blueprints', she said. 'He's a harmless doctor, a cowardly bookworm.' " The Spy muttered around his cigarette before taking a conservative drag. "Get me a body to move with, and I'll shove those blueprints so far up her – oh, merde!" The Spy cried suddenly, for the cigarette had just slipped out of his mouth, and now he couldn't reach it. "Doctor! Doctor!" He yelled. "MEEEEEEDIIIIIIIIIIIC!"

THE END