It took Scout a long time before he actually knocked on the door to Medic's office. He felt pathetic, with scratches and bites and blood covering his body, and his puffy swollen eye, and his still-bleeding ear. Fuck, he felt like a dumbass. King Dumbass… Oh, wait, what was that one that Soldier barked at him the other day? King Shit of Turd Mountain? Yeah… that felt real accurate at the moment.
Finally, Scout knocked on the door to the clinic. Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass! He shouldn't be here; he should be in bed… maybe in bed with Hardhat. But either way, he should be in bed; he shouldn't have been upstairs looking for Sniper. Finding that damn RED Spy was his own damn fault.
Fuck.
"Come in, and danke for knocking," the Medic's voice came from the clinic, and Scout took a breath before entering to get his courage up. He had to put on a brave face—he was Scout after all. Cocky bastard. Heh… yeah. Okay, there, asshole mode activated, go go go!
Scout opened the door and poked his head in before he actually stepped into the clinic. It was surprisingly bright inside because the lights were turned on. But how come? It had to be at least one in the morning. Fuck… maybe Medic WAS busy with something and Scout really shouldn't have come in the first place. Damnit. Brilliant fucking timing as always, Scout.
"At first," the Medic seemed to be talking to himself or at least speaking to Scout regardless of the boy actually listening, "I zought it vas Scout coming in zhe middle of zhe nacht, but zince you auctually knocked… Scout! My, my, it is you, I apolo—Mein Gott, vhat happened to you?"
Yeah, that's right, I finally come to you for help and I'm fucking NICE about it and you don't even fucking care that I… oh… you DO care… fucking bipolar doctor…
"I… er… ran into a Spy, Dawk…" Scout admitted as he watched the Medic walk towards him, all business and discipline in his steps. Long, gloved fingers began to prod at the Scout's face, running over the bruises and cuts in a surprisingly gentle way. That felt kinda nice, Dawk… Ow!
"Hey—whadder'ya doing?" Scout demanded as his neck was turned sharply to the side and his chin was turned downwards.
"I am looking at yoah ear, Scout… How did a Spy get a hold of you? You zhould have been too fast for him, ja?" Crap, the Medic's Suspicious Button had been pushed, and Scout had no way out of this one. But… fuck, it was embarrassing! First of all he was going to go see Sniper of all people… well… 'Of all people' was probably the wrong way to say it; the guy was almost as sexually active as Scout was. But still, going to a cranky, only-showers-when-it-rains-Aussie was pretty fucking lame, even for Scout. Second of all, it wasn't Sniper it was a FUCKING SPY.
Fuck… God fucking damnit. He didn't want to tell Medic, who would anyway?
"Scout? Vhere vas zhe Spy? Not in ouah base, I hope."
"Er, sorry, Dawk… Yeah, he was in the base… Don't worry, I killed him."
"Vell, vhere ist he, hmm? Surely you did not just leave him somevhere to rot."
"Er…"
"… Scout…"
"Eh… About dat, Dawk… He was in the Sniper's room. Er, his 'nest'."
Scout closed his eyes and winced as the Medic held his ear gently as he looked at it properly. He heard the rustling of sheets all of a sudden and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard someone speak behind Medic.
"Oi, wotcha doin in me room, Scout?"
"S-Sniper!"
From one of the hospital beds lined up along the wall, the team's Sniper—the real Sniper—made himself known. He looked a little thinner than usual, but it was still the same old gruff-yet-ruggedly-handsome-Aussie that the team knew and loved. Medic smirked knowingly.
"I found zhe Sniper passed out in his nest seveahly dehydrated. Zhe idiot had not eaten in drei days."
"Ah, ain't a big deal, mate—"
"Do not 'mate' me, Sniper."
Scout sighed and let the two finish arguing. Medic, who was very much the fatherly figure of the group (hell, maybe even the motherly figure), and Sniper, who was like an older brother to the team, often butted heads more than they actually agreed on something.
Well, this explained why the Sniper hadn't been in his nest… Scout felt his face flush at the thought. Fuck, not only had he gone to fuck someone who WASN'T Hardhat, he had gone when the guy would have been passed out. Now he felt even worse! God damnit he had bad timing…
"Oi, Scout. Ya didn't ansah me."
"O-oh… Sniper… I was just checkin' on ya, man… hadn't seen ya for a few days, ya know?" Scout quickly made the excuse, but he was unable to look the older man in the eye. In all truth he didn't even know that the Medic had grabbed him and taken him to the clinic. He doubted that anyone knew. Sniper was always one to do his own thing.
It took a while because of Scout's flinching and dodging questions—("Fuck you, man, you ain't putting that cold shit on my neck—OW FUCK why are you putting a syringe THERE and oh… oh wow… nothing hurts now… Wow, Dawk, how'd ya do that? Are ya fuckin… fuckin magic or something…? Fuckin tired now, man…")—to get him cleaned up and bandaged. Sniper watched the whole time, adding in snide comments on occasion,
"Those love-marks from teeth or a knife, mate?",
"Ya nevah bloody listened before, now ya have an excuse." and of course,
"Check undah his shorts, Medic, ya know… just in case."
Now, Scout would have responded. Fuck, he would have responded. But whatever the Medic had pumped into him was making him drowsy, and he didn't really want to deal with Sniper's nasty comments at the moment. Tomorrow, yes. Now, no. Definitely no. Fuck no.
So, bandages on his ear, ointment around his eye, and several stitches around his shoulders and neck, and Scout was finally ready for bed.
"Do not vorry about zhe Spy's body, Scout. I vill make sure zhat it is taken care of. Now, go and rest. I am sure you have had a long day."
"Thanks, Dawk… really, I appreciate it a lot," Scout smiled at the reassurance as he hopped off of the examination table. He stumbled a little, and Medic caught his elbow to help him balance. He watched Scout toddle off with a somewhat fond expression.
"Have Scout and zhe Engineer been fighting, Sniper?"
"They were just bein' silly at dinnah the other night, that's all I can figyah."
"Ah… It must be frustrating vith a much younger lover," Medic muttered matter-of-factly as he turned back to the Sniper. His usually strong Jaw of Seriousness and Science loosened up as a smile formed across his face.
"I am glad that ve are more mature zhan zhat."
Sniper laughed quietly, nodding.
"Yeah, mate… I think we do pretty well for ourselves. Now bloody kiss me."
"You vill do vell to remember who is zhe boss around here, ja?"
"Shaddap ya wankah…"
----
"Um… Hardhat…?"
Scout was standing in front of the Engineer's bed, looking down at him. Or at least, he thought he was looking down at him. It was fucking pitch black in Hardhat's room, Scout wasn't even sure how he had gotten in there in the first place. Hell, he didn't know how he got the courage to go inside in the first place. But thank God it was dark. Thank fucking God it was dark. He didn't want Hardhat to worry about the (really nice) shiner that he had, or see the cuts and stitches and other bruises all along his shoulders and neck.
The sound of rustling came from in front of Scout.
"Mng… Ya have a bad dream, boah?"
Ouch… no, really… OUCH. Irony hit him in the face, but he kept his cool… sort of.
"Y-yeah… can… can I sleep with you, Hardhat?"
More rustling. Scout could almost see him in the dark, scooting back in the bed to give him room and holding the sheets up for him to crawl under. Scout gratefully climbed into the bed and snuggled up to Engineer so that his back was pressed firmly against the older man's chest. Scout instantly felt better. Everything was okay now; he was with Engie—he was with his Hardhat. As Engineer wrapped a strong arm around Scout's waist, somehow missing any wounds, Scout felt safe and warm and protected. He closed his eyes and snuggled in for a great night's sleep.
"Scout… Ah was thinkin'…" The soft hum of Hardhat's deep voice vibrated in his chest, and his breath hit Scout's bad ear, and he almost winced. But he listened intently.
"Yeah?"
"If… well, shoot. If bein a bit… rougher… when we… ya know… have a romp in the hay… if'n it means that much to ya, well then Ah'm willing to do anything. Even punch ya in the face."
And the Engineer didn't understand why Scout very slowly curled his body against him, or why his shoulders started shaking. Engineer didn't know why Scout was holding his breath to try and stop sobbing. But he did know that Scout was crying, and that's all that mattered.
They spent a good ten minutes curled together, the Engineer suddenly alert to his lover's tears and rubbing his back soothingly. He waited until the boy finally fell asleep, exhausted. Engineer made a promise to himself to give Scout a good time tomorrow.
He would even punch him once or twice.
Very... *very* carefully.