Tried posting this yesterday, but evidently my British way of spelling meant that I was entering something that TF2chan took great offense to. Opps.

This was inspired by my trip to donate blood. Basically, it didn't work: they found a vein, put in the needle, missed the vein, wiggled the needle under my skin to find the vein, found the vein, got some blood then the blood stopped flowing. So it was all moot, save for the nice bruise I have now. And this fic of course.

Weird that this is my first time writing Medic, I love that guy.

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Scout clenched his fists, squirming. He hated doctors. Fucking loathes them, along with hospitals, gurneys , the freaky machines that are always beeping about something...anything medical. Scout fucking hated anything relating to medicine. He could just about bear them back home, when they would check him over, give him some pills and kick him out, but the Medics out here were fucking nuts. Who the shit uses fucking SYRINGES as a weapon? He shuddered, remembering the last time the enemy Medic had peppered him full of the little pricks.

Their own Medic was no better. He wasn’t the type to hide behind Heavy and use him as a meat wall for the duration of the fight. He’d chase down the BLU bastards as doggedly as Scout himself, swinging his Ubersaw with practiced ease and firing his own needle gun with startling accuracy. Granted, Scout respected that the German had some balls since he was fighting rather than tagging around after Heavy like some lost puppy or some shit. But he still was a creepy bastard, way too interested in internal organs to relax around.

The straps on his wrists didn’t help matters either. He swore, trying to pull his arms free.
“The fuck man! You said this was just some routine shit!” Medic didn’t even turn to face him, checking over a form. The doctor sighed and shook his head, fully aware that Scout was glaring at him.
“This is a routine procedure. But you will probably struggle and be a pain, so the straps are to keep you still.” He turned, tapping a pen on the form and eying Scout sharply. The boy was semi-reclined on one of the beds in the medical ward, strapped down at the wrists and upper arms. His legs thrashed uselessly.

Medic was careful to avoid the flaying limbs as he approached Scout, stern in his tone and demeanour. “You have not entered your blood type. Do you know what-?”
“Course I know what it is! Blood type is what type your fucking blood is. Dumbshit.” Medic resisted the urge to slap his forehead at the boy’s stupidity. He settled for smacking Scout instead. He allowed the boy to have a mild swearing tantrum before continuing.
“I meant what type your blood is, not if you understood what blood types are! Dummkopf.”

Scout’s vacant look told Medic all he needed to know. He grinned wolfishly. “Oh? We do not know...?” Scouts expression quickly switched from ‘blank’ to ‘panicked’.
“Ur, sure I do! It’s C!” Medic raised an eyebrow. He suppressed an amused smirk and decided to entertain the boy’s pathetic bluff.
“C? Positive or negative?”
“Negative.” Scout smirked broadly, clearly thinking his ploy had worked. “So, is that it? You know doc, the straps weren’t necessary if you were just gonna ask a question. You can let me out anytime now; the sooner the better, I got places to be.”

Medic pretended to jot down some notes, nodding to himself.
“This is...most interesting, Herr Scout. I have never heard of a C blood type.” He paced around the bed, steel-blue eyes piercing the young man’s skull to see the gears turn as he tried to think of an acceptable lie.
“You clearly don’t get it in Germany. It’s an American thing. You know, differences between people of different countries and all that shit.” Medic’s lip twitched. Scout pulled on his straps, getting impatient now. “So, you gonna let me out, fuckface?”

A gloved hand whipped out and caught Scout roughly by the neck, forcing him to lie back. Medic leaned over him ominously, a very sadistic smile blossoming from the initial twitch. The hand squeezed experimentally, slowly blocking the hallow airway and reminding Scout that he was in the doctor’s domain - it would be best to be compliant.
“Idiotischer junge. You think I cannot access that information? RED has kindly given me clearance to every medical document published, including universal databases. There is no blood type ‘C’. There has never been a blood type ‘C’. There never will be a blood type ‘C’. Unless you are the first to possess it, in which case I apologise and look forward to examining your blood sample. Now, stop swearing and shut up.”

He released Scout and strode over to his equipment, plucking what he would require from the shelves as Scout regained his breath, cursing loudly. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the needles Medic was currently looking over. It was no different from the ones he had to pull out after an encounter with the enemy Medic. The ally Medic turned with a dark smile, bringing a selection of needles and plastic bags with him. He fiddled with the bags, ignoring Scout completely, before placing them where they needed to be. Normally there was more procedure involved in taking blood from a patient; a checklist to be completed, questions to be asked and some mandatory tests to check that the patient was healthy enough to have their blood taken. However, Medic was not a normal doctor and didn’t have the patience to treat Scout like a normal patient. Regardless of the results of those tests, he needed Scout’s blood sample.

Out of curiosity about what made the young man so vigorous and athletically, yes, but primarily he had good, sane reasons for acquiring a bagful of whole blood from his uncooperative patient. Much as Medic enjoyed slicing up enemies on the battlefield he was, predominantly, the team doctor. If he didn’t know Scout’s blood type, he wouldn’t be able to effectively treat him should he need an operation. And, in such an event, blood delivered offsite would probably take days to arrive, days Medic wouldn’t want to waste sitting around waiting for blood. Ultimately, it was for Scout’s own wellbeing that he was doing this, although there was no denying the perks in store for Medic.

He ran a rubber-gloved finger down Scout’s left arm, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
“You have thin veins.” Scout’s head shoot upwards, trying to face Medic better despite the awkward position he was lying in. He looked slightly worried and very aggravated.
“What do you mean by that doc?” Medic smiled and shook his head, walking to Scout’s right side and tracing the veins in that arm instead. Although his smile was slightly softened he didn’t look up at Scout.
“It is nothing to worry about. It merely means that this will be more awkward since your veins are slightly harder to locate.” Happy with what he found, his fingers lingered at the crook of the elbow as he retrieved a pad and swabbed the area with alcohol. Or something that smelled like alcohol anyway.

Scout didn’t like the tone Medic was using. He didn’t like being held down, he didn’t like being in the medical bay, he didn’t like- Oh fuck, he really didn’t like the look of the needle the doctor was picking up! He would struggle and thrash more but the needle convinced him to stay still. That thing could be easily jabbed in his throat if he acted up. The point rested against the skin, posed to plunge in. Only now did Medic glance into Scout’s face, shifting his eyes without moving his head. His voice was quiet, low and strict...but somehow soothing.
“If needles make you nervous, look away. Now.”

Scout obeyed but still loudly hissed, “Fuuuuuuuck!”, as he felt the needle dive under his skin. Without the rapid propulsion caused by the needle being shot out a specialized gun, he could admit that it wasn’t so bad. Like a scratch that sunk into his arm, rather than staying on the surface of the skin. He refused to look, fists clenched tightly. Medic frowned.
“Hmm...The vein seems to have moved.” Scout twisted his needle-free arm angrily.
“And what the fuck does that mean?”
“It means I am going to have to find it. Now, this will sting...” Scout visibly cringed as Medic began to toy with the needle, rooting around under the skin to try and find the vein.
“Fucking shit man!”

Scout had been beaten, bludgeoned, shot, cut, stabbed, set on fire and needled during his time at RED. None of this had prepared him for the alien sensation that Medic was inflicting on him now – it was as if the needle was tearing through the vessels and nerves under the skin, which it probably was. He openly whined and cried out, recoiling and lashing out with his legs. The straps served their purpose – had he thrust out his arms too, the needle would’ve been dug deeper into the skin. Medic was able to ignore Scout and focus purely on the task at hand. The vein hadn’t moved right so it must’ve shifted left.

Finally, red liquid burst into the tube. Quickly grabbing some tape, Medic pinned the needle in place as Scout’s body slowly relaxed. Looking at the young man, he was amused to see that his eyes were screwed tight. Such a baby. It was probably his first time doing this sort of thing. The doctor cleared his throat, fussing with the bags as he spoke.
“It’s not so bad once the needle is in.”
“Fuck you.” Scout breathed, resting on his back and breathing deeply. Medic shook his head, clipping the blood flow away from the full sample bag so the blood poured into the larger collection bag.
“Clench and unclench your fist. It will make your blood pump faster so this will be over faster.”

Wordlessly, Scout did as he was told for once. Medic sorted the contents of the small container into three beakers, labelling them and placing them where they needed to be. He even began to work with them, choosing one vial and drawing droplets of blood into a syringe. Scout slowly opened his eyes and looked at his arm. It was pretty strange, to think that the dark red liquid in the tube was his blood. Quickly focusing on something (anything) else, he noticed Medic sitting with his back to him. This pissed him off.
“Hey Doc, aren’t you meant to be keeping an eye on this thing?”

With a heavy sigh, the professional answered.
“It will be fine as long as you keep the blood flowing in your arm. It will take about ten minutes so be patient.” He continued working, leaving Scout practically alone in a place he hated, strapped to a bed, with a needle in his arm. But that didn’t bother Scout. He hummed and chattered, quite at ease now. Medic was right, it was relatively easy to forget there was a needle in his arm – as long as he didn’t look at it. Medic easily ignored Scout, replying with a few absent hums when he was questioned. He had a gift for blocking out idle noise and Scout largely produced idle noise.

Finally, the time was up as the machine attached to the bag beeped, signifying that it was full. Medic strode over, turned it off and took off the tape securing the needle in place. He pulled it out quickly – Scout gasped an expletive at the sting as it was removed – and pressed a cotton bud over the injection site. He finally released Scout from the straps and made him hold the bud in place as he busied himself with the larger bag, now full of dark crimson blood, labelling it and swiftly storing it in what appeared to be a cooler. No doubt RED had altered it so it was suitable for storing blood for extended periods of time.

Scout watched Medic do all this, sometimes asking a question about how long the blood would last (“As long as it needs to”) and what he planned to do with it (“That’s none of your business Schweinhund!”). Quickly bored, Scout leapt to his feet and went to leave but was halted by Medic gruffly grabbing his left arm. Before he could swear about being seized on his way out, the doctor replaced the cotton bud with a plaster and pressed something into his hand. Scout blinked at the item, turned it over with his fingers. It was a chocolate bar, a plain milk chocolate bar from some place in Europe. He remembered his Mom would swoon at the thought of European chocolate. He gave Medic a strange look.

“Hey Doc. I like you as Medic and all, but-“ He was cut off by Medic slapping him again.
“Drecksau! You need to eat and drink well to replace the sugar and fluids you’ve lost with the blood you’ve given me! Now, get out before I lose all patience with you!” Scout was only too eager to flee. He knew what Medic could be like with no patience, and although he had never seen it happen in the medical ward, he could picture all too well the results.

Once clear from the doctor’s office he cautiously opened the chocolate bar and took a bite. Wow. Fucking wow. No wonder his Mom raved about this stuff, it was fucking delicious. He smirked to himself, taking another, larger bite.

Inside the office, Medic sighed deeply. At least that was done with. But he still had to get samples from Pyro, Demo and Spy. He ran his fingers through his hair. The things he did for science.