IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Uh, Endergirl? Didn't you update like...less than a day ago?
YES, and there is a good reason! This chapter is INEXCUSABLY short. You see, I have this entire story finished. (I always pre-write so I don't feel pressure to update) And as I was looking back over my story I realized how short this chapter was and I tried to add to it to make it longer but I liked it way it was. I also defied the laws of medicine slightly in this chapter, hopefully nobody notices what it is. Bonus points to you if you realize XD
ANYWAY, thanks to generalisssimos for favoriting, thanks to Datacow40 for favoriting and following, and HUGE thanks to Annomynous and Giselle for reviewing.
To Giselle: This chapter is for you, hon. Despite it's length, I hope you enjoy it. And NEVER feel like you're spamming me with reviews, I love reading them all. I'm glad you're enjoying my story!
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Scout had protested the entire ten flights of stairs, trying to kick away from the doctor while blood continued to drench himself and Medic. Scout had always seemed to seek out trouble, and there was no contest as to who was in the medical bay the most. Whether it was a paper cut or a broken neck, Scout was always whining to the doctor about something. Medic was often teased that he acted like a mother to the mercenaries, and he had to agree. A practical, indifferent mother that would put a bullet in your head and let you respawn to save resources. Everyone had been shocked when Medic had started doing that, but they soon realized it was the most human thing to do. He had first done it when Soldier was on the battle field with both of his legs blown off, trying to crawl back to the medical bay like some twisted horror movie. Medic had rushed out to meet him, but seeing the situation he calmly pulled out a pistol and put one right in between Solly's eyes. Though a respawn like that was particularly traumatic, it was better than trying to sew his legs back on.
"I can walk," Scout said for the hundredth time while Medic just held him tighter to keep the boy from slithering out of his grasp.
"So I've heard," Medic replied emotionless. Though his face didn't show it, everyone around him knew that he was pissed off. Scout had been slurring his words since the sixth floor and blood kept trickling out of the side of his mouth. All of the mercs were a bit worried about the Bostonian, despite him getting on their nerves 100% of the time.
"Will little man be allright?" Heavy asked as he brought up the rear.
"Ja, if he vould just pass out already." Medic grumbled, but he got his wish as they reached their floor. Scout had gone completely limp and Medic struggled a bit from the dead weight. His stamina was uncontested, but by the time he had climbed ten flights of stairs with a tiny grown man wrapped in his arms, he was trembling with effort as Demo unlocked his room. Spy didn't look up at first, but then snapped his head up at the amount of people entering his room. "Clear ze table," Medic instructed and Heavy complied, clearing the entire dining table with one sweep of his giant arm. Medic laid Scout down gently, and he was reminded of the day before they had gotten the letter about the vacation, when he had sewn up his shoulder.
"What 'appened?" Spy suddenly appeared by the table, his eyes darting from Scout to the Medic. "Why is zere so much blood?" he took a long drag of his cigarette and blew a tendril of smoke all over where Medic was trying to work.
"Vhat, suddenly developing feelings for your teammates, Spy?" Medic growled, taking a small bag from Sniper who had rushed to their room to get his medical supplies. Spy was a bit taken aback, but he regained his composure almost immediately.
"Are you going to operate on him? Here?" Spy aid disdainfully, gesturing with his cigarette to the unconscious Scout lying on the table. Medic ignored him and began laying instruments on the table.
"As much as I vould like to operate, no. I just need to get zis bleeding stopped before he dies." Medic's steel gray eyes met with Spy's muddy blue ones and Spy looked away. "Now vould you be so kind as to remove your smoldering cancer stick from zis environment?" he said without looking up again. Wordlessly, Spy moved to the opposite side of the room and watched from there. Medic selected a roll of gauze and began tearing off chunks of it. "Sniper, help me roll him onto his stomach." Sniper was immediately by Medic's side and they rolled Scout onto his stomach. "Now hold his head up," Medic instructed and Sniper did as he was told. The collected blood in Scout's nose cavity poured out, spreading into a small puddle on the table. Medic felt a miniscule twinge of panic flare in his chest. Spy was right. There was a lot of blood.
Medic took Scout's head from Sniper and began stuffing gauze into his nostrils until they became soaked with blood and he removed them, inserting new ones. Scout's nose was desperately swollen and purple already, but he didn't wake as they rolled him onto his back again. All of the mercenaries breathed a little easier as the bleeding stopped, but only Medic was horrible aware of something.
Aware of how incredibly pale the boy was.
He picked up Scout's limp wrist in his hands and barely detected a pulse.
He curls his hands up like a child when he sleeps… Medic noticed briefly, the thought flying out of his mind as quickly as it had entered.
"What now?" Spy said when he saw Medic's expression. Medic began digging through his bag until he found what he was looking for, a huge needle and a blood bag. Not the most sterile circumstances, but he gritted him teeth and inserted the needle into the tough flesh around his wrist. He briefly considered the scar tissue might be an issue, but he immediately found a vein and his blood filled the needle, thick and hot. "Docteur?" Spy put his hand on the doctor's shoulder but Medic didn't feel it as he went in with the needle again, drawing more until he had filled the bag. Woozily, he stood up and inserted an IV into Scout's thin arm and held the bag in the air, leaning on a dresser for support.
"Josef!" Heavy booming voice snapped Medic out of his trance and he wildly looked at his team. "Team is speaking to you." He said quieter this time, realizing how badly he had scared the doctor.
"We asked if you were his blood type, mate," Sniper said gently, still in his speedo.
"Vhat? Yes, yes, I'm O negative. Universal," he mumbled and turned his attention back to Scout, whose breathing had become stronger.
"Let's go get you cleaned up, whaddya say, doc?" Sniper offered. "Engie can take 'im back to their room and look ova him. You know Pyro won't let anyfing hurt the boy," Sniper said and began to steer the doctor away from Scout, before Medic noticed Engie's chest. He broke away from Sniper and saw the angry red scratches Scout had gouged in his neck and chest.
"I'll be fine doc. I'll come git ya if I need ya," he said kindly and Medic was dragged to his room. When the door had closed, Engie turned around to face the rest of the team. "I don't care what y'all have to say about that man. He might be a bit strange at times, but that there is a good man. I don't never want to hear y'all disrespect him again."
Next time on The Mercs Take New York:
Medic was upright on the couch, gripping the sides so tightly his knuckles were white. He was glistening with sweat and every muscle in his body was tensed, poised to strike.
Oooh suspense...I can write more than humor, you know! Sadly, I probably won't be updating until after Christmas. Family and stuff takes up time. But until then: Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanza, Happy whatever you celebrate!
EVERYONE BE HAPPY
