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Above all else, do no harm. Medic, despite his neurotic tendencies and sadistic insights, is a doctor at heart. The profession wasn't sought-out, he didn't spend years studying to do this, as many expected, but in the end this is what he is meant to do. Doctors help people, and, in his own way, Medic only wants to help and heal those close to him - in whatever ways he can. Does his weird experiments and dubious morals make him a bad person? Maybe, but it does not make him a bad doctor.
He'll admit, as he puts on a pair of red latex gloves, that he doesn't really meddle too much in his teammates medical files and documents, it's not really his business. He's their team healer, but he also acknowledges that these papers are personal, and most patients aren't as close to their doctor as they were with him, though he notes that their case is a unique one. This leaves him, more often than not, with rather unorthodox methods and check-ups, dancing on a thin line of attempting to respect his fellows privacy and indulging in reading more about them out of curiosity. Medic knows Pyro's name, he knows that Spy's family has a history of cancer, he knows that Engineer has two older brothers - but he doesn't really plan on doing anything with this information, other than keeping his eyes on his friends. He's the only one with the authority to even access this information, in the first place.
It's with this wonderful permission that he found out that Scout has not one, not two, but eight brothers, all older than him. And, Medic muses, he supposes that a lot of things about the fast-paced boy make a lot of sense in hindsight with that knowledge. It's obvious to anyone on the team that Scout has some form of complex being the runt of the litter, he makes up for his age and lacking physical abilities by running and shouting and generally just being a nuisance. Granted, Medic can understand why, he's lanky and skinny with little muscle, which usually doesn't do anyone any good in a profession such as this, yet the boy uses his physique to his advantage. It's admirable, to a degree.
But the runt of the litter time and time again proves that he doesn’t really know how to take care of himself - outside of crushing skulls and jumping up the walls, Scout’s rather clueless about most things. He’s a good baseball player and has a surprisingly smooth singing voice, but these factors make little difference if the kid can’t properly clean or cook. Which is precisely why Medic has decided, for the good of everyone, to have a talk with the boy.
He glances at his notes, constructed of thoughts and muses he’s made over the recent months, while Scout sits patiently on the medical bed next to him, one leg bouncing up and down as he looks around curiously at the scalpels and syringes. Scout rarely goes to check-ups, mostly out of a lack of interest and because he thinks he’s feeling fine enough not to, but he’s not dumb enough to believe that he can get out of a specifically requested meeting with the doctor. He’s lucky the German lets him off the hook as much as he has. He’s not mad or irritated about it, though, Medic notices that Scout seems almost happy to see him, like this was just like any old friends meeting up for coffee. The thought makes him sneer.
“Sooo… anything new with you?” Scout tries, grinning through his buckteeth as his legs shift from bouncing to swinging lazily. The doctor doesn’t reply, deeming the question too irrelevant for him to even give an answer to - nothing new ever happens around here.
“Scout, do you know why I called you in today?” Medic says finally, sitting down in his office chair, hands clasped together. His tone is not nearly as serious as it could’ve been, but he supposes that seriousness almost never works with Scout. He pushes up his glasses, feeling a little too much like a principal speaking to a teenager.
“Eh, not really,” the younger man shrugs, a sudden gut-wringing sense of worry seeping into his bloodstream and spreading throughout his entire body. “Figured I did something wrong again.”
“Not per se,” Medic says slowly, the implication that Scout did do something still hangs in the air. “I wanted to discuss your… habits.”
“My habits? What kinda habits?”
“Your eating habits, specifically.”
“Oh.”
The look on the runners face makes Medic suspect that this is a conversation he’s had before, his entire demeanour changes and shifts into something Medic can’t recognise nor place. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, and furrowed brows on Scout’s face. He’ll admit, this is a territory that they rarely ever stepped into with anyone on the team, they all had quirks and tics, everyone has their thing. But Medic also refuses to accept Scout hurting himself in the long run, whether it be intentional or not. Scout fidgets, his legs still.
“I dunno what you want to talk about,” he mumbles after a while, looking down at his hands and fiddling with his bandages - a whole other conversation, entirely. “I eat just fine.”
Medic chuckles, the sound is creaky in the calm soft quiet of the medical room. Scout stares.
“No, no, Junge, you don’t,” he says, still with a biting smile on his face that Scout has the sudden urge to knock right off with a fist. Medic doesn’t falter, but he does compose himself and clear his throat. “You’re skinny as a twig, don’t tell me you haven’t known.”
“Of course, I have! I just run a lot, I burn a lotta energy,” Scout says defensively, not enjoying where this was going but for some reason finds no ground to leave. “You should know that, you’re a doctor.”
“Of course, I know,” Medic says calmly, a strange and unfamiliar gentleness in his voice. Scout doesn’t enjoy being treated as younger for many reasons, but now he finds that this is one of the rare moments where he doesn’t mind it. “But it’s not healthy, Scout.”
“Whatever,” he sinks, deflated on the medical bed.
“If you don’t start taking better care of yourself I will put you on a strict meal plan, Junge.”
“Fine,” Scout states, the usual bite not present. Medic hums, deciding that a warning will suffice for today.
“You know you can talk to me if something is troubling you, Scout. It’s my job.”
“Ew. Don’t make this gay, doc.”