Uhm..

READ ON?

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RED's Scout was used to RED's Medic after months of living in the same base with him. The REDs always followed the orders of RED's Soldier, but when it came down to it, Medic truly ruled the roost during the cease fires. He would nammer on and order people around, and no one ever thought to disobey him. He enjoyed their pain far too much for the group think that he wouldn't enjoy operating on them in their sleep. Scout was beginning to find his overbearing nature to be one of the few constants in the base. Even Soldier stopped barking orders just long enough to congratulate others on a job well done, but Medic never changed.

That was why when, one day, Medic ghosted past a pile of broken beer bottles without so much as a screech, Scout felt it necessary to keep an eye on the German. Medic ordered that Heavy clean up after the mess the Russian made eating breakfast, but it wasn't with the German's usual angry tone, and not once did he let out a "Schweinhund". It just wasn't right!

Scout found this disconcerting, and decided to do a quick test on the older man. He braced himself for the beatings and hopped up behind the man. "Doc! Hey Doc, Doc! Medic Medic Medic Doc common!"

"Vat is it…?" Medic said lowly, hobbling over to a couch and flopping onto it. The German let out an exasperated sigh and held his forehead in his latex gloved hand. "Scout, az you can zee… I am not in zee mood…"

"Doc, what's up? You're sweatin'." Scout reached out to touch the German, but Medic swatted the hand away with a threatening growl.

"Schweinhund, I told you. I am not in zee mood. Come to me vhen you are hurt."

Scout wondered if "fearful of a friend's wellbeing" was hurt enough to continue. "But Doc, you…" the young man took a step back in surprise as Medic swayed where he sat and flopped on the couch. The Bostonian gasped. "Doc? Doc, you okay?"

He certainly didn't look okay. Medic was sweating all over, and his breathing was labored. His eyes were closed, and he simply lay on the couch, as docile as a house pet, breathing deeply and groaning in what Scout assumed was pain.

"Holy crap oh god Doc Medic Doc cummon pull yourself together!!" Scout flailed lightly. The crazy bastard looked fine just an hour ago! What the hell happened!? "Someone! Someone! Engie, Hardhat, get over here!" He rushed to the room's doorway, held himself on the guards, and took a deep breath. There was only one surefire way to get RED's Engineer to come to him no matter what: "NEEDADISPENSERHERE NEEDADISPENSERHERE NEEDADISPENSERHERE NEEDADISPENSERHERE!!"

Two minutes and thirty four seconds. A new record. "What in tarnation, Boy!?" Engineer shouted angrily as he entered the room, prepared to beat some sense into the Bostonian. "It's a doggone cease fire right now! Why in the hell would anyone needa… oh."

Scout immediately moved out of the way for Engineer to scratch his hardhat and inspect Medic closely. "Oh man, Hardhat, is he okay? Please tell me he's okay!"

"Look, Boy, Imman Engineer, notta doctor."

"But isn't that what a PhD IS?" Scout flailed and rushed to stand by Engineer and in front of Medic. "I mean, you're like, Doctor Engineer, right? Cummon, man!"

"Yeah, I'm guessin' ya could say that, but I'm not that kinda doctor."

"Oh god, Medic's gunna diiiiie!"

Scout stopped his whining when a latex glove slapped him in the face. The sweating Medic was still breathing in gasps, and his eyes were closed, but he still had some sense of conscious, even if the slap wasn't. The Bostonian rubbed his red cheek and blinked at the man who assaulted him. Now the face didn't look so pained as much as it was annoyed.

"'mmfine…" the elder man said in between gasps. "Just…tired."

"Ya don't look 'just tired', Doc." Engineer said. He looked up at Scout and lifted his gloved finger. "Righto, Boy. Go fetch me a bucket o' water n' Heavy. Not so hard."

"Right!" The young man stood and nodded at the German, "Just you wait, Doc, we'll have you fixed up in no time!"

"Vhy… Heavy…?" Medic managed to gasp in his sleep as Scout rushed from the room, shouting something about "Whose sandwich is this, anyway?"

Engineer found a pillow to prop the German's head up so he could rest easier for the time being. "Can't have ya sleepin' out here, can we, Doc?"

Medic grumbled and attempted to move. His hand lifted lazily up, but it flopped back down. "Schweinhund, I… vill not be… carried."

"Of course you won't," Engineer said, removing the man's glasses. Medic attempted to snatch them back, but it was in vain. He was just too fatigued to move. "Sunstroke, or just fever?"

"…Jast a… fever…"

"You shoulda been restin' Doc."

"Zere… iz no time…"

Engineer sighed. Always looking out for everyone else, but having no time for himself. Perhaps the man wasn't as much a bastard as they all thought.

…on second thought…

"Doktor!" Engineer winced when he heard the booming voice. RED's Heavy Weapons Guy stood in the doorway, staring down at the Medic. "Doktor, what is wrong?" He lurched forward to inspect his friend. "Doktor, speak to Heavy!"

Engineer reached up and stopped the Russian before he could move any closer. "Careful there, big guy. 'e's not really able to be handled roughly, got it? We gotta take him nice 'n' gently ta thah ward. Ya got that?"

Heavy looked down at the German ("I svear to gott I vill kill him if he touchez me.") and nodded. "Da, I can do that."

"Nice one, ya big lug." Engineer slapped Heavy's back with a laugh. "Now, if ya'd do the honors!"

Heavy was pretty good at being a tender guy when he really got down to it, so Engineer smiled and pat himself on the back for choosing the Russian to carry Medic to the medical ward. The Texan immediately retracted his previous thoughts when Heavy reached out with one arm and tucked the German under his arm as if he were carrying a football. Medic swung precariously in the man's huge grip, and Engineer frowned widely.

"RIGHT THEN!" Engineer led the way to the ward, with Heavy striding behind him. Medic continued to sway back and forth like some sort of strange, demented pendulum. The German was in no position to fight back, but he was secretly thinking of various ways to cleave the Russian in two. Someday. Someday he would be slaughtered for his transgressions…

The ward was completely clean, which came as no surprise, as Medic had cleaned it completely that very morning just a half hour before passing out. Engineer did his best to prepare a bed the way Medic did, and Heavy plopped the German down as "tenderly" as he could. Medic coughed violently and Engineer chuckled.

"S-sorry, Doc. I really didn't know Heavy would be so…"

"Doktor, get well soon!" Heavy interrupted Engineer. Medic frowned deeply in his sleep.

"V-vater…?" the German asked.

Engineer worked to remove Medic's boots as he replied to the man. "Scout's goin' fer it right now." He placed the boots next to the bed and stood with a stretch. "Lemme see if I kin find some aspirin while we wait."

"Ja… good…"

Heavy found a seat to sit at while Engineer moved around the ward. Medic attempted to guide the Texan, but he was getting weaker and weaker. It was hard just staying conscious.

"Heavy, don't let 'im fall asleep, now. We may not git 'im ta wake back up." Engineer then remembered what happened last time Heavy "helped", and he winced. "On second thought, just talk ta 'im, git it?"

"Da," Heavy replied. "Doktor, when will you be good again?"

"H-heavy…"

"It is soon, I hope! It is very quiet without you."

Medic attempted to find something to say in response to that. "…D-danke…"

Heavy looked worried, and stood up to inspect Medic's face closely. The man wasn't breathing a heavily, and the Russian gulped. "Doktor? Are you sleeping?" Heavy tested the man's face, "Doktor, now is not the time for sleeping! Doktor!"

"Hey guys, I'm back! How's Doc?" Scout called, rushing into the room with a bucket of water sloshing around his feet. "I got the water!" he proclaimed, as if such a feat deserved a medal.

"Ah! Good, Boy! Find some aspirin!" Engineer said, grasping the bucket from Scout's hands and shoving the boy off to do something else. "Heavy, outta the way, the doc needs some water to recuperate!"

"Doktor will be okay, da?"

Engineer was in the process of wiping down the doctor's face with a wet rag and dunking a glass into the bucket. "He's stronger'n ya think, Heavy. We just gotta hope fer thah best."

"Yeah, Doc can like saw a freakin' Pyro in half while ON FIRE by that Pyro's flamethrower, all FWOOOSH," Scout said, popping up between the two with a bottle in hand, "if that's not freakin' the most hardcore thing on the planet, I have no idea what is!"

Engineer chuckled as he nudged Medic lightly. "Doc, I need ya ta open up. C'mon, ready?"

"…Neiiin…?" came the throaty gurgle.

"Well, 'least 'e's still alive. Bottoms up, Doc!" The German gagged lightly on the water as Engineer practically dumped the entire glass down his "patient's" throat. Medic gasped and coughed and finally settled down, muttering something about pain. Well, at least he finally had something to help flush his system.

"Hey, by the way, Hardhat. I got somethin', I think it's aspirin. Shall we give him some?" Scout said, offering the unmarked bottle to Engineer. The Texan looked at it, and turned to Scout.

"You don't… Scout… ya don't give guys pills that ya don't know nothin' about. E'en if it was aspirin, we don't know the dosage. One o' these thin's kin hurt Doc if the dosage was too high. Didn't ya find anythin' that was more concrete?"

"Not really?" Scout frowned, and shrugged at the man. "I mean, all the bottles are unmarked. You think Medic did it on purpose?"

The Texan sighed. "I wouldn't doubt it. He does gotta few screws loose."

Scout looked downcast, and he slumped forward. "So then we wait?"

Engineer looked downcast. "Yeah…" he said lightly, turning to the passed out Medic, "…yeah, we wait…"

---

A few hours had passed, and Scout eventually got bored (in three seconds, no less). He asked Engineer to watch out for the German and ran off somewhere. Heavy grew restless and hungry after a while, and soon the Russian left to prepare "sandviches" for both he and the Texan. Engineer was left to care for the medical practitioner.

"It really ain't fair, ya know," he told the sleeping Medic, "I should be makin' additions on mah sentrehs, not carin' fer you."

Medic continued to sleep. The only noise in the entire ward was the soft ticking of the clock just above Medic's work desk.

"Git better soon, Medic. We need ya more than ya know."

"Dummkopf, I know zat."

Engineer sighed and glared at the sleeping (but still talking) Medic. "Ya know, ya could at least pretend ta be sleepin' when I'm bein' all mushy."

Medic smiled through his closed eyes. "Vere vould zee fun in zat be?" The German shifted, and Engineer tensed when he hissed. "Zere iz ztill pain… I need zomezink."

"Scout looked fer some aspirin, but all yer bottles're unmarked. Any particular reason fer that, Doc?"

"Zo you dummkopfs don't zteal zem." His smile widened as he opened his eyes and scanned the room. "You don't vant to take pillz you don't know about, ja? For all you know, zey could be cyanide. Only I know vere each bottle iz located."

Engineer blinked, and looked at the bottle that Scout had obtained beforehand. "Well, yeah… but Scout just tore the place apart lookin' fer aspirin. Ya sure ya kin find 'em now?"

Medic glared at one of the bottles as if it could make the Bostonian's head explode right there. "Bah, I know vat aspirin lookz like. It vas…" he lifted his hand and pointed, "…somevere over zere."

Engineer sighed and stood. He crossed the ward and began rifling through the bottles. "Ya gotta find a better way ta label these thin's, Doc."

"I don't need to know vat zey zay on zee outzide. I know vat zey look like on zee inzide." Medic insisted. He waited as Engineer checked the insides of the bottles, and finally the German spoke up. "Doez zat vhan have blue viting stamped on zem?"

"Huh? These ones?" The Texan stared at them and nodded. "Yeah. These the ones?"

"Brink zem over. Danke, my hard hatted friend." Engineer brought the bottle over and fished out one of the pills. "Zwei".

Engineer looked up at Medic with a blink. "What?"

"Two, I need two of zem, dummkopf."

"I don't understand yer fancy German talkin'," Engineer said, "I mean, yer from Europe, like Spah, right? I don't trust any Spah language 's far 's I kin throw it."

Medic smiled as Engineer prepared the two pills and another glass of water. "You can't zpeak any language azide from 'Schwein', ja?"

"'Kin speak thah language o' scientists; anythin' mathematical, I know, so don't git all high 'n' mighty."

Medic smiled and was about to open his mouth to speak when two pills flew expertly into his mouth. He coughed on them as his gagging reflex kicked in, and he reached for the glass of water. "Schweinhund!!" he choked, sucking down the water as fast as he was able.

"Yer mah patient now, Doc. No one else in this gawd fersaken hole'll do it, so ya should probably treat me a little nicer."

Medic finished his water and glared at the man. "Zis iz blackmail, schweinhund."

"Ss'been a while since I could admit ta summin like this, so just kick back fer once and let a man take care o' you."

Medic glared at Engineer in anger. This was by far the worst day of the year. Not in his life, of course; there were plenty worse days than this. But this might reach his top ten; after all, the day wasn't even over. "Fine zen, I vill rest for now. But vhen I am vell, you vill donate your organz to me."

"'n' what if I refuse?"

"I never said you could refuze, dummkopf."

The Texan wondered if Medic grasped the nuances of what "donate" meant in the English language. "Look, yer hungry, right? Lemme make some soup 'r summin."

"I zuppoze. I can get it myzelf, you know."

Engineer chuckled as he moved to the doorway and opened it. He turned to the Medic and pointed at him gruffly; "Not today yer not. Just sit tight, a'ight? Imma git ya yer soup and ya'll just sit pretty there, mm'kay?"

"Zomeday I vill remove your head from itz shoulderz." Nevertheless, the German settled down and made himself comfortable in the bed.

Engineer smiled and left the room. He said that to everyone he knew, and by now the Texan had seen it as a phrase of endearment. Medic was already asleep again by the time the door to the medical ward was closed.

Medic had just about gotten comfortable in the bed when a feeling of dread attacked him. He attempted to sneak from the bed, but it was too late. The door was slammed open and RED's Demoman came barreling in. "Medic!" The Scotsman shouted. "Medic, git off yer rear an' fix my 'and!"

"Medic! Where are you?" Medic shifted lower under the sheets and shuddered lightly when Soldier entered the ward. His shoulder was off kilter; it was probably pulled out of its socket. Medic would have been surprised that he showed no pain, but really, it was Soldier. It really wasn't that shocking, honestly. "Maggot, I need this shoulder realigned! Hop to it!"

"Back off, boyo! I needed his help first!"

"You seared your hand because of your own idiocy, maggot! This arm…" He shuddered suddenly from the pain, and shook it off, "was from a scuffle with a BLU! Medic, fix it, NOW."

"Medic, I cannae make bombs wit' a screwed up 'and!"

"Medic!"

"Mediiiiiic!"

Medic counted backwards from ten and looked up at the two. "I… I cannot do anyzink vit you shoutink all of zee time…"

"Wut's goin' on in here?" Medic thanked his lucky stars that Engineer was returning. It was the first time in his knowledge that he ever wanted the Texan in the ward. The man looked around and blinked at the two arguing men. "Ya'll soundin' like a buncha children."

"My arm's dislocated and this maggot is refusing to realign it!" Soldier insisted.

"This hand'll nevah get bettah witout Medic!"

Engineer rolled his eyes in exasperation, and practically tossed the tray of soup at Medic. The German cried out, afraid that the hot liquid would splash on him. "Eat up, Doc, we need ya bettah ASAP."

"I need him better NOW, MAAAARRRRRRGFFFFFFFUUUHHHH!" Soldier cursed violently when Engineer grabbed Soldier's shoulder in one hand and his arm in the other. With a swift movement, he snapped the arm upwards and shoved it back into its socket.

"There, now quit yer whinin'." Engineer said, wiping his hands off. The three men stared at him in horrified surprise, and the Texan shrugged. "Mah granpa always dislocated 'is shouldah when I was a kid. Not so hard ifn ya know what ta do."

Medic blinked, and decided not to dwell on it. He looked down at his soup and began to eat it. "Ja, zat hand needs cold vater." The German's eyes landed on the bucket that held his drinking water. "Could you, mein nurse?"

"Ya'll better not be gettin' any ideas." Engineer warned. Nevertheless, the Texan worked on Demoman's hand, and after a good soaking, it was wrapped in a cold, wet bandage. "There! Ain't such a bad job, I reckon!"

"It still hurts." Demoman said with a glare, reminding Engineer that no one could replace their medic. Nevertheless, he left the ward with a glower at the two. Engineer rubbed his head through his hard hat and turned to Medic.

"So, how's the soup?"

"It iz zalty." Medic replied.

Engineer smiled brightly at the frown Medic wore. "Ya need yer salt. Help yer body heal itself."

"You Americanz put too much zalt in everyzink." Medic insisted.

"Ya'll don't put enough salt in anythin'. Now quit yer whinin' and eat the darned thing."

"I am, schweinhund."

Engineer sighed and slunk into the seat next to Medic's bed. It really was almost not worth it. He should just let the bastard get himself killed off from sickness. The German suddenly became very self conscious of the Texan, who was just sitting in the chair right next to him. He usually either ate solo or in the mess hall, not with an American he didn't quite trust staring at him.

"Wut's up, Doc?"

"Jast…" Medic opened his mouth, but thought against it and returned to his soup. "Nozink."

Engineer shook his head and sighed. Some people. Just… some people.

---

It took a long while, but Medic finally ate the rest of his soup, and afterwards he glared at Engineer until he passed out on the bed. The Texan sighed in exasperation and happiness. Finally, he could go get some work done. He really hoped that Medic would be back to normal come tomorrow. He was just overworked, and would probably be back to normal once he slept the day away.

The engineer nearly hit the roof in surprise when he closed the door behind him. "Hey Hard Hat!" Scout shouted from behind. Engineer whirled around and shoved a finger onto his lips.

"Tarnation, Boy, he needs his sleep! Doggone it!"

Scout frowned. He didn't think he ever remembered a time when Medic was asleep. It unnerved the young man to know that Medic was really sick. Who was supposed to heal the doctor when the doctor got sick, anyway? "Yeah, sorry, Hard Hat. How's the doc doin'?"

"He'll be fine, I reckon. Just give 'em a while ta rest, a'ight?"

Scout looked at Engineer and nodded. "Right!"

And that's when he truly knew it; Engineer had a family back at his home, so it was obvious how easily he took the duties over when Medic could not. Scout was really glad; they were fortunate that he was around so Medic could have a little down time.

Now Scout would just have to learn how to find the aspirin in case the both of them caught a fever. The Bostonian was going to be totally ready for it.

---

The ending is pending. I dunno if I should add to it. What do you guys think?

And it's really funny how many times this could have turned into hurt/comfort/rape/whatever porn in the hands of someone who cared about something like that. I'm glad I haven't seen something like that yet, otherwise writing this would leave a bad taste in my mouth. I've already read a horrible story about a "Secretary", and now I'm too afraid to write one into my TF2verse. We'll see though.