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You had woken up with a sudden jolt. Sweat coated your body and you were stuck still, the room seeming to rock around your bed. Your aching bones seemed to be glued to your thin mattress and you forced your hands on it and pushed yourself up. A lurch grabbed onto you and held onto your intestines through your skin. You held onto your stomach and leaned forward, trying not to vomit over your thin sheets. It was cold, the vent above you blowing cold air onto your already slick, sweaty skin. It was violently hot too, though, and your sheets boiled your legs and just the feeling of linen against your skin hurt. You groaned. Vomit threatened to breach your throat and you swallowed it down. Someone came into mind, and you had to see him.
"Medic," You croaked, pushing yourself out of bed. You wobbled a little gaining balance before standing up straight and forcing yourself to the door. You opened it and squinted at the dim light of the hallway, yellow lights buzzed above you and you had a moment of pause. Soldier insisted the lights in the hall always stay on, with much protest from every other team member, who would rather not deal with the headache.
Making your way to Medic's lab, your bare feet padded against the dirty tile door as you practically dragged yourself towards his room. He might be awake right now, experimenting, he might be doing anything right now, but the thought didn't even cross your mind. Your fever induced haze made it hard to think, and you wheezed as if you had just ran a mile. Quietly as you could, you passed the other Merc's dorms, hearing soft music coming from Spy's smoking room. You considered knocking, maybe he could help you instead, just because you didn't want to walk all the way to Medic's lab. You decided against it, he might make fun of you, you figured. He’s French, what else can he do?
Hobbling a bit past Spy’s door, you finally reach the large two metal doors that lead to Medic’s lab. There was a soft light peeking out from under the crack between the door and the floor. You sighed with relief as you put your hand on the door to push it open, only for it to not budge a bit.
“Medic, Doc, please help, I think I’m sick,” You called, voice raspy and weak. You heard shuffling from within, but other than that, nothing. “Medic, I’m gonna throw up” You groaned, putting your hand on your stomach. “Plea-” You were cut off by the sudden rush of bile coming up to your mouth and onto the floor. You wretched and gagged, fighting the urge to throw up again after doing it already. Your breath was haggard and you slumped a little, feeling embarrassed and shamed. The door clicked and swung open, and you looked up to Medic who had a very confusing expression knitted onto his face.
“Mein gott,” He called, bending down (avoiding your vomit) and helping you up. “I zought you vere a spy,” he admitted, letting you lean on his shoulder. He smelled of mint and hand sanitizer. It wasn’t all too bad, and you leaned into his white coat as he lifted you a little onto a cot. You watched as he grabbed paper towels from a table and wiped up your mess a little, quick and efficient. Tossing the towels out and changing his gloves, he held the back of his palm to your forehead. “Ach, fever.” He mused, whistling as he dug through a drawer. “Ah, here ve go. Medicine for you, ja?” He mimicked opening his mouth and you did so, and he plopped the medicine in your mouth and held up a glass of water. You gladly swallowed, grimacing at the sour taste in your mouth.
You recalled earlier today, when Scout coughed, insisting that he didn’t need to cover his mouth, because “‘S a freakin’ conspiracy!” Whatever that means. Scout was an idiot, and he was the one who got you sick. Go figure. You watched Medic look at you with a certain familiarity.
A smirk crept up to your lips. “Still think I’m a spy, Doc?” He scoffed, his black boots clacking on the floor stained with dark blood. “Nein, of course not.” He turned to you, his brows furrowed with worry. “I must apologize for not opening the door sooner, mein vorry gets ahead of me sometimes.” He whispered. You smiled a little at his words, but a wave of dizziness overtook you and sweat piled on your forehead.
“S’a,” You muttered, “S’ok.” You put your hand behind you on the cot to hold yourself up as the room lightly spun around you. Medic rose from his chair and took your cheek in his palm. “I hate seeing you in pain, mein Schatz.” His red gloved hands caressed your cheek lightly, and he thumbed your lip a little. The burn of your fever went through the rubber of his glove and he sighed, looking at your face. You were tired, it was late, and the Medic had his hands on your face. His expression confused you too, his eyes were a little wide as they studied your features, his lips slightly parted. Stubble coated his jaw and face, and you could smell his breath from how close he was. Coffee. You sort of welcomed it, it’s not like it was bad.
You took into account Medic’s behavior. Maybe he always acted like this, you were just hyper aware because of your sickness and you were able to realize it better, maybe he was extra worried. You tried to read his face but it was near impossible. Gently, it hit you. He snuck looks at you in battle, overhealed you when you had taken a few light hits, sometimes favoring you over the Heavy. Which was odd, considering their success together on the battlefield. After battle, he’d check in on you first, making sure you were okay, if you needed the medigun, or anything at all. You’d always say, every time, “No doc, I’m quite alright.” And he’d smile and go back to his business.
But now it was different. Here you were, sick and loopy out of your mind, and you were sitting on one of Medic’s cots, looking at him as he cupped your face, like you were his lover. The thought heated your cheeks, but it was weird. You, a man, sitting in Medic’s, another man, lab, alone, and he cupped your face like you were his lover. Part of you wanted to lean in and kiss him but it felt too weird, he’d push you away, not like you hadn’t just realized he might have feelings for you anyway. It was weird. It was too weird.
“Zhe medicine schould be kicking in soon, once it does you can go back to bed.” He said, snapping you out of your thoughts as he let your face go. He turned and as his back faced you, you noticed he rubbed his face a little and let out a sigh. “Doc?” You asked, surprised at the neediness in your voice. He turned suddenly and looked at you. You were exhausted and sick, and the blinding lights of his lab hurt your head. But something compelled you to stay. You paused for a long while.
“Ja?” He asked, trying to get you to continue. You hummed a little with exhaustion. “I don’t...wanna leave. I wanna stay here with you.” Your voice was low and tired, and you slumped to the side a little, almost completely falling if it weren’t for Medic’s hand on your hip, holding you up. He looked at you. “You vant to stay?” He asked, voice hushed and soft. You nodded and he brushed a stray hair off your face, pushing it back like you always styled it. He nodded along with you. “You can stay, but only if you rest. We have ein battle tomorrow, und I can’t just let you not fight, ja?” His hand didn’t leave your side, but his other came up to cup your face again, more lovingly this time.
You couldn’t help it. You leaned in and smacked your lips, dry and cracked, against his (slightly parted, so your teeth clacked with his,) surprisingly soft lips. He laughed into your mouth a bit and his hand slid from your hip to your back and from your cheek to your neck. He leaned in more, his chair squeaking and the cot groaning from the extra weight. Your head swam, and the heat of his lips transferred to your cheeks, lighting up your blush and making your fever induced haze even worse. He pulled away and gasped in surprise when you slumped against him, giggling a little.
“Sorry Doc, I’m really sick.” You leaned your head on his shoulder and pulled him closer. His chair rolled on its wheels and allowed you to easily haul him closer. Not like he wouldn’t have pushed you anyway. He smiled and leaned his head against yours. “I know you are, schatz.” He wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist for extra support as he carried you to the back of his lab, pushing open the door to his personal quarters with his back.
Medic’s room was warmer and smelt more like a room than a lab. Clean laundry, and a little bit musky, but you breathed it in and welcomed it. It smelt like Medic. He plopped you down on his bed and you leaned back, looking up at him with lidded eyes. He smiled down on you, lifting his blankets and folding them on top of you, keeping quiet. He turned to walk away but you reached out for him, barely missing his coat with the tips of your fingers. “No-” You called, falling into a small coughing fit. He turned and bent down at your side. “Ach, I’m here, I’m here, der Liebling, I’m not leaving you, der Schätzchen, I’m here.” His little pet names calmed you, even if you didn’t understand what they meant. You smiled and hugged him by his neck, sort of pulling him on top of you, he willingly went, laughing at how weak you were.
“Mmph,” You muttered a bit, adjusting yourself under him. He turned to the side, kicking off his boots and loosening his tie. He settled next to you again, and you hugged onto his arm. It might’ve been purely because you didn’t know what you were doing entirely, but he planted a kiss on your burning forehead and you moved closer to him. He laid still, making his breathing slow so you could rest easy against his chest. For a moment, he thought you had actually died, but the rise and fall of your chest made him sigh. You had fallen asleep with him, in his bed, in the dark. He put his head back on the pillow and a soft laugh escaped his lips. “Finally.” He whispered.
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By the time you had woken up, your fever had dissipated, leaving you with a solid aching feeling in a lot of your muscles. You stretched in your bed, but paused as you felt a warm body next to you. Medic, glasses off, laid next to you, asleep. And you realized that his arm was wrapped around your waist, preventing you from stretching entirely. You panicked a little, but eased as you remembered the night before. Well, you remembered most of it. You surely didn’t remember Medic picking you up and carrying to his bed.
You had never seen Medic asleep before, and the wrinkles on his face seemed to be nonexistent as he lay there next to you, his face close to yours. He exhaled through his nose and inhaled through his mouth, making a soft snoring noise. You smiled and kept watching him, until his eyes slowly opened after a while. The two of you locked eyes and he raised his hand to cup your cheek, but this time he was gloveless. You leaned into the warmth of his palm, and he smiled at you. “Feel better, lieb?” You nodded and leaned into him.
“Definitely.”