Work Text:
“You sure this thing ain’t gonna douse me in radioactive gunk? I’m still young, y’know!”
Blue can’t help but chuckle, even with their face buried in a clipboard. “I promise you, Lime,” they say, keeping their back turned, “your youth is well-protected in here.”
It’s been enough of a struggle getting everyone scanned thus far, and while it doesn’t necessarily bother them, there needn’t be any more roadbumps. Each moment delayed is extra time for the killer among them to target their next victim. There’s no telling when and where they’ll strike.
Even after years of study and practical training, Blue has never encountered a situation like this. Sure, there have been many eventful missions, near-death experiences included, but those were rarely ever a mystery. They always ended up having an explanation; something written in a textbook or on the web.
White’s body sits cold in the corner, and the words pink and residue are starting to drive Blue insane. They may end up resenting their boss by the end of this which, for someone like them, is beyond rare.
“Doc,” Lime calls out from across the room. “Am I done yet? Vent’s lookin’ real safe right now.”
Huh. Blue stops writing. In most cases, the scan takes about five seconds; ten for more genetically dense patients. They check the mounted clock, then cast Lime a glance. Double huh. Considering their build — and sheer eagerness to escape — they should have been set to scurry off twenty seconds ago.
“Let me take a look,” Blue offers, crossing the floor. “There might be a problem with the machine. It’s rarely used this many times in one day.”
Lime’s eyebrows furrow but they comply, arms crossing over their chest with a reluctant slouch. Now that Blue’s looking them over, they realise they’ve never taken note of Lime’s physical definition. Out of their very few written bits and pieces, there’s nothing describing their body’s exact proportions.
This dawns on Blue alongside something they assume to be embarrassment, and they feel their face getting a little warm, which ultimately confuses them. They know there’s nothing embarrassing when it comes to learning about a patient, but they’re unsure what else could be causing such a physiological reaction.
Oh goodness. How unprofessional. Blue shakes their head before they stop in front of Lime, using their own eyes to scan them as they try to focus on the issue at hand.
“Ah,” they exclaim, jotting something down without looking. “I see what it is.”
“The machine’s broken?” Lime makes a noise akin to a dismissive pfft. “S’that mean I can get off it now? I mean, ya need’a fix it, right—?”
“Oh, no,” Blue interrupts them, despite really not wanting to. “It’s having trouble because you’re leaning outside of the radius.”
Lime’s head tilts. “Radius?” they parrot.
With a gentle stamp of their foot, Blue pauses the scan, causing it to freeze in place. “See the hologram?” They smile softly when Lime looks over and nods. “Your body needs to stay within the circle. Usually there are multiple scanners for different body types, but for shorter trips like this, we’re confined to just the one.”
Lime nods again, though they admittedly look a bit lost. “So how’re ya gonna scan me?”
“Luckily, I believe you’ll still fit, we just need to correct your posture,” Blue explains, straightening their own back to provide a dramatised demonstration. “You mustn’t stand very much in the ventilation system, which is understandable.”
“Never,” Lime admits, shrugging, and Blue once again catches themself looking for far too long.
Boundaries, their brain reminds them, which the rest of them dutifully ignores. Ethics. Morals. Anything!
A cough. “Uh, Doc?” Lime’s head is tilted again, hands on their hips now. They seem concerned, which is the last thing a patient should be. “You okay?”
“Absolutely,” Blue breathes out, though they mustn’t be painting the calmest picture judging from Lime’s face. “Just peachy. Forgot to write any of this down, that’s all. I won’t be a moment.”
When they turn away, Lime doesn’t question it, and Blue doesn’t have the capacity to question that, which is out of the ordinary too, and oh goodness—
Look, it isn’t unlike Blue to employ a certain suaveness on occasion. They’re well aware of their own tactics, and how those same tactics led to Lime agreeing in the first place. What they’re not aware of is what to do in the opposite position. They’re often used to paving a road of empathetic and professional patient care, tailored to each individual’s needs, so this case is particularly difficult to navigate.
Even still, they suppose there’s no time to dwell. The only way over is up, even when their own posture is seeming poorer than Lime’s. After pretending to transfer their brain onto the paper, Blue clips their pen to the board and turns back around with what they hope is a genuine expression.
“All done,” they lie, which cuts into their soul just a tad. Minus one, moral code. “I’ll adjust you accordingly, and then you’ll be free to go.”
There’s no verbal answer from Lime, but they relax their arms and stand still. Blue places their clipboard down on a nearby equipment trolley before stepping up to join Lime on the scanning pad. This model isn’t built to hold the weight of two crewmates, but they’ll make an exception in this case considering the circumstances. It’s unlikely to cause an issue in such a short amount of time.
With a gentle hand, Blue braces their palm on Lime’s back, feeling the warmth of their skin through the layers of worn fabric. If they focused, they’d likely be able to feel a faint pulse from this area, but they shake the thought soon enough.
Trying their absolute hardest to maintain appropriate distance, they then reach over for Lime’s shoulder with their other hand. The direct contact reminds Blue that they forgot to put their gloves on, and they once again feel the rush of blood in their own face. The muscle under their fingertips is firm, taut, and warm to the touch. A combo fit for a clean bill of health, but not for Blue’s self-preservation.
They hazard a look at Lime’s face. They’ve been silent for a solid minute now, which is uncharacteristic according to Blue’s previous interactions with them. “You’re quite warm,” Blue notes, trying to gauge their current feelings.
The posture problem is solved, but Blue’s curiosity problem most certainly isn’t.
Lime turns their head slightly, just enough for half of their face to be visible. Very red indeed. “Is that… bad?”
“Well, there are many explanations, all of which I’m sure are entirely appropriate,” Blue goes on, trying not to hesitate even as they keep their hands in place. “Perhaps a general check up is in order.”
It’s more of a test than an actual suggestion: they’re preparing a response to some variation of is that really necessary? To their surprise, however, that’s not what Lime says at all.
“Well— fine.” A huff, more flustered than resigned. “Just make it quick. I got friends waitin’ under the floor.”
“I understand.” Blue relaxes their hands, allowing them both to step off of the scanner. Distantly, they miss the feeling, but choose not to ponder on it. “I’ll make sure you can get back to them in no time.”
They meet Lime’s eyes for the first time in a while, and the soft, “Thanks, Doc,” might just kill them before the alleged murderer. Be that as it may, Blue can’t find it in themself to complain, unhooking their stethoscope with a closed smile they can't suppress.