Awkward Encounters: Major Autism Moments Ensue

Friday

Muddy boots thumped through the dirt and skidded around corners. Gunshots, explosions, yells of pain, and barking of orders filled the ears of every man on the field. Being able to push that noise into the background was difficult, but necessary for the job of the sniper. Concentration was key, and he was very good at concentrating. He had been doing this for years and had developed his senses to be able to focus on a single target. At that moment, he was focused on the enemy blu engineer, who was standing guard near a couple of his sentries. The sniper's plan was to take him out quickly so that the spy could slip in and destroy the sentries before the engineer could respawn. He lined up his rifle, took a deep breath in and... boom, the engineer was down. As the spy did his part, he turned his attention towards his other teammates. The battle was almost over as they had already been on the point for two minutes. The blu team had a few members down and was sent back to respawn, so red had an advantage.

The blu team members started running back into battle, attacking from below. Sniper shot down their pyro, which he thought was alone. The blu heavy who was just out of view saw him take

the shot and fired at him rapidly. He managed to duck down, but not before he got hit in the shoulder. Clutching his wound he crawled towards a nearby medkit. Before he could get to it the announcement went off that the red team had successfully kept the point for three minutes. Sniper let out a groan as he stood up, the medkit had despawned so he would have to wait to heal. Of course he could have gone to the medic, but he figured he would be busy enough as it is with everyone else. Sniper wasn't one to bother people so he usually kept his wounds to himself. He did know a fair amount of first aid so it's not like he would get an infection or would bleed out. Walking down towards the base he thought about how much work medic must have after hours.

Sniper returned to his van after putting his equipment away. He changed out of his bloody clothes and into an old pair of sweatpants. Still holding his bullet wound, he started a pot of coffee in his coffee maker. While he waited, he took a first-aid kit from one of his van's few cabinets and placed it on the small, messy countertop. He tended to his injury while waiting for his coffee to brew. The bandages covered the majority of his shoulder, neck, and chest. He plopped down on his bed after pouring himself a cup of the bitter drink.

I shoulda just gone to medic.

No, you're fine by yourself. Y'know first aid.

But it's his job, yeah?

He has enough on his plate without you.

A sour internal dispute His thoughts ping-ponged around in his head, almost as bitter as his drink. He huffed and shifted his gaze to his feet. Dirt was littered across the space where he tossed his clothing down. He figured that since he needed a new shirt and his clothes were filthy, a trip to the main building to wash his clothes was in order. He grabbed the soiled, blood-stained garments from beneath his arm and gulped the last of his drink before exiting the van.

Every stride he took kicked up dust. The building was old, but it served its purpose. He entered the building and went straight to the laundry machines. The space was modest, but it fulfilled its purpose well. In the cold room, there was only a washer, a dryer, a small drying rack, and a washbasin. Sniper tossed his clothing into the washing machine and set it to a regular cycle. He figured that it would be at least half an hour before he needed to change the load, so he began pacing around the small space, soaking in all the fine details.

"Oh, hello herr sniper" the familiar orotund voice made sniper jump.he twisted his neck to see exactly what he was dreading to see, the medic, standing right behind him. He was holding a laundry basket filled with a mix of pristine clothing of various earthy tones and other bloodstained articles.

"Oh, um hey" he responded with clenched teeth. All he could do was hope that their interaction would be short and that he would not say anything about the bandages.

The shorter man dropped the basket he was carrying and walked over to the sniper's side. He was dressed in a brown sweater vest, dark grey slacks, and a white dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, which were littered with scarring. His hair was carefully pulled back, with not a single stray hair. All of this has been noticed by Sniper in a fraction of a second. The medic's look at that moment was one he desired would stay with him forever.

"Quiet as usual are we?" medic teased, bringing sniper back to reality.

He lowered his eyes to the other man's feet. "Ha, yeah that's.." a small chuckle escaped his throat. Medic wasn't wrong about him being quiet. The reason for his solitude was rooted in distaste, but rather a sense of comfort and a fear of change. Sure he would hang around with the others once in a while, but at the end of the day you'd most likely find him pacing about on his own.

"Your scars healed well," the doctor commented "I was expecting more complications." sifted through his laundry as if looking for something that wasn't there. After removing his attention from his laundry, the medic turned to the other man. He looked at him, but not directly and sure as hell not his eyes. "How is your breathing? That's what I was predicting would be the biggest problem," the question felt like he only half cared, but at least it was something. At least he was kind enough to perform the surgery, if it was even done out of kindness.

"Is alright i guess," beeping from the laundry interrupted their small talk. He took the wet laundry from the washer and set it in the dryer. Medic then got to putting his own laundry into the washing machine.

"Good good, and what about your sleep?" the machine rumbled to a start as he spoke. The medic smiled ever so slightly and let out a soft chuckle as he spoke "well, what I mean is, anything abnormal? Because if i'm being honest you do not seem to be the type to prioritise sleep."

" right on with that one.." sniper mumbled "same old". He tapped on the dryer as it rumbled on.

"And your shoulder? How is it?" the medic fiddled with the basket he was holding.

" Bit banged up but- wait-" sniper had almost completely forgotten about his shoulder

FUCK

"You really thought I wouldn't notice?" he took a couple strides towards him " it is quite obvious. I mean you're not just going to be bandaged up for no reason". Sniper took a step back and looked up from wherever he was staring to look at the shorter man's face. He couldn't read the expression on his face exactly, but he was guessing it was something between amusement and disappointment.

"Ah shit, well, I wasn't really planning on going to you for it," he smiled weakly "figured you'd be busy enough with the rest of them blokes". The dryer beeped, an excuse to leave coming down to him from heaven. "That's my cue to grab my stuff and rack off then, seeya later mate" he quickly grabbed his clothing and turned to scurry away, but a hand on his non-bandaged shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm not letting you leave my sight in that condition" his voice was soft, but still stern. Stern enough to convince the bushman that it would probably be best if he stayed. "Now, what we will do is stay here until I am done with my laundry. After that, we will go to the infirmary and I will check your shoulder. You will cooperate, ja?"

The infirmary, oh god he hated that place. It wasn't like he had much of a choice though, especially with a man like the medic on his back about it. "Yeah, yeah sure.." he complied.

All he could do was hope it would be quick.