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"Medic!"
"What?!"
"Come here!"
I heard a grumbling and the snap of his latex gloves coming off. He muttered something in his native language, and poked his head in my lab, next door to his, "What do you want?"
"Take a look at this!"
He entered completely, and looked at what I was working on. Scout was laying on the examination table, hands behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. He smiled, "Look, Medic! My organs got an interestin' fun guy!"
Medic perked up, "Fungi?"
I nodded, taking out a portion of his small intestine, and showing the underside to Medic. It was a peculiar glowing green, with small spots of black here and there. Medic pushed his glasses up by the rim, and hummed curiously. He looked to Scout, "Can I have that?"
"My organs?"
"Just that portion."
Scout shrugged, "Yeah. Just make sure I can eat. Don't want food just floating around in my body!"
Medic gave him a pity laugh, and when he looked to me, he was serious, "Would you grab that pipe in the fridge?"
I looked down at my arms, which had Scout's intestines wrapped around them. Scout held out his hands, "I can hold those for you."
"Thank you..."
He took them, and I went to the fridge, lighting the cigar in the mouth of a detached head of a BLU Spy. I grabbed a metal pipe, and handed it to Medic. He looked to Scout, and grabbed a frying pan, bashing the guy on the side of the head. Scout's hands dropped like a ton of bricks and his intestines slipped through my fingers. They squished awkwardly on the floor and I picked them up. Medic, on the other band, was busy examining the empty cavity, then took the portion of his intestine with the fungi on it's underside. I noticed Archimedes sitting on Medic's head, and smiled a little at the curious dove.
I watched as Medic hastily chopped Scout's intestine in half, replacing the part he cut out with a pipe before it could ooze too much. He grabbed his gun, fixing up Scout, good as new. Scout woke up, rubbing his temple, "What am I doing in here?" He frowned at Medic, "Hey, freakazoid, did you swap my bones again?!"
Medic rolled his eyes, holding the small tube of intestine in his palm and running a thumb over the green fungus, ignoring Scout completely and walking across my lab to squish the piece of gut, and examine it further. I chuckled, assuring Scout nothing was wrong, and that he was just hit in the head in the last battle. He left hastily. I went over to Medic, peering over his shoulder. I held out a hand over his head, allowing Archimedes to sit in my bloody, latex palm. He nestled in the thick red fluid, staining his white feathers.
I held him to my chest, and Medic glanced to make sure his prized pet was alright, and blushed at the sight of him in my hands. He cleared his throat, "Go get a scalpel." I went to my desk, bending over to grab the sharp tool from a bottom drawer. I heard a loud splat, and turned around. Medic let out an awkward cough. I stood up, keeping Archimedes level in my hand, "What happened?"
His face was ferocious red hue, "I, uh... crushed that part of Scout's small intestine."
"What?! Why?!"
He shrugged, wiping the mushy substance off the board he had it on and inti the trash, silently.
"Medic?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you do that to Scout's small intestine?"
"It was... an accident."
I narrowed my eyes, "We're doctors. We can't afford accidents."
"Well, we clearly can. Kaff."
I snorted a laugh, "Did you just cough in German?"
He blushed, "Well, unless there is anything else you need, I will be going." He headed to the door, his lab coat hanging onto the air behind his brisk pace. Archimedes stayed put in my palm, warm and asleep. Medic called the birds name, and upon not having his pet appear next to him, he poked his head back into my lab, saying the birds name more firmly. When the dove didn't move, I chuckled, walking into Medic's lab, and taking off the bloody glove, with Archimedes on it, placing him onto Medic's desk. I took off my other glove and dropped it in the trash.
I held a clammy hand out to Medic, "Thanks for helping me out."
He stared at my hand, "What are you doing...?"
"Have you never shaken someone's hand?"
"Of course I have. I just don't know why you are insisting I shake yours."
I blushed, "Well I looked into a little German tradition, and saw a thing that said Germans typically shake hands when arriving and departing."
He smiled a little, grabbing my clammy hand with his, which was still covered in blood, smearing my palm. He pushed his lips to the back of my hand, looking at me over the rim of his glasses, "I await our next advancement with joy."
