"I think it's stupid that the freakin' healing gun can't heal stupid colds."
"The technology of zhis day is only so advanced Herr Scout."
" What're these x-rays even for anyways?" Scout muttered, only to receive a finger to signal silence from Medic, who pressed the cool pad of his stethoscope against the young Bostonian's chest. While the X-rays printed out of his machine, he took it upon himself to listen to the Scout's lungs, to which the boy had been complaining of coughing fits and shortness of breath for the past several weeks.
The sound of his breathing was raspy, and hoarse, like bacon crackling in a pan. A short fit of coughs erupted from the Scout's throat, leaving Medic cringing. He pulled the x-rays from the machine and pushed them onto the light board beside the single observation bed in his infirmary.
His fears had been confirmed with the few simple images.
"Scout, you've er, had zhese coughing fits for how long again?"
"Like I said doc', been like, 2 weeks."
"And why didn't you come see me zhen?"
"'Cause ya' know…I hate doctors. Don't take it personal man. Ya' ain't that special."
Medic nodded, and slowly pulled the nubs of his stethoscope out of his ears, and draped the instrument around his neck.
"Scout it's not a cold, you have pneumonia."
The Bostonian's expression shifted to one that Medic quite honestly had never seen the expressive boy make. It was fear. That initial moment when fear grips your every bone, and sends the color draining from your face.
As if to make the news even worst, the Scout uncontrollably set off into another coughing fit. His throat burned, and his diaphragm ached with every crackling cough. His eyes watered, and he didn't even feel the Medic raising his arms high above his head until the coughing came to a standstill.
"Doc' man…w-what am I gonna do? I mean, I can't run. Not like this."
"Vell…normally I vould say, sure you can. To keep up moral and all zhat. But unfortunately Scout, zhere isn't much I can do. I lack the medication to treat such an illness, and er-" The Medic paused when the Scout's eyebrows knitted together, and his lips parted in such disbelief.
"There's…like gotta be somethin' ya' can do. I mean…I'll be freakin' fired if I don't get better…and Ma, I couldn't tell Ma I got fired 'cause-'cause I was sick." The boy's voice rose an octave in distress, and Medic's heart bled for the inkling. Though the Scout generally annoyed him out of his wits, he could understand how the boy felt at this given moment. This wasn't the first time he had broken bad news to a patient, but usually he thought that he would've enjoyed telling the Scout he was ill. Though, this time was different. He felt bad for the boy, not only because he was sick, but because there was literally nothing he could do to help. The Medi-gun didn't work on such sicknesses, and killing him wouldn't solve anything even with the respawn system. Though that might make the struggles worse if the boy were to pass while sick, he would have to relive it over and over and over again. That was unless the Administrator removed his respawn privileges.
"I'm sorry Scout."
"W-what's gonna happen?"
Medic closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, and let it linger in his lungs before letting it out in a long drawn out sigh.
"Your lungs…are slowly going to fill up vizh fluid…and eventually…" He paused and looked Scout deep in the eyes, seeing that the boy already knew the rest of his statement before he said it, and the Bostonian suddenly broke down into tears.
"Are-are ya' sure it's not a cold Doc'?" He croaked, and looked back up at Medic with glazed over eyes.
"If it vas a cold, you vould not have zhat much fluid in your lungs. And most of it vould have been expelled by now." His voice was low, and his eyes were apologetic as he watched the Bostonian emotionally crumble to pieces.
"So-so we got the technology for freakin' Medi-guns…teleporters…dispensers…respawn and everythin' and ya' don't have the resources to fix this stupid foonomia?"
"Pneumonia."
"Yeah whateva'." Scout sniffed and wiped his face and glared up at Medic expectantly.
"Scout, if I had zhe medicine I vould give it to you."
"I know I'm like…mean to ya' doc'… sometimes. And I give ya' a hard time and all that stuff…but come on, I can't believe ya' can't do anythin'…"
"Scout, I am not settling a personal vendetta by not giving you medications or somezhing if zhats's vhat you zhink. I can…" Medic glanced around and gestured to the hospital bed in the observational bed. "I can offer you a hospital bed vhile your out of commission. Who knows…you may pull zhrough at zhe end."
He already knew the boy wouldn't.