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tesla-fists · 10 years ago

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Schau in mein Gesicht

Ulyana wakes at midnight when Gavin enters the Medbay. She looks around dazedly, getting her bearings, looking for the broad sweep of shoulders in a lab coat. Charlie appears instead, holding pills and a glass of orange juice. “Drink,” she orders gently, and Ulyana downs the juice and pills and sleeps long and hard.

Sun filters in through the shades when she wakes again. The Medbay is quiet, the Medic nowhere to be seen. Ulyana cranes her head and pain shoots through her neck. She falls back to the pillows with a hiss. Tim stirs in his sleep, moaning softly.

“It’s alright,” she whispers over. “You’re alright, I’m right here.”

The Scout shifts on his side, face relaxing once more in sleep. Ulyana glances around the room. Amelia is still unconscious, Catty adjusts her blankets. She wonders where the Medic is.

The reinforced double doors swing open, casting a long shadow across the floor. Ulyana closes her eyes quickly, feigning sleep.

Otto looks over the room. The chairs are still there in the center. The room is dim and quiet. Everyone appears to be asleep. Catty is sitting by Amelia’s bed, a book propped open against the side of the gurney, reading it aloud under her breath.

Otto goes first to the tray at the center of the room. He plucks a scalpel from the row of tools and turns it over in his hand. The glinting steel is cool and smooth. He puts it into his breast pocket and pockets the dark brown bottle.

His glasses are still on the counter by the sink. He puts them on and the room instantly comes into sharper focus. Otto pauses at the side of Amelia’s cot. Catty looks up from her book.

“Tell me when she wakes up,” Otto says. A request, not an order. His voice sounds small, echoing in the silent Medbay. “I’ll be over here with the others.”

The Medic wheels his office chair to the space between his teammate’s beds, the wheels scraping quietly across the tiles. The Scout is curled on his side. There are deep circles beneath the boy’s eyes, but he appears to be sleeping soundly.

Otto takes a seat, turning to the Heavy. She looks comfortable, asleep under the heavy blanket, her chest rising and falling steadily. The dressing on her neck is fresh. Bauer must have done that while he was...occupied with Gavin. Her face is still so pale.

Otto sighs deeply, taking her hand. He leans on the edge of her cot, closing his eyes for just a moment.

The Medic’s hand is cool in her own, Ulyana squeezes his fingers lightly. Otto blinks awake at the touch as the Heavy raises his hand to her lips, kissing the edge of his knuckles.

“You’re safe,” she says, voice raspy and soft.

Otto looks up, and a wave of relief washes over him. He reaches up to smooth her hair behind her ear, pausing to caress her cheek.

“Of course I am,” Otto says warmly. “I wouldn’t leave you.” The Heavy starts to lean up, but the Medic puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Careful,” he says. “Try to keep still. I’m going to take a look at your neck.”

The bleeding has ceased, with only slight scabbing visible between the black nylon stitches. It was an ugly injury, the Medic remembers; deep and ragged. He touches around the wound gently. The skin around the sutures is a puckered, angry red, but doesn’t feel overly warm.

Otto feels the Heavy squeeze his hand. “It’s alright,” he says. “You’ve had worse. Does it hurt?”

“No.” Otto checks the stitches, and the Heavy hisses out through her teeth. “A little,” she admits. “Feels like...meat. Raw.”

She feels her eyes starting to drift closed again, her grip slack around the Medic’s hand. “Tired. Have been sleeping all night and all day, but...” Ulyana has to pause to yawn, wincing at the pull on her neck. “Still sleepy.”

Otto runs a hand over her hair. "You've lost a lot of blood. You're going to feel tired for a while."

She blinks up at him slowly.

"Shhh," he soothes.

There's a clock on the wall above his desk, but he can't see it from here. He doesn't have enough time, for Amelia, for the Scout, for the moving preparations.

What the Heavy needed was a transfusion, and he doesn’t have any blood packs in his supplies. It didn't make sense to keep much of something so hard to keep cold in a desert, especially not with the convenience of respawn.

The Medic reaches into his pocket. He can feel his hands shaking. The round bottle is still there. He could do it. And why not? He had reset the Sniper with little hesitation.

"Doctor?" Ulyana asks. "Something wrong?"

"It's nothing," Otto says, a little too quickly. His expression softens. “Let me give you something for the pain.”

The Medic pats the Heavy's hand and rises, walking around the foot of her cot to the IV stand. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little brown bottle and holds it to the light. The fluid swishes as he turns it over in his hand. He looks down at Ulyana and gives her a warm smile.

“Something to help you sleep," he says, the lie sour in his mouth. "It's important to rest."

The Medic takes up the syringe and draws a large amount of the pale yellow liquid, injecting it slowly into the bag's medication port. He adjusts the IV to a full flow and and returns to his seat by her side.

"Sleep if you're tired, Schatz," he says quietly, taking her hand.

Ulyana hesitates, as if to protest, but holds the Medic’s hand close and nods. “I was in...the van,” she says softly, struggling to piece the memories together. “And I didn’t see you, and last night, every time I woke up, Soldier just said to sleep and wouldn’t say where you were, and I was so worried.” The words come out in a rush, she’s gripping the Medic’s hand in white knuckles. She forces a breath, a smile.

“But you are alright.” She reaches for his arm with her free hand, pushing at his sleeve. “The Pyro, he hurt you...”

"You don't need to worry about me. I'm alright now," Otto says. "I always am."

The clock behind him ticks down the minutes in time to her heartbeat.

"We're both home. Safe."

“Safe,” she echoes. Gently, she moves her hand to his cheek, caressing the roughness of his jaw. Ulyana guides his head down to hers, giving him a short, sweet kiss.

The Medic can’t bring himself to meet her eyes. His throat feels tight and cotton-dry. “You know I will always take care of you,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

Ulyana nods, murmuring wordlessly. She keeps her hand resting along the Medic’s cheek, faces pressed close. She’s so tired. She nuzzles into the crook of the Medic’s neck with another muffled yawn. His tie flutters with her slow, labored breathing.

The Medic drapes an arm over the Heavy’s shoulders. “But I’m not going to leave you now,” he says. “Schlafe ein, Liebling.”

Ulyana doesn’t answer, but gives the twitch of a smile, resting against his shoulder. Her eyelids droop. Soon her fingers relax around his, and Otto lets her arm rest on the bed. He hums quietly, carding his fingers through her long hair. He can’t recall the words to the tune, just the hazy memory of a woman’s smoky silhouette, dancing by the light of a fire on the edge of his vision. The Heavy gives a weak moan and the image shatters.

The minutes drag. Otto stares vacantly at the IV drip, the clock ticking like a metronome at the back of his mind. He holds tight to Ulyana’s hand, feeling her pulse beginning to struggle; her breath growing against the crook of his neck.

This isn’t the first time you’ve done this to a woman, Otto thinks. He swallows hard. He is committed to his decision. He couldn’t take it back even if he wanted to. All the same, doubt threatens to engulf him like the tide.

Ulyana’s breath catches in a soft rattle and her fingers go slack around his. Otto doesn’t quite register what happened until he feels the static sparks shimmering over her skin. Her body fades away into nothing as the Respawn picks her up.

The Medic’s hands fall to the empty bed. He runs his palm over the still-warm sheets. “I made the right choice,” he repeats to himself under his breath. “I did.”

Otto’s heart is racing, threatening to claw its way out between his ribs. Otto forces deep breaths, slowly leaning forward to rest his forehead against the side rail of the gurney. The metal is cool and soothing. He looks down at his hands; he remembers them many years ago, slick with bright blood under hot projection lights. How they had shaken...it was enough to make him laugh.

It had been a mercy what you did then, too.

The Medic lets out a long sigh and rests his head in his hands.

It is a long time before the Medbay doors open again. Ulyana hesitates in the doorway, eyes adjusting to the dim. She raises her head and strides to the gurney where the Medic sits, still as a statue.

“I didn’t think our kiss was that bad,” she jokes, nudging her hip into the doctor’s shoulder. He looks up blankly, face ashen.

“Oh, doktor.” Ulyana sits down on the gurney, knees touching the Medic’s. He looks away, fingers knotting in the fabric of his coat.

“I understand,” she says softly. “And neck doesn’t hurt anymore! See?” The mark has healed into a pink posey of scar tissue. She lays her hand on the side of the Medic’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“I took a shortcut, you shouldn’t thank me.” Otto lets her tilt his chin up, leaning into her touch.

Before Ulyana can say anything, the Medic stands. He presses a quick kiss to her cheek and pulls her into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes into her shoulder. “I didn’t want to do it.”

“I know,” she says, shushing him faintly. Ulyana strokes a hand through his hair. “But there is nothing to forgive.” She holds him close, the relief a deep heat in her chest. She can feel his heart through her shirt, his breath against her skin.

With great reluctance, she breaks from his arms. “What can I do to help?”

“The Administrator is moving us to a new base,” Otto says, pushing up his glasses. “If you’re feeling up to it, the Engineer could use your help with the heavy lifting." He takes her hand. "I'll stay here, see what I can do."

The Medic looks over at Amelia and the Scout, laying motionless, asleep in their cots. "Fixing them won't be so easy.”

#rp #we go together #triage #an old crow

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