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If there was anything that Y/N was good at, it was running on caffeine, carbs, and minimal sleep. She hunched over her equipment, carefully mixing together chemicals before looking at them under a microscope. She observed the reaction, documented it, then continued through her process. Despite the silence in the room, she was on high alert, fingers working meticulously and diligently as she attempted a new scientific breakthrough. Her breathing was at a steady, thick pace, and her brows were furrowed in a tight knot, wrinkling her forehead above her eyebrows.

Y/N was working in a cleared space in the medbay. She had been personally situated by Medic, who had sat her by a ventilation shaft. She wasn’t quite close to the examination table, giving Medic, who frequently worked there, plenty of space for only God-knows-what.

Initially, Medic had been quite annoyed when Miss Pauling suggested letting Y/N use up some space. For 2 years, that had been his private space to fuck around and work, and he didn’t like the idea of having to share it with somebody he didn’t know. Yet that tension was quickly eased with how considerate, thankful, and downright nice Y/N was to him. She was neat, and always cleaned up properly. She didn’t talk too much, but when she did, it was a nice, pleasant conversation that would elicit a few chuckles. She was cute, small, shy, and had a notably adorable focused look on her face while she worked. She didn’t smell bad, and she took care of her hair and nails. She would ask questions about what he was doing, and seemingly wasn’t very squeamish to blood and gore.

One day, Y/N had been fidgeting quite a bit more in her seat, picking at the skin on the tips of her fingers, and adjusting her hair. She turned around and looked up at Medic, who was busy cutting open the body of one of their recently killed targets. She watched for a few minutes, waiting for a good moment to speak. Medic, who had just finished pulling his ribs out, wiped his forehead on the back of his forearm. Y/N chimed up.

“Hey, Doctor, uh- listen, I totally understand that you’re super busy right now, but if you were interested, I’d like to test out this serum I’ve been working on. If you’d like me to use a different body, that’s fine, but I’m in the testing stage, so I was wondering if I could either like-” she felt her face flush at the word-vomiting, “could I help you? Or-”

“Help me? Oh of course, Frau! Actually, I’ve been quite curious as to what you’ve been up to over there.”

Y/N’s nervous glint turned into a bright smile. She lept off her stool and trotted over, beginning to explain the serum, what it's supposed to do, what it’s made of, and so forth.

This was the beginning.

As of now, Y/N and Medic have not only grown to enjoy each other’s company, but to willingly, and wantonly collaborate on their pseudo-human-experimentation. From the perspective of the team, the sudden positive, synergetic shift the two had in their relationship was out of the blue, yet not entirely unexpected.

Heavy, who had kept these thoughts to himself, was thankful that Medic had finally cracked open, even by just a little. The way he behaved around Y/N was unashamed, confident, and most importantly, excited. He had somebody who would listen to his stream-of-consciousness rambling about his medical achievements. He had somebody who, not only would listen, but who shared new, fresh ideas. He had somebody who wanted to help him because they were just like him, and likewise, he wanted to help them back.

Medic loves his team. He cares about them more than anything, and he’ll use his skills, his knowledge, and his- albeit illegal- methods to protect and heal them. However his actions had always been difficult to read, and his smile sent shivers down the spines of his patients. He was difficult to trust, and he was difficult to believe in. Although his team currently sees his efforts in their entirety, there are still moments of doubt. Maybe Medic isn’t as caring as they thought?

Nobody thinks Y/N ever consoled him about the subject, but it’s obvious to observers that her behavior had rubbed off on him. Her genuine looks of worry, to her gentle, reassuring touch had unintentionally taken the team by storm. She wasn’t particularly motherly, but her presence, and empathetic words of understanding were comforting and warm. Medic’s smile never softened, his oddities never lessened, but the team had to confirm with one another that his touch was more nurturing. It was like you could feel his worry through his fingertips as he rubbed antibiotics onto healing wounds. Afterall, the two would spend ungodly amounts of time in the medbay. Hours upon hours, days upon days, of silence, devolving into loud, manic fits of laughter.

It didn’t help that Archimedes took a liking to Y/N almost immediately. When she first had to get her heart-replacement surgery, Archimedes flew right onto her nose, chirping up at Medic. Medic was quite excited, considering Archimedes never rested so gently on any of his patients before. Archimedes chirped, and Medic erupted into roars of laughter. Y/N looked at him confused:

“What did he say?”

Wiping the tears that formed in his eyes, he responded between breaths, “Archimedes thinks you’re rather -how should I put it- charming!” Medic watched as Y/N’s eyes lit up in excitement.

“Really?! He thinks I’m charming? Thank you! You’re quite a pretty looking dove yourself!” She cooed. Archimedes chirped back and did a little dance. “Say, Doctor, can you really understand what he’s saying?”

“Of course! Let’s just say it’s taken a lot of trial and error.” He grinned, and of course being him, looked maniacal and evil, yet Y/N just giggled.

“I bet!”

Sometimes, the team would hear shrieks and cheers of delight because of a successful experiment. The two would hobble upstairs, typically disheveled and oily from their lack of hygiene, whooping and congratulating themselves. The team had learned not to ask them what had happened, and just left the two to loudly cheer on Schnapps that Y/N insisted on buying.

The next morning, you’d see the two slumped over on the common-room couches. Empty bottles of liquor and small glass cups sat adjacent. Y/N’s small body curled up on her side, as Medic laid on his back, legs sprawled across the couch. One leg dangled off the side, the other resting awkwardly on Y/N’s. A few of their colleagues snickered at them, Demo nodding in solidarity, but nobody had the guts to wake them up.

One time during battle, Medic, Heavy, and Demo were pushing the incoming cart back. Y/N, who was positioned on top of a building, took surveillance of the scene, and when she saw Scout, suspiciously creeping up behind Medic, she gasped. Hopping down from her position, she drew her crossbow and took aim, shouting out “Doc! Behind you!”. The bolt went straight through Scout’s head, revealing it to be the other team’s Spy. Y/N continued rushing down,shooting her grappling hook up to an adjacent window above where most of the team was positioned.

She landed on the windowsill, the sudden shift in velocity made her queasy, but Medic shouted “Danke!”, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile and shout back “Bitte!”. He laughed at her shitty pronunciation, to which she imitated throwing something at him, and slipped back through the window.

Those kinds of interactions make the team gag. There’s no way in hell that they wouldn’t make fun of them when they’re not around. It’s not that they don’t like them, but dear God, it’s so incredibly painful to watch. Even Heavy, who usually scolds the team for making scrutinizing remarks, occasionally quivers a brow at a particularly good impression of his dear friends.

“I have to hear words like those all day. Doctor laughs like little girl. Y/N is too nice.” He’d declare, to which the entire team bursts into hollers and strained laughter. The few words the man would say were filled with sentimentality, and in this case, annoyance, with a tiny bit of amusement. He’d deny it if you confronted him about it.

One day, Scout had put an arm around Y/N, which should’ve already been a red flag.

“Soooo,” he began, a mischievous glimmer in his eye, “you got feelin’s for the doctor or somethin’?”

“Huh?!” She jumped back in shock, “me? No way. Sorry Scout, you got the wrong person!” She laughed, waving her hands in front of her.

“You’re not very convincing, maybe try being a bit more serious when you deny it, huh? Or what, you can’t? C’mon, just come clean about it! I won’t tell anybody!” He tried to bargain.

Y/N pouted, whining out his name: “Scout~ I swear I don’t have feelings at all, we’re just coworkers, that’s it! Besides, even if I did, which I don’t, there’s no way I would trust you with that information. You’re, in fact, the last person I’d tell at all!”

Their bickering continued, Scout teasing, no, downright bullying Y/N to faux tears and persuasive pouts.

And although his words were to be left as banter and nothing more, on the nights where Y/N wasn’t working, she’d stay up and spend a large amount of time preparing herself for bed. During this time, she couldn’t help but think about the words said to her by Scout. Did she really have feelings for Medic? Maybe she’s just feeling admiration for him because he’s older, and more experienced! Should she even think deeper about it? It’s plausible that she’s just excited that somebody finally has similar interests to her! There’s no way she could fall in love with him.

Even if she did, she’d refuse it. If she wanted to find a boyfriend, she’d go to a mixer, not to an institution of cold-blooded mercenaries. She was tired. She just wanted to sleep.

And so far, that was it. Their relationship teetered right on the fine line between close friends, and the tense, synergetic clusterfuck of chemistry that everybody but them seemed to see. They rarely touched each other, but their eyes always seemed to linger on each other's backs. They spent hours awake together, yet they’d never think to talk about the meaning of life, or the soft, sentimental parts of their childhood. Their eyes would lock, yet not enough to sync their hearts.

It was there. They were the two chemicals that would cause an explosion, but they just never collided, no matter how close they were pushed together. There was never a moment, a fleeting brush of bare skin. Never a raw, unafraid sob of pain and internal suffering. Never a drunk confession, nor a dip into the water of their affection.

Heavy, one of Medic’s most trusted companions, had gently inquired him about the matter. Medic could only give a half-hearted smile as he worked at the mans’ insides.

“I don’t have the time or luxury to think about such things.” Medic said, an almost disappointed look on his face.

Heavy just hummed in affirmation.

So that leaves us here. Y/N, hunched over on her stool, her leg under her other thigh as she carefully placed a petri dish of blue goop under a microscope. She sighed as she continued analyzing the substance, trying to find any visual changes from the last batch. She had been at it for hours, retrying formulas, maybe adding a bit more, or maybe a bit less. At that point, it was like she was counting atoms one-by-one. Medic watched as she counted, using her fingers to keep her place before she double, then triple checked. She scrawled on a piece of paper a number with a series of letters. She took the syringe and filled it up with the substance.

Standing up from her stool, she turned around and nodded at him. Silently, Medic adjusted the Medigun positioned above an unconscious, unknown body. He turned the dial down, allowing the gun to heal the man just enough to keep him alive, but not enough to fix his hopefully soon to be wounds. Y/N took a deep breath and patted around the body, using techniques for injection she had learned long ago. She found the vein, muttered a little “okay” to herself.

Medic came around behind her and placed his hands on the table next to her small body. He leaned a bit closer, not too close as to touch her, but close enough to make his presence painfully known. He leaned a bit down, he was much taller than her after all. She could feel his breath gently linger against her neck.

“Go ahead, whenever you’re ready.” His voice was low, a near whisper, as he glued his eyes on the hands of his coworker.

Y/N froze. She felt like a mouse cornered by a cat. Her heart was pounding, she even felt her grip on the syringe slip. She leaned back unconsciously, bumping into Medic’s chest. He was warm. Too warm. Was he doing this on purpose? She was about to get her answer.

“I’m sorry, am I too close?” He asked politely. It was that question that drove Y/N in a new predicament. By posing a question like that, it was confirming that Medics actions were intentional. Then she realized that her own response could totally change the outcome of the situation! How difficult!

But as much as she was confused and nervous, her heart was thumping out of her chest, and her legs were shaking. This kind of contact was just way too much! After being so touch starved for so many months, the whisper of breath on her neck, to the large, thick calloused hands so dangerously close to her own was so.. Threatening? No, it was tempting. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to lean back and let him cradle her waist, gently guiding her as she tortured the body in front of them.

“No, you’re not too close,” she choked back, her voice cracking with the syllable. She cursed herself for flubbing it, but the thought immediately dissipated as Medic’s broad chest finally pressing up against her back.

“Here, you look nervous,” Y/N could just hear the grin in his voice, and on a usual day, she might playfully punch him, or lightly dig her foot into his. However Y/N’s body betrayed her, and before she could even retort back at his obvious teasing, he gently placed his hands over hers, causing her to redden in embarrassment. She felt so hot from how embarrassed she was. She couldn’t hear, or think properly, only able to take what he gave her.

“I’ll do it with you, Frau.”

It was a true moment of clarity. It was a moment of need, of want, of lust, of sadness, and of a desperate, intense wave of desire for not just his body, but the companionship that he could give her. She swallowed thickly, realizing what it all meant. What everything meant.

The months upon months of teasing smiles, of a protective hand on her back, of her own colleagues pushing her buttons relentlessly. Medic’s excitement at the little kisses Archimedes would give the both of them. The way Medic’s eyes would sharpen when he saw Y/N swing down crying out in pain as her open wounds gushed blood. The playful karate chops Y/N would dish out when Medic would refuse to take meal breaks. The way Medic would pull any strands of hair back from her face as she hunched over her lab. The massages he’d offer, and although Y/N refused at first, she eventually caved from his repeated bid, letting him relentlessly crack all the bones in her body. It hurt, yet the relief she felt afterwards was heavenly. The cute little fat birds Y/N would doodle on the pad of sticky notes he kept at his desk. The fits of laughter when they’d watch a particularly bad slasher movie during their free time. The sheer fact that Medic would inject a significantly larger dosage of Lidocaine into her before having to dissect her, or dig out debris from her wounds. The way he smirked when Y/N stuck her tongue out at him from across the battlefield.

It was astonishing how they couldn’t have noticed. How could they have been so blind? Or maybe Medic knew, and maybe Y/N’s the idiot. Nonetheless, both Medic and Y/N were idiots, for even tripping and falling in love in the first place.

This wasn’t the time to get emotional. She could cry about it later, but for now, she forced herself to focus on the experiment she slaved away at. This was not the time to make some big romantic confession scene, and Medic knew that too.

She adjusted her grip, Medic’s hands momentarily leaving her own. She huffed out another small “okay”, and he placed them back where they were before. She punctured the skin, reaching the vein, pushing in just enough. Medics thumb came up to Y/N’s, and on the exhale of a shared breath, pushed the contents of the syringe into their guinea pigs body.

Immediately, the blood circulating up and down the arm started to harden, stilling the muscles, and cutting off circulation entirely. Medic and Y/N stared up at the heart monitor, and as the area around the chest seemed to harden, the heart rate went flat, a dull tone ringing through the medbay.

“YES! I DID IT!” Y/N exclaimed, a loud cry of victory ringing with her fist pumping in the air. Along with her own cheers, Medic joined in, whooping and congratulating her. He spun her around, placing his hands on her waist, and yanked her up in the air. He spun around, spinning the girl in his arms with him. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly.

“You’re a genius, Frau!” Placing her down, he took her hands in his, “You never fail to impress me, you always come up with the most spectacular things.” He smiled at her, and for the first time, it was a soft, lovestruck smile of endearment and admiration. His other, maniacal grins were genuine of course, but this one felt so different, and so much better.

Y/N blushed and leaned into his chest, wrapping her arms around his torso, and he reciprocated the touch. He squeezed her tight, hands firmly grounding her. She muttered out a small “thanks”, and relished in the warmth of his body. She felt a tinge of guilt for not initiating any of the affection, but she couldn’t help but just go along with how he led her. She smiled at the thought.

Medic placed his hands one more on her shoulders, pulling her back. They looked up at each other, blue eyes meeting the wide, anticipating ones of Y/N. He had a very serious look on his face, his brows furrowed as he ran his tongue over his teeth. Medic raised his hands to Y/N’s soft face, stroking the skin on both sides with his thumbs. He tilted his head in awe, admiring the way she gazed up with him. Her eyes were filled with anticipation and docility, waiting for him to make the final move.

He leaned it, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, gripping at his sleeves. He chuckled, placing his forehead against hers.

“Look at me,” he ordered, Y/N slowly opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Y/N flushed, suddenly aware of his smouldering hot stare piercing into her. He gave a sultry, downright evil smirk. Then suddenly, he took her cheeks in between his thumb and index finger and pulled, squeezing the skin roughly.

Y/N yelped out in pain that transitioned into a whine of annoyance because even now, he still chooses to tease her. She feels embarrassed, almost silly for expecting a kiss, but that was definitely implied! There’s no way you wouldn’t expect that sort of thing in that situation! That's’ not her fault!

Medic chuckled, adjusting his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders back, trying to ease the tension left in his muscles. He turned to walk towards the medbay door.

“Come, let’s go eat, we must celebrate! You have defied modern science, a worthy cause, I suppose!” He exclaimed, Archimedes flying down to perch on his shoulder. Y/N stood there dumbfounded. His dumb, all knowing grin drove her absolutely crazy, and so to get back at him, she ran up behind him and punched his arm lightly, again anad again.

“You fucking tease!”

“Sorry sorry, you were just begging for it, how could I not tease you? Maybe if you didn’t act all bashful I wouldn’t have to!”

“Yeah, and you’re the one who tried to jump me in the first place!”

All he could do was grab her wrist and hold her hand in his, a manic, lovestruck smile painting his face, and for the first time, Medic thought to himself, that maybe it was okay to indulge in his selfish feelings just this once.