Medic rumpled his hair accidentally as he ground a palm into his tired eyes. He knew in his heart he was fighting a losing battle when he couldn't keep the sandman's grit from his eyes. He was tired but he needed to have these assessments recorded by the morning because he didn't think he would remember all the exam notes and he had forgotten his Dictaphone earlier. Better now to record them while it was fresh in his mind. Granted, fresh was not the first word that surfaced to describe his state of mind at o'two hundred hours. He popped his glasses back on and propped his chin up with is palm as he let out an exasperated sigh.

"Doktor cannot work forever." a deep voice said.

Medic startled and looked up from the solitary light at his desk to see Heavy's solid mass leaning cross-armed in the shadows of his office door jamb. Feeling tired and irritable he snapped, "I'm finishing up soon. Don't do zhat. You are going to give me ein heart failure."

The large dark shape lifted from the doorway and approached the paper cluttered work desk. A large hand pressed against Medic's back and rubbed in soft slow circles. "Work always come. Doktor needs sleep. Can always have more work. Cannot always have more sleep."

Leaning back into Heavy's soothing motion, he groaned, "I have to finish zhis. I will forget my assessments because I forgot to use der verdammte Dictophone. verdammte Scheiße!"

Heavy plopped a legal pad and pencil in front of him. "Make notes. Record papers later."

Medic sighed, "Zhat is twice zhe work! Why make notes and do zhe same job later when I can get it done now?" He sat up away from Heavy's ministrations and slammed his arms back on the desk. "I promise I will come to bed! I just need to get zhis done!" he stared bitterly down at the paperwork.

"Doktor need to focus, yes?"

"Ja."

"Doktor need to finish work, yes?"

"Ja."

Heavy leaned down to put his face close to the doctor's and Medic could smell Heavy's light aftershave and feel his breath against his cheek as Heavy whispered, "Maybe examination clear Doktor's head. Heavy thinking maybe he need exam."

Curiously, Medic's bloodshot eyes didn't bother him so much as he swallowed, "O-oh, J-Ja, Ja, I could do zhat."

. . .

A low and rhythmic thud is steadily driving a splitting wedge through his skull. Jane groaned as he was unwillingly roused from consciousness. Each pulse fell like a fist to his brain. Dear God, why did he drink so much? He looked blearily around. It appeared he and Demo had passed out on the floor, leaned up against the bar, arms thrown over each others shoulders and barstools strewn about over a bottle littered floor. His stomach stirred in warning that something was not right. Groaning, he clumsily untangled himself from Tavish who was still quite unconscious and drooling. If he made to get up, the room began to spin, or was it his stomach? If he didn't get up, he thought for sure his brain was going to explode from the pressure. What was that concoction he and Demo drank last? Maybe it wasn't such a hot idea to get bent on an empty stomach right after counteracting a paralytic.

He crawled through the wasteland of discarded bottles to the door. Hauling himself up to stand made his head hurt worse and he stood there for a while breathing air and pressing his face against the door moulding to get his pain under control. Murky thoughts surfaced. He could get a beer to take off the edge but the thought made his stomach flip. He knew at the very least he needed water. Maybe he should go see Medic about this horrendous headache. The infirmary was closer than the bathrooms and the mess hall. He would try there first.

Gathering up his self control, he stumbled into the dark hallway and slowly made his way through the concrete corridor that swam before him.

. . .

The bright light of the overhead OR lamp was almost painful. Heavy sat upon the sparse exam gurney draped in the harsh beam. They were surrounded by the pale dark gray of the mint colored privacy curtain and Medic was fiddling with a cart of implements nearby. As Medic pulled on his exam gloves he let his eyes linger over the form of the most beautiful animal he ever knew. The way his thick trunk held up his barrel chest captivated the doctor. Medic did not know where the dark scars that slashed across his belly came from. Heavy would always dodge answering the question and the healing beam never seemed to work on them. As many times as Medic has split him open and sealed him back up, you would never know to look at him. But those old angry scars, they would remain. It mattered not. Medic was comfortable letting Heavy keep his secrets. Some things it was better not to talk about until brought up on their own. He was content to dominate this behemoth while Heavy let him.

The light glanced off Heavy's chest hair as he drew in his slow measured breaths. The muscle that sewed his strong back together under a plane of thick soft skin lay slack as Heavy's arms rested against his sides. Even his short legs held their own beauty as the doctor took in their surprisingly refined contours. Heavy sat upon the gurney, covered in nothing but the radiance of the overhead light. Medic tried not to show it in his face as he took the time to marvel over what was in his opinion the most masculine example of odalisque his brain could conjure. This was how they liked to start. As the doctor would walk around the gurney pretending to be readying the accoutrements of an exam, he would glance over the stark pink skin awaiting him.

He turned in his jackboots, tawny pants, and light grey waistcoat. Adjusting his tie and rolling up his shirtsleeves,readied his stethoscope, and approached his patient. He placed the cold scope into the gleaming curls above Heavy's heart and began to listen. The quick rhythm betrayed Heavy's seeming calm. He placed the scope on Heavy's sternum and padded his fingers against Heavy's breast, cocking his head to the side listening. Moving the scope down, he listened to Heavy's stomach in a few places and palpated the giant's abdomen. He moved down further still. He tapped Heavy's knee and said softly, "Move, bitte." Heavy parted his knees and his half hardened member fell from resting on his thigh. Medic placed a hand against the inside of Heavy's thigh and placed the cold scope against his scrotum. Heavy sucked air in through his teeth at the cold sensation and his now erect member bounced and twitched.

"Ah," the doctor intoned looking up with a grin on his face. He pulled the stethoscope down to dangle around his neck. "Your involuntary reactions are intact. Let us test your reactions to stimulus." He leaned in and pressed his lips to the tip of Heavy's swollen penis before enclosing the whole with his mouth. As the doctor closed his eyes content to suckle and lathe, Heavy could not help but shutter and reach down to lovingly caress his doctor's face.

. . .

Dim lamp light leaked weakly through the glass of the infirmary doors, confirming Jane's assumption that the doctor would be up. As he unsteadily approached, Jane began to pick up muffled sounds from within. There was a slight sound of grating metal as if a gurney was being adjusted. It repeated along with the sound of a grunt. One of the doctor's gurneys must be rusty and he was having trouble getting it into the position he wanted. Another sound and also another grunt but this time it was from someone else? The noise became a steady cadence. The soldier reached the infirmary doors and peered through the windows. All the lights were out save one that was illuminating a shell of green privacy curtain near the back. The clear bulk of Heavy was outlined bent over a gurney and Medic clearly connected to him and trying desperately to be closer.

Jane tore away from the doors. He almost twisted an ankle careening towards the bathrooms. He knew he wasn't going to make it as a stream of emesis splattered to the floor.

Crashing through the door to the nearest stall, he fell to the toilet bowl and upended the most violent ejection of his gut contents that he'd ever experienced in his life. The initial heaves spewed ejectus out with phenomenal force but when his stomach was empty, he swore his body was trying to eject his guts too. He clutched the porcelain pitifully as he wretched again and again. Fear sweat matted his hair and vomit ran down his chin and out of his nose. He had crammed his eyes shut for the pressure and tears had squeezed out during the expulsion. As his innards finally resigned to the fact that they couldn't leave just yet, he released the toilet bowl and slid limply down the side to breathe. Feeling ill and shell shocked with the memory of Dell's "examinations", Jane curled himself around the cold plumbing and began to sob. He fell asleep mewling in his own vomit.

. . .

There was a tired shuffling as the door to the bathrooms opened. Feet did a lazy search for the nearest open stall and stopped. A soft, "Aw, Jesus." was uttered and then Jane was being pulled up by the shoulder.

Dell had wandered into the bathrooms in his PJs for a quick Sunday morning piss. He absent-mindedly scratched his butt in a sleepy haze until he shoved through the door. The stench of vomit hit his nose. Smells like someone tied one on that got away from them last night, he thought. He stepped around the tell tale trail of chunks that led to the first bathroom stall and pushed the door open. Jane lay covered in vomit on the floor, wrapped around the toilet bowl.

The Soldier still had his battle jacket on and Dell got a handful of the shoulder material to haul Jane out. His jacket and shirt were damp with stains of emesis. It soiled his face, there was some in his hair, and he reeked of bile. Jane groaned sickly as he was propped into a sitting position against the tiled walls. Dell sighed tiredly, "Aw, Jane." He ran a hand over his groggy eyes. After thinking a bit, he scratched his head, stood up and left.

It only took him a few minutes to retrieve his shower kit but when he arrived back in the bathrooms, Jane had slumped back over to the floor. Dell turned the lock on the bathroom door and set about his work. He pulled Jane back up and pulled his soiled jacket and shirt off. The cold tiles against Jane's back jolted him into a more sober state and he scooted away from the wall to hold his head in his hands. His skull felt like it would split and the overhead fluorescents were making it worse. The ambient electric hum seemed to magnify to deafening. "Mah head hurts." Jane complained weakly.

Dell turned and cut the overhead lights out. The low dawn light filtered delicately in through the old tempered glass windows. "Better?" he said as he turned back to pass a washrag back over Jane's forehead. Jane nodded miserably. Gently, Dell took a warm wash rag and began to clean his face. The vomit had dried to his mouth and nose and he had to lather him up good to loosen the dried mess. As he carefully wiped Jane's neck down, he kept pressing cups of water into Jane's hands telling him, "Come'on, Sol. Drink more water. You need water, son. You had a helluva bender. Ya need water. Attaboy. Here, take these aspirin." He wiped the soap from Jane's grizzled face and began cleaning some of the vomit out of his hair.

Jane's brow knit in pain as he hung his head. Dell thought it might be his headache and he was going to ask if he was scrubbing too hard but then Jane's broad shoulders began to hitch and tears glittered in the morning light as they fell to the concrete floor. Jane sobbed as quietly as he could into his hands. Dell stopped his cleaning and lay a hand on Jane's shoulder.

"Sol? Sol, you, . . you wanna talk about it?" he said quietly. Jane just shook his head as tears rolled down his face.

Dell soothed circles over his back, "'salright. 'salright, Sol. That's okay. 'salright, buddy. It's okay." He let Jane get it all out, all the while running a hand along his back. Dell had a feeling it was like the vomit, it needed to come out. When Jane had hiccuped the last of his tears, Dell put his arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. "'sgonna be alright, Sol. 'sgonna be okay. Kay? We're gonna figure things out, partner. Don't worry, Sol. Don't worry. 'sgonna be okay."

Dell finished cleaning his hair up and then gave him a toothbrush with paste. "Gotta brush it out, unless you enjoy the taste of barf." While Jane brushed his teeth, Dell took care of that morning piss and when he came back, coerced Jane into drinking two more cups of water. Jane wouldn't look at him and Dell didn't take offense. It was a tough thing crying in front of another man. Dell was trying his best to preserve what dignity Jane had left.

Jane blew his nose and whispered, "Fuck."

Dell had to chuckle, "Got in there too, huh? Ain't nothing like hurl in yer nasal cavity. Goddamn, what'd you drink last night?"

Jane shrugged absently as he tossed the tissue in the waste bin.

"You think you can eat something?" Dell asked. Jane shook his head slowly. He felt like right about now he'd rather be six feet under than anything else but he let Dell take him by the arm. "Okay, buddy. You ain't fit for doing anything today. Come-on. Let's get you to bed to sleep some o' this off." and Dell guided him back to his room.

He could have just left the Soldier to himself but Dell saw him into his room and shut the door. He let go of his arm as he pulled back the blankets on Jane's bed and guided him to sit. "Take yer pants off and give'm here. I think you puked on those too. I'll run'm by the laundry. You need to rest, partner. Imma check on you later but you try and get some shut eye." he told him as he tucked the pillow up under Jane's head. Pulling the blankets back over him, he placed a nearby trash can by the bed. "Try to stay on your side. I don't want ya ta choke if ya get sick again." He placed a thick hand on Jane's forehead to gauge his temperature. "Awright, Sol. Try and rest." and he placed a cup full of water at the bedside table. Dell closed the door quietly.

Jane lay in bed as the base was waking up. He stared to the window in the dim concrete room. He pulled the wool blanket that Dell placed over him closer as fat tears fell from the tip of his nose. But warm and tired, he fell asleep.