Why Did I Sign Up For This?! (Tankman x Doctor!Reader x OC)

The Cleaning Episode!

When you approach Ronny a few minutes after the briefing, he is more than happy to point you in the direction of the base hospital.

"Yeah, go straight out this exit here, turn left and go past the post office until you see this wonky gray building with the words "MED" on it. You'd have to be blind to miss it," Ronyn informs you as he absentmindedly continues to play with the bright red paddleball. He looks at your cracked glasses and squinting eyes. His mouth forms a little, regretful "o" and he rubs the back of his head.

"Uh, well.... If you do happen to get lost, just ask a guy in uniform to help ya out. We're everywhere," he jokes.

Wonky? You wonder what he means by that.

"Where might I go to get a new pair of glasses?" you ask him.

"Try the commissary across from here; you should have an account set up and can get pretty much whatever you need. It'll take a while to get you your ID, but just tell the people there your name and it should register in the system."

"Thanks, Ronny. You've been extremely helpful," you say with a smile.

Ronny beams. He finally lowers the paddle to give you his full focus. "Just doin' my job, doctor lady. You take care now, alright?"

The commissary does indeed have a pair of glasses for you—although the prescription isn't quite as powerful as your original pair. Still, when you step outside of the building, you can finally see your surroundings without having to squint at them like you're an angry old woman.

Although the evening sun has begun to sink beyond the horizon and most of the soldiers have disappeared indoors, it finally sinks in that you're on a military base with a job and duty to fulfill and with enemy solders that might target this place. As that reality sets in, so does the sinking feeling of doubt.

You could be back in your comfy apartment, a little voice in your head reminds you. Working at a hospital with almost zero chance of being bombed or attacked. Dr. T would be nearby if you got flustered or forgot how to do something. You wouldn't have to worry about Captain already hating your guts or if you'll be able to handle the pressure of fixing up wounded maybe dying soldiers.

You clasp at the front of your shirt and take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Then you continue walking, a look of determination set on your face.

No, this is where I'm needed, you remind yourself. The more help there is on the battlefield, the quicker this war ends and Dad ... the soldiers can come home.

Ronny's directions are easy enough to follow and before long, you're standing in front of what must be the hospital.

"Wonky" is an understatement.

The two-story cement gray building is hardly standing upright. There were missing bricks everywhere with loose rubble having tumbled down and built up into piles about the building. You count at least six broken windows.

Dust mites painted white by the intruding sun swarm your face as you enter the building. You fan them away and cough a bit. The doors slam behind you, startling you a bit. You're suddenly bathed in shadows.

Your hand fumbles around for a light switch on the wall. It touches something that feels like a set of switches. You flick each of them on. Every switch you flip upwards illuminates another part of the room. As you flick the last one up, the entire hospital is filled with light.

"Oh my ..." you mumble.

The inside of the hospital is, if possible, more dilapidated than its exterior. The lobby area looks as if no life has entered its doors for ages. Chairs, which probably lined the walls and hosted patients at one point, have been flipped over or knocked onto their sides. The seat padding had been nibbled at and unraveled by rats, so now the cushiony innards are exposed. Thick, cottony cobwebs coat the corners of every room you poke your head into and decorate the underside of each ratty bed.