Chapter Text
It was strange.
One moment, you remembered that you were working on the factory floor, amongst your peers and heavy machinery that droned in your ears that gave you a roaring headache. You had been working just fine and you had bent down to pick something up off the floor. You think it was some sort of tool. You remember going down. You don’t remember coming back up. The next thing you knew, you opened your eyes and you were staring at a white ceiling with a bright light dangling above your head.
A sudden wave of exhaustion quickly caught up with you as your eyes squinted against the light, your sudden awakening causing your headache to return tenfold and knock the wind straight out of your lungs. You groaned as you shifted on the narrow medical bed, sheets slipping down to cling around your plump waist as you tried to sit up. You were disorientated, not expecting the sudden change in environment and as you struggled to sit up just a smidge too quickly, you felt a hand weigh heavily on your shoulder. You flinched from the touch, your head snapping in the direction to see who the hand belonged to. You settled a little when you recognised who it was sitting at your bedside.
“Don’t sit up so quickly” Dottore gently reprimanded you, applying pressure to his hand to force you to stop squirming around. “You will make your head spin if you keep thrashing around.”
You blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the little black dots swirling at the edges of your vision. You groaned softly, leaning against the feathery pillow behind you to support your back and sit up a little more properly.
“Where…Where am I?” you asked, voice scratching in your parched throat. “What happened?”
Your head was aching and your eyes were sore. You raised your hands and rubbed at your bleary eyes, the skin feeling puffy as you dabbed your fingers beneath the dry skin. It took you a few seconds to recognise that you didn’t feel the familiar weight of your Fatui mask covering the top half of your face and the realisation made you a little flustered. You think this is the first time you had ever had your mask off in front of a co-worker. You weren’t left to ponder on the thought long, your attention snapping back to Dottore as he leaned forward in his seat, the chair creaking softly in protest. There was a clipboard in his hands with a few pieces of paper, a pen clasped between his fingers as he started to scribble something down.
“You’re in one of the medical wings of my laboratory" Dottore replied. “You fainted on the factory floor and they carried you down here. Do you remember it?”
You dug around in your brain for the memories but they were hazy. When you tried to grasp one, it slipped through your fingers like a thin sheen of mist. You started to shake your head, your tongue wetting your dry lips as you swallowed around the lump in your throat.
“No” you replied, coughing awkwardly as you tried to clear the rasp in your throat. “My memory is a little foggy at the moment.”
A soft noise stirred in the back of Dottore’s throat as he wrote down your response. You didn’t particularly enjoy being scrutinised so closely by the Doctor. He gestured to your bedside table when you coughed again and you reached for the glass of water that had been sitting there patiently until you had awoken once more. It was a small relief when the cold water touched your lips and soothed your parched throat, not realising how thirsty you had been. You think you gulped the entire glass down in about 5 seconds.
“You did not sustain any major injuries in your fall nor did you do any damage to your head” Dottore continued as he flipped through the sheets of paper. “I have been reviewing your medical records from three months ago. The Doctor that examined you wrote notes about your iron deficiency and how low it has gotten in recent years. And considering what has happened today, am I correct in assuming that it hasn’t improved?”
Your shoulders jumped up to your ears at the mention of those records. It was required by the Fatui that members had to go and get health checks performed on a regular basis. It made an uncomfortable knot twist in the pit of your stomach that Dottore had been reading through them. It did make sense, you reasoned. After all, he was a Doctor and he would have access to those kinds of files. It still made you a little uneasy, assuming now he was privy to a lot more private information about you. Especially your physical and mental health conditions. You tried to force a smile onto your lips, only half succeeding as your expression looked strained and he could see the doubt in your eyes. You nodded as an affirmation to his previous question. A soft sigh passed his thin lips.
“You have been overworking yourself and pushing your limits” he concluded. “Tell me, have you been eating properly? What did you have for breakfast this morning?”
Your eyes flitted away as you turned your head, unable to handle the pointed stare you knew he was sending at you from beneath his mask. You idly scratched at your cheeks, heat rising to the soft swell as a nervous sound rattled in your chest.
“Uhhhh…I didn’t actually eat this morning” you mumbled, voice getting quieter with each word that spilled from your mouth.
“What was that?” Dottore asked. “I didn’t quite catch that. Raise your chin and speak up.”
You rolled your eyes a little and you felt a small spark of rebellion ignite in your chest. Hearing that demanding tone of voice reminded you of when your mother used to scold you and it always made you raise your hackles in response. Every hair on the nape of your neck prickled to attention as you jutted your chin out and turned your head to look back at him.
“I said I didn’t eat anything this morning” you repeated with a bit of bite in your tone.
Dottore’s eyebrows raised in amusement. Without your mask on now, he could see your expressions much clearer. He hadn’t realised how expressive your face could be. Especially your eyes. And the longer he stared the more he started to notice the smell flecks of colour in your irises. He doesn’t recall ever seeing such rich and vibrant colours but perhaps it was much more noticeable with how the light reflected in your eyes. Though he did find your tone to be amusing. It was the most he had ever gotten a rise out of you as you were always much too conscious of the difference in rank between you. He preferred it a little more when you were like this; when you didn’t talk to him with a drone in your voice and weren’t afraid to express yourself. That you responded to him like you would with any other person and you treated him with a bit of normalcy. You must have been feeling a little woozy today and it removed that filter you always had between your mouth and your brain before you spoke. He was tickled pink with entertainment. Though, now there was an underlying sense of concern from your response. He didn’t like it. It didn’t sit well with him. And it mildly irked him that he did not like that response.
A soft sigh past his lips. “Well, since that is the case…”
He trailed off as he stood from the chair, beckoning you to follow suit and stand as well. You hesitated for a few brief seconds before untangling yourself from the thin blanket pooling into your lap. You noted your shoes had been taken off but even through your socks you could feel just how cold the floor was beneath your feet when you placed them down. A soft hiss whistled through your teeth but you quickly shut up with your complaining. You didn’t really want to put your heavy boots back on. Your feet always ached after taking them off from wearing them for hours and you refused to put them back on your sore feet right now. You would much rather deal with this discomfort over that.
You took the hand that Dottore offered to you and he helped you to your feet. You wobbled briefly, your head still aching but thankfully not spinning anymore and you trusted yourself enough to be able to walk. You let go of Dottore’s hand, shuffling forward on your feet as you tried to keep up with Dottore’s stride. You didn’t particularly notice that he deliberately slowed down to assess your movements, too focused on not tripping as you made your way over to the large table set up at the other end of the room.
“I had some food sent down from the cafeteria” Dottore explained as you took a seat. “It should still be warm.”
The table had already been set up with plates and utensils, a large lid covering each plate to keep the food nice and warm. The scent that hit your nose made your stomach growl softly as your mouth started to water. You had not eaten anything since late last night and the hunger was hitting you all at once just from the mere whiff. You had manners though and you politely waited until Dottore was seated as well before you even thought about beginning.
“I hope you are not a picky eater” Dottore commented as he removed the lids from the plate.
You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m so hungry I could start chewing the legs off of a table.”
You heard a small snicker behind Dottore’s breath, a faint smile touching his lips as you picked up your knife and fork to start eating. It was obvious that at this point you were most likely starving, so it really was not surprising that you happened to pass out on the factory floor a few hours prior. He was more surprised that it didn’t happen sooner, given your apparent eating habits. Dottore’s thoughts trailed off.
“Do you make it a regular habit to skip meals?” Dottore asked.
You swallowed a mouth full of food before responding. “Kind of. It must be shocking, I know, given my current size and weight.”
It had become such a habit for you to joke about your weight that you barely noticed anymore when you would make jabs and depreciate yourself like that. Dottore refrained from releasing the exasperated sigh that clawed at the back of his throat. One problem at a time.
“That was not what I was commenting on” Dottore interjected. “If I am to help, I will need to become more familiar with your eating habits.”
You knew he was referring to the lack of iron in your blood. It was just a little weird to hear him saying that he wanted to help you. It was strange. You didn’t know if you were quite used to this growing friendship yet, despite all the weeks that had already passed of you getting to know the Doctor. You pocketed your reservations for the moment, much too focused on giving your body the nutrients it desperately craved. The food at the cafeteria wasn’t so bad either. It didn’t taste bland, though their menu was always limited on what you could get as a grunt. But for someone of Harbinger status, that obviously wasn’t so much of an issue.
“I was like this when I was a lot younger too” you mentioned. “I started skipping breakfast more frequently until I barely have it anymore. I might have it once or twice a week. I don’t really eat a proper meal until I get home. I just snack when we have our tea breaks.”
You didn’t notice that Dottore had been staring at you for quite some time now, chin propped in the palm of his hand as his brain continued to churn with each piece of information that you provided to him. He was curious how your body functioned the way it did. How you were skipping so many meals yet you continued to work in an environment such as this and still stand on two feet. You were walking a dangerous line and it was becoming more apparent to him that you probably did not notice the signs of your burnout nor fatigue. Or, more concerningly, you did realise and you chose to ignore it to continue down an unhealthy path of destruction.
“I am assuming other Doctors you visited have already stressed the importance of eating breakfast?” Dottore guessed.
“Affirmative” you replied as you took another bite out of the meat on your plate.
“And are you going to listen if I advise you of this same importance again?”
“Negative.”
This time, Dottore let the exasperated sigh he had been holding back push past his lips with a soft breeze. You really were starting to get a little more than comfortable around him.
“You are not doing yourself any favours” Dottore mentioned as he started to pick at his own food.
You hummed softly as you crossed your legs beneath the table, picking your feet off the cold floor as you idly started to kick them. You had been to so many different doctors throughout your teenage and adult years it could make your head spin. They all offered the same type of advice and you tried your best to listen. You really did. But there was always so much already going on inside your own head that some days, it was a struggle to simply get out of bed. While you appreciated his advice, he may as well be talking to a brick wall at this point. You had been dealing with iron deficiency for a long time and it felt like no matter what you tried, nothing seemed to make it right again.
“I’ve always had low iron” you replied as an offhanded comment. “It also probably doesn’t help that I’m a woman and have heavy per-”
You almost choked as you stopped yourself short. That probably was not an appropriate thing to bring up, especially when you were eating food. It made you feel a little flustered as you coughed behind your closed fist, your long lashes fluttering over the swell of your cheeks as you fought off the heat that tried to creep onto your face. Dottore noticed your sudden pause and it was not hard for him to infer what you were trying to say before you abruptly cut yourself off.
“I did not take you for a prude. I am a practicing Doctor. I am well aware how the menstrual cycle works” Dottore supplied.
Now he was making it sound like you were the stupid one. You were just trying to be polite about it, most men got the ick whenever a hint of a period was ever mentioned. Plus it probably did not make a good lunch conversation, to talk about blood when you were trying to eat. A small huff puffed up your cheeks, the rush of air blowing out of your nose as you jabbed your fork in his direction.
“No need to be a fucking smartass about it.”
As soon as you realised what you had just said, you slapped a hand over your mouth. Your eyes were wide with abject horror as you swallowed a wretched little gasp behind your plump fingers. You had not meant to say that. You had thought it, yes, but you had meant to rearrange the words before you opened your mouth to speak. You did your best not to cuss or swear so casually on the job. Most did not like it when you started swearing like a sailor and it was generally frowned upon, so you were always mindful of it. You had no idea how Dottore was going to react and the eerie silence that flowed between you two drenched your body in a horrible, cold sweat.
“I-I am s-so sorry” you rushed, stumbling over your words as you uncovered your mouth. “I didn’t mean to swear like that.”
A curious noise rumbled in Dottore’s chest. “I understand your concern. But I think there is something that you have failed to realise.”
You blinked owlishly, your heart threatening to jump up into your throat as you prepared yourself to get a scolding of a lifetime. “Y-Yeah?”
“I do not give a fuck about your penchant for cussing.”
A snort suddenly ripped through your chest before you burst out into full blown laughter. It was not the response you had been expecting, yet you could not contain your delight. You had never heard him swear before and you could not contain your giggles at having heard the word slip from his mouth. Such a word sounded foreign on his lips yet he had said it with such practiced ease that you knew he had said it before. The thought caused you to laugh harder. Now you were wondering what kind of situation would cause Il Dottore to swear like that.
You did not realise your laughter was having an effect on Dottore. It was such a bright sound, your smile full of teeth and tears of glee pricking at the corner of your eyes as you almost doubled over from how hard your laughter was making your shoulders shake. He was sure he had heard you snort too somewhere between your giggles and it only caused you to laugh harder as a result. It was a pleasant sound to his ears and he did not entirely hate it, despite how loud it echoed in the room. It took a moment for your chuckles to start to die down, your smile still planted on your face as you looked at him with mirthful eyes. He decided to speak up again.
“Besides” he added. “I am sure you cannot be worse than the Regrator when the nicotine cravings start to flare up.”
You giggled softly, relaxing a little more in Dottore’s company after your fit of laughter started to subside. You had not laughed like that in a long, long time. You were starting to like the Doctor more and more now, so much that you may actually be a little more inclined now to listen to his advice. But, perhaps another day. You would have to recover from today’s events first.