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Medic paced down the hall that housed the team’s bedrooms while on his monthly restock of medical supplies. The dorm area was relatively sparse of residence considering that Engineer, Sniper, Spy and Medic had bedrooms dispersed around other areas of the base. And after Heavy moved out to stay with Medic in his room attached to the infirmary, that left only four residents remaining in the dorm area. But, these four tended to be the most danger prone of the team so the medical restock was certainly still needed.
Medic was stopped in his tracks when he heard a muffled cry from somewhere in the hall. He looked around, racking his brain for who would be in their room right now. Demo and Soldier had left not that long ago, bidding farewell to Medic as he was restocking the med kit by the front door. They had proudly proclaimed that they were off to pester Sniper into bringing them along on his weekly hunting trip, an unlikely outcome in Medic’s opinion, and when they returned they’d have finally settled the debate about who could hunt more game with explosives alone.
As for Pyro, they were in Spy’s smoking room. Medic had spotted them while he was checking Spy’s medical supply stock, as always it was untouched and dusty, but Medic prided himself on being a meticulously thorough man. Pyro was balled up on Spy’s finely upholstered settee; their head laid in Spy’s lap as they gazed into the lit fireplace. Spy was reading one of his imported French magazines, a hand rubbing Pyro’s back soothingly.
Years ago Spy had reluctantly conceded that he would rather share his space with Pyro so they could enjoy the sight of fire safely than have the whole base burn down. However, since then Spy had become accustomed to Pyro’s silent company and now welcomed the firebug’s presence with open arms.
So, that only left Scout. Medic walked to the boy’s door and put his ear up to it. Inside he could hear soft sobbing that he never would’ve noticed if that initial loud, hiccupping cry hadn’t given the runner away.
“Hase?” Medic asked just loud enough to be heard through the door, knocking as he did. He chose to call Scout by his collective team nickname in hopes of sounding friendly and approachable, that being rabbit. Well, rabbit in whatever language or slang that comes from that particular teammate’s culture. However to Medic’s dismay the sobs only seemed to grow louder and more distressed.
“Aah you okay in zere, mine freund?” Medic pushed again, growing antsy at his teammate’s sorrow. “Scout, if you do not anszah me I’m going to come in zeah!” Medic stated, stuffing his medical supplies under his arm so he could properly grip the door knob.
After waiting a moment with no reply but more sobs from the other side of the door Medic turned the handle and barged inside. Scout’s room was messy and cluttered like always with empty Bonk! cans laying around, dirty clothes everywhere but the hamper, sheets of drawing paper and pencils scattered on every surface and weapons laying around, likely without the safety on. Medic fought the urge to sigh, lecture or clean, instead opting to focus on the more pressing matter at hand.
Scout sat on the edge of his unmade bed, head in his hands and shoulders shaking as he cried. Medic rushed to his side, placing his medical supplies on the floor as he sat beside Scout on the bed.
“Hase! Talk to me vat is vrong, aah you hurt?!” Medic questioned, laying a hand on Scout’s shoulder, shaking him just slightly to try and get his attention. At first Scout didn’t reply, making Medic’s anxiety sky rocket. But, just as Medic was debating on if he should scoop Scout up and rush him to the infirmary, the boy lunged forward and squeezed Medic in a tight hug. He buried his face somewhere between Medic’s neck and shoulder, fresh sobs muffled by the thick material of Medic’s lab coat.
Medic was shocked but decided to give Scout the comfort that he sought. He folded his arms around Scout, pulling him further into an embrace. “Please, junge, at least tell me if you aah vounded.” Medic pleaded, holding Scout tightly. To Medic’s relief Scout shook his head against the doctor’s shoulder. With the urgent layer of worry that Scout was hurt melted off, Medic pulled Scout closer and into his lap. He rubbed the sobbing boy’s back, hushing him softly. He pressed a light kiss to Scout’s temple in hopes to sooth him as he waited for Scout to cry until he no longer had tears to shed.
“Vatevah is vrong I’m sure it vill be alright,” Medic said gently, cradling the back of Scout’s neck.
“No it won’t!” Scout snapped, pushing himself away from Medic’s chest, “I’ll just end up messin’ everthin’ up like always!” Scout cried before collapsing into a new wave of tears, dropping the usual walls of false cocky self confidence in the face of his strong emotions.
“Vat in ze vorld aah you talking about, Hase?” Medic asked, unfazed by the runner’s outburst. He pulled Scout back into his arms with little resistance, the boy having relapsed into sobs after his outcry. “Vill you just explain to me vat is vrong,” Medic pleaded.
Scout stayed silent for a moment, trying to slow his sobs for long enough to properly reply. He debated for a moment if he could confide in Medic, finally replying after he managed to calm himself aside from the occasional sniffle or hiccupping breath.
“… Promise dat you won’t laugh at me?” Scout asked meekly against Medic’s shoulder.
“Of course not! Clearly if somezing has gotten you zis riled up it is no laughing mattah,” Medic reassured. Scout huffed a long and weary sigh, still on the fence.
“Okay.” He said as though verbalizing the confirmation would make it more true. “…okay,” he repeated. This time it was softer and more sincere, with more conviction behind it.
While he still had the nerve Scout peeled himself away from Medic’s soothing hold and leaned over to grab something from under his pillow. Scout’s breath hitched in an attempt to ward off a fresh wave of sobs from just seeing the object. He presented it to Medic in his cupped hands, averting his eyes, glossy with unshed tears. His bucked teeth bit his lower lip in a fruitless bid to keep it from trembling.
In Scout’s taped hands rested a worn and rather beat up looking rabbit plush. It was a dingy tan color that spoke to years of love and attention. One of its button eyes hung loose from its face, connected only by a few frayed threads, its fur pilled into an uneven texture. One of its side seams was blown out and weeping cotton stuffing, its mostly severed arm laying beside it. The last few tendons of fabric connecting the limb were strained and warned of giving out.
Medic was not surprised at the revelation that Scout kept a stuffed toy, especially considering he had seen it around base on a sparse few occasions. One such case was when Demo had drunkenly pulled the fire alarm, causing everyone to evacuate the base in the middle of the night. Living with a pyromaniac and several explosive obsessives meant that all fire alarms were taken seriously. Medic had spotted the little bunny that night, pressed against Scout’s chest while the boy was tucked against his father’s side, trying to hide from the biting cold of the New Mexican night.
Another instance came from whenever the team had to huddle together in the most secure part of the base to weather any kind of natural disaster or rough storm. The little rabbit was always tucked under Scout’s arm as he waited for whatever storm to pass, cuddled in a big pile with the rest of his teammates.
And perhaps most notably would be the times that Scout had brought the toy with him for surgeries, likely to soothe his nerves. Of course Medic had noticed, his infirmary was no stranger to plush patients as Pyro had brought many with him to her check ups and surgeries. However, Medic chose to turn a blind eye, taking Scout’s valiant efforts to keep the bunny out of the doctor’s view as a hint that the runner wouldn’t enjoy playing pretend check up with his toy the way Pyro did.
“Oh dear,” Medic said softly, scooping up the bunny to inspect for any further damage.
“I donno what happened, I just picked him up an ‘e fella’ part,” Scout explained, tears still choking his speech. “An’ now he’s all busted up an’ I donno how to fix ‘im,” Scout sobbed, his emotions rising again, “he’s all I got from my pa.”
Scout had a complicated relationship with the idea of his father. After the revelation during the robot wars Scout had come to accept Spy as his father, calling him “pa” and spending more time with him now that Spy no longer had to hide his intentions. But for all of the healing and growing Scout had done he was never truly able to reconcile Spy with the made up father he’d formed in his brain over the past two decades. Medic suspected that was the true reason Scout was so wound up about his soft toy. Even though he had reconnected with his true father, lived with him, worked with him, hugged him everyday, heard from the man’s own mouth that he loved him and always had, something in Scout still wanted to hold onto the fictional Boston man that had been his father in his fantasies. The one he had thought had given him the rabbit as a newborn.
Medic hummed softly as he turned the plush toy around in his hands, ultimately deciding against pushing Scout to open up about his deep seated feelings since the boy was already in such a poor state. ‘Perhaps I could talk him into doing a zerapy session vith me,’ Medic mused to himself. He couldn’t help but smile amusedly to himself, knowing full well that Scout would never do that willingly, in fact it was a miracle that he’d shared as much as he had.
“Vell, Hase, his injuries do not seem zat severe. So, if you vould like, I could stitch him back togezzah for you.” Medic offered softly.
“Wait, yah can do dat?” Scout sniffled hopefully, wiping his tears on the back of his wrapped hands, the bandages already thoroughly soaked.
“Vhy, of course!” Medic beamed, “I stitch zings up all ze time. If I can suture you back togezzah, mine Hase, I do not see vhy I can not do ze same for your hase as vell.”
A small smile finally found its way across Scout’s face at the news, “I’d really ‘preciate dat, Doc.”
Medic returned Scout’s weak smile with an encouraging one of his own. He handed the rabbit back over to Scout before bending down to rifle through the medical supplies he’d brought in with him for his long forgotten duty of restocking. When he turned back to Scout he had a needle and thread in hand.
Although they were intended for human flesh, Medic knew from experience that it worked just as well for plush patients. He’d spent many evenings mending Pyro’s Ballonicorn after it incurred a plethora of burn holes and axe gashes. Many of which Medic suspected Pyro of doing on purpose just so she could watch with glee as Medic treated his plushie.
Medic took the toy back after threading the needle and began the painstaking process of mending. Scout laid his head on Medic’s shoulder as he worked. At first anxiously watching to make sure Medic didn’t mar his sentimental item anymore then it already was. But the longer he watched Medic work the further he relaxed, assured that his bunny was in good hands. Eventually Scout nodded off, thoroughly exhausted by all the crying he’d been doing and comforted by Medic’s presence.
By the time half an hour had passed Medic was done, muttering a soft, “anozah successful proceduah,” to himself triumphantly. All of the rabbit’s internals were back where they belonged, supplemented with cotton swabs from the supply bin, almost like a blood transfusion. The bunny’s arm was reconnected and all of its stitches were reinforced with stronger medical thread to avoid such an accident from happening again. Medic had even reinforced the threads holding onto the rabbit’s droopy eye, choosing not to fix it entirely as the plush had been like that the previous times Medic had seen it. He certainly didn’t want to upset the boy further by erasing a part of the toy’s personality.
Gently, Medic roused the boy sleeping beside him. He woke slowly, blinking his puffy eyes.
“Hov did I do?” Medic asked softly, presenting the newly fixed stuffed animal to the runner. Scout straightened up immediately upon seeing his rabbit. He took the toy into his hands, turning it over gingerly. Medic felt his stomach drop when he saw tears start to gather in Scout's eyes again, terrified that he made things worse.
That fear was soon dispelled however when Scout lunged forward again, squeezing Medic as hard as he could.
“He looks good as new! I can’t believe it! Yah really are’a miracle worker, Doc!” Scout exclaimed cheerfully, finally regaining some of his usual energetic excitement.
“Hoo hoo, I am so relieved to hear zat, junge.” Medic giggled as he returned Scout’s hug. Scout held up his stuffed animal, gazing at it from over Medic’s shoulder, to admire the doctor’s handiwork.
“Man, dank you so much, Doc, for real. It really felt like it was dah end of dah world for a second dere.” Scout muttered against his shoulder, a wave of exhaustion rushing back over him as soon as the excitement started to waver.
“But of course, mine Hase, it is my job to heal you not just on ze outside but on ze inside as vell.” Medic chuckled as a comfortable silence fell over the pair. Scout could feel his eyes drooping in the lull in conversation, being soothed by Medic’s warmth and the hand rubbing circles on his back.
“Hey, Doc?” Scout called just above a whisper.
“Ja?”
“Will yah stay wit me for a bit?” Scout asked meekly, not ready to part from Medic’s comforting hold, but unable to stay awake for much longer.
“It’d be my pleasure, mine freund.” At the confirmation, Scout finally let go of the doctor, letting himself fall back onto his bed, expecting Medic to follow. Medic chuckled a little as he shucked off his boots, hoping to keep from dirtying Scout’s bed any more than it already was. Eventually, Medic shuffled in to lay beside Scout after shedding and folding his overcoat and gloves. Scout quickly returned to Medic’s embrace, hugging his newly fixed bunny close to his chest, unable to get a smile off his face.
Medic returned the embrace, holding Scout closely. The room fell silent once again, occupied only by soft breathing and the rickety squeaks of Scout’s rather precarious ceiling fan. He’d been meaning to ask Engi to fix it for the past few months but kept putting it off knowing that the Texan would give him a proper scolding for the state of his room.
After a long moment Scout spoke up, unable to keep his mouth shut for too long, mostly unconscious or not.
“Have yah evah wanted tah be’a dad, Doc?” He asked quietly. The question shocked Medic slightly, making him pause in his fidgeting of scraping dried blood from his usually covered finger nails. He considered the question seriously for a moment.
“I’m not sure,” he replied honestly, “I nevah thought zat I’d find a partner I’d vant to have a child viz. But, now zat I have Heavy I suppose zat isn’t a problem anymoah,” Medic mused, “alzough, nov I zink I may be too old to be having kinder.” Medic concluded with a light hearted chuckle.
The room fell silent again in the wake of Scout’s lack of response. Medic assumed the boy had fallen asleep in the time it had taken for him to voice his answer. But, to his surprise Scout spoke up again, albeit in nothing but a groggy murmur.
“…Well… I tink dat you’d make for’a pretty dang good one”
For the first time that evening Medic felt himself grow teary eyed as he pulled the now snoring boy closer to his chest, pressing a light kiss to his hair.
“Dankeschön, mine Hase.”
