Scout rubbed his eyes, glaring at the door of his room. Fuckin' midnight an' some asshole's still playin' god damned classical music!? I swear... He kicked the blanket away angrily and threw his feet to the cold floor. Marching down the hall, the music grew louder and drowned out the sound of his footsteps and the snoring of the nearby Soldier. The faded tan tiles quickly became white as Scout entered the supposedly cleaner side of the base, the stark light of the infirmary shining bleakly through the small wire-crossed windows. He paused a few feet from the door as the music suddenly ground to a halt. Scout smirked slightly, then turned on his heel, ready to leave again in hopes of getting a scrap of sleep on the last night of ceasefire.

His feet froze to the floor as music began again. Scout looked over his shoulder, listening to the soft waves of a violin's lament. A sharp pain tore through his chest as his thoughts ran, memories of his mother forcing him into music lessons, buying a second-hand violin that he never practiced. Without thinking, he turned again and pushed the door open slightly. He peered into the room with a confused expression. Medic stood with his back to the door, his head bowed slightly as the bow slowly filled the infirmary with its solemn song. Scout leaned against the door and let his eyes drift shut as the ghostly music filled his head. The door creaked loudly on its hinges, breaking through the music. Scout's eyes flew open in time to see Medic turn to glare at him weakly.

"Sorry, doc," Scout mumbled quickly.

"Herr Scout?" The boy glanced back for a moment. "It iz fine."

Scout nodded slowly before taking a shaky step into the room. "Hey, doc? Mind if I stay for a while? I mean, just ta' listen?" He leaned back against the closed door, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean, I can go if ya want," he continued rambling.

Medic laughed softly and let a tiny smile curl the corner of his mouth. "Ja, Scout. You can stay." He toed the wheel-locks of a nearby gurney before gesturing Scout towards it. "My apologies, but my guests are not usually in a position to complain." Scout couldn't help but laugh faintly as he hopped up onto the thin mattress. Medic lifted his violin once more and resumed the music that had been lost moments before.

Scout leaned back on his hands, letting the song wash over him. He watched Medic as he played, blinking in surprise when he noticed the doctor's glasses were missing. Scout looked around slowly, spotting the glasses laying on a small metal table next to Medic's thick red gloves. The medipak rested against the legs of the table, out of place in the plain infirmary. Scout's eyes wandered back to Medic. He seemed taller without his equipment weighing him down, almost at ease if it weren't for the heart-wrenching music he played.

Scout realized with a jolt that the music had stopped. Medic was already placing his violin in its case, glancing over his shoulder at Scout who had jumped off the gurney. "Well, I guess I'll get goin', doc," Scout muttered, walking quickly towards the door.

"Hans," Medic responded. Scout turned back, eyebrow raised in question. "You do not need to call me Doctor or any of zat. My name iz Hans."

Scout stared at Medic for a moment, jaw slightly slack, before shaking himself out of it. "Oh... Well, uh, alright," he said hesitantly. "The name's Scott."

"Scout Scott?" Medic said with a laugh.

Scout puffed out his chest a little. "Hey, ain't my fault they decided ta call me Scout here!" He flashed Medic a grin before turning to the door again. "Danke, Hans," he called over his shoulder as he gave a lazy wave.

Medic shook his head and laughed quietly. "Bitte, Scott." He slid his glasses back on, listening to the door shut before adding, "Du süß Dummkopf."