Mediscout - Blog Posts

my old acc shadowbanned, so I created a new one and yeah, drop here some of my old mediscout sketches that I still love

rabbit heart

rating: G fandom: team fortress 2 warnings: no archive warnings apply characters: scout (tf2), medic (tf2) pairing: scout (tf2)/medic (tf2) summary: Medic can't help his feelings as he operates on Scout's brand-new über-heart.

read here or on ao3!

It took some more prodding around than what his previous patients needed, but when Medic extracted the heart out from the cavity, he couldn’t help but be completely enraptured.

It was average sized, though it appeared rather small in his large palm. Small, but strong nonetheless- the muscle beating firmly in his grasp. He’d give it another minute or so until it fluttered to a stop, which made him feel rather disappointed. The other hearts died almost immediately upon extraction, but this one- this one was determined to stay alive no matter if it was pumping nothing but air. A heart befitting its stubborn owner, he supposed. 

He let his gaze travel along the fibers, amazed at how spotless and utterly perfect the tissue was. He felt his mind start to race with all the new endless possibilities. The other mercenaries’ hearts stood no chance against his new experiment- a new, compatible heart was necessary. However, perhaps this heart could push the limits and hold its own against the Medigun. But would he dare risk such a precious specimen? A chill ran down his spine, a sensation he had yet to feel in the familiarity of his operating room. 

In his professional opinion, this was perhaps the finest human heart his eyes ever had the pleasure of beholding. 

(Although, he may be biased.)

“Hey, Doc,” Scout said, his amused face tinged orange behind the medi-beam. “Ya done gawkin’ over there?”

Medic coughed, trying his best to ground himself, “I was just admiring the healthy state of your heart.”

“Oh yeah?” Scout snickered. “Maybe you should just take a picture instead.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Medic scoffed, gently placing the heart on a metal tray. “Formalin and alcohol do a much better job.”

Scout’s nose scrunched up at the words, “Form-what?” 

“Never mind,” Medic said, attaching the Über-mechanism to the new heart. Had he said that aloud? Surely not. “Would you mind holding open your ribcage a little more?”

Scout adjusted himself on the operating table, “Ya mean like this?” 

“Perfect,” Medic said, breathless. The heart beat strong in his hand, but it was nothing compared to his own hammering away in his chest. It just wasn’t fair- how can a man be so handsome on the outside, and have such beautiful insides? It was like he was ripped straight from the anatomy book he stole- borrowed from a fellow medical colleague. Every organ and system worked flawlessly, untouched by any imperfections. A blank canvas pleading to be worked on, and Medic’s hands itching to get to work. 

“Ya know, I don’t mind ya pokin’ around in there.”

Medic blinked, “Pardon?” Scout chuckled, the faintest of pinks dusting his cheeks. 

“Take me out to dinner, and then you can do whatever doctor crap you wanna do.”

“I would need to do it before a meal to avoid any complications,” Medic said, wondering if any of the doves tampered with the heater settings, “But I know of a lovely restaurant in town.”

“So it’s a date then?” Scout asked, his endearing smile making Medic want to kick his feet in joy. He heard the rustle of some feathers somewhere, but he paid no mind. With all the care in the world, Medic placed the heart gently into Scout. 

“It’s a date.” 

Thinking about medic being afraid of mortality.

Not in the normal way that humans are, but like... You know.

He's done everything in his power to make sure he *won't die*

He's made deals with religious entities he doesn't even believe in, he's gone against every law of science he can possibly break to find out what combination of organs and chemicals and horrible unethical surgeries will make someone invincible. He's done everything he can, and maybe it's enough.... For him.

But then he fell in love.

He fell for Scout. He fell for a clumsy little idiot who doesn't have any sense of self preservation. Scout charges headlong into a stream of bullets guarded by nothing but his thin, Mann Co issue t shirt and the hope he's fast enough to dodge it all. He's not, he never is, and Medic is so constantly aware of it.

But he can't recreate everything he did on scout. Scout isn't going to be the invincible übermensch that he made himself into, scout is always just gonna be a skinny kid from Boston with a buck toothed smile that, for some reason, medic can't stay away from.

He's waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, furiously checking Scouts pulse and making sure he's okay, because what if he just... Fades away? What if he's just gone one moment and that's it? All his work is for nothing because he can't enjoy it with anyone? He can't enjoy being alone anymore, not now that he's waking up every day with a muffled "mornin' tough guy, you sleep good?" in his ear. He can't live as the most powerful man in the world anymore, not if it means he can work late at night without Scout coming in and blabbering in his ear about something he has no interest about. Not if it means he's got to sleep alone again. Not if it means that he has to go back to being blissfully unattached, apathetic to human life, just doing whatever benefits *him*.

Because things were definitely easier without Scout, he didn't have any worries, any panicked nightmares about watching him bleed out because he's so painfully and horribly *human*

But as stressful as it is, hes... Happy. And he's never had that before. He's been content, he's been curious, he's been manic and obsessed, but never just... Happy. Happy to lay on the couch with a comforting weight on his chest, the weight of a much smaller man who loves him for everything he does no matter how insane. And he loves scout too, despite everything.

He can't function anymore. Everything he knew, everything he's been working for, it's all.... Worthless now, isn't it? All for a boy half his age with the emotional awareness of someone even younger.

But he would still choose scout. Every time.

   "Jeremy." he whispered. Scout stayed hugging himself, staring at the river below.  "Schatz..."  He let his eyes dart over to Johan, and God... The man was like his own personal Medusa, trapping him in place whenever he saw his eyes. That was how the story went, right?

   "Doc-" 

   "I would kill for you."  Scout hadn't been able to say anything. He didn't even remember if he had anything to say. He just sat, sitting on the edge of the bridge, staring helplessly into the Medic's painfully sincere eyes. He was good at acting, Scout knew that. Scout had seen him lie, knew that he was better at it than the friggin' Spy. This... This was so honest it hurt.

   The silence was like a gap in the universe; Time wasn't passing, nothing was moving, it was just the cool blue light from the moon shining onto Johan's gorgeous face and that one sentence, hanging in mid air. "I love you" had been big, but it hadn't stopped everything. "I need you" had been a desperate cry caught in the dark between kisses, but it had been made important by how fast everything was flying around them.

   "Jeremy?" Johan asked quietly, snapping time back into motion. Scout blinked.

   "I-I... Doc?" he stammered. His heart was pounding. Kill? For... Him? That shouldn't be that shocking, he had seen Medic kill before. Hell, he probably enjoyed killing more than anyone else at Mann Co. But everyone just respawned at the end of the match and shook hands. Did that count? Nobody was really dead, nobody left with any long lasting trauma, and none of them were gonna get charged with murder... Probably. He must have instinctively flinched away from the older man, because his much larger hand flew to Scout's, almost like he was begging him to stay. Scout didn't need him to beg. Scout would have forced himself to stay.

   "I... I'm sorry-" Medic began.

   "Do you mean it?" Scout breathed, catching him off guard. Johan's blue eyes scanned him for something, some hint of ulterior motives... Or something. His mouth was open just a crack, making him look so vulnerable, so afraid to be rejected by a boy half his age and half his size. Scout watched as he closed the crack and swallowed, putting himself back together as the unstoppable force of nature that was the RED Medic.

   "Yes. Of course." he answered, firmly. The sincerity in his eyes didn't hurt anymore. It was still intimidating, and frankly fucking terrifying, but it wasn't a terror meant for Scout. It was meant for anyone who would be stupid enough to get between them. Be it Spy, or the jackasses in the real world, or hell, the Administrator or... Or... Who cared? They were all the same, just squishy lumps of blood and meat that Johan could tear apart without even a second thought. All that power... All that primal terror, it was Scout's to control. "I would kill for you" wasn't just the manic joy that he took in violence, it was devotion. Medic would kill for him, for Scout. Nobody else.

   He pushed himself forward and threw his arms around the older man's neck.

   "I love you." he whispered, threading his fingers through the greying hair at the back of his head, holding onto it like a lifeline. As sure as the sun would rise in the morning, Medic's hands did the same. One on the small of his back, the other cradling his head, finding lifelines of his own.

"I love you too." Just one hand was nearly the size of Scout's whole head, and that just made him feel safer. He could squeeze his eyeballs out of his skull without breaking a sweat, but he wouldn't. He was soft, gentle, warm... Only for him. And God damn, wasn't that the best feeling in the world.

Can I ask for Mediscout where Medic is talking about one experiment or the other because someone else asked about it and Scout retains the information, because well, sue him for being interested, it's interesting to hear the doctor talk (and if it gives him him reason to stay a little closer and watch a little longer, thats no ones business. Especially you, Spy.) And later, when someone asks what the newest idea from Medic is, Scout answers instead of Medic without thinking

Of course! Mediscout is one of my faves to write💞

Warnings: None!

Rating: General

Scout pulled his favorite seat out from the kitchen table as he sat down with his plate of breakfast. He scoots in between Heavy and Soldier, squished by the massive men as they eat their share. The youngest of the three takes a few bites, mindlessly eating before a faint voice grows louder.

“Why are you so worried? All I have to do is inject octopus skin cells into yours, and your cloaking will be seamless!” It was Medic, carrying several sheets of paper with diagrams, charts, and sporadic research. He was following Spy into the kitchen, and the Frenchman looked utterly sickened by the proposition.

“Doctor, I spent a minimum of an hour exfoliating, moisturizing, and beautifying my skin. I will not have my work destroyed by…whatever it is you plan.” Spy, admittedly, tuned out the doctor’s rambling. He isn’t the first of their team to do so though. Whenever Medic goes on and on about his discoveries or experiments, most of the team has learned to drone him out. Even Heavy is guilty of losing focus when Medic word vomits his projects.

“You’re being irrational! The octopus cells go underneath your normal skin. I can manipulate them into becoming part of your body, and once the burning sensation fades, you will be the best Spy in the world!” Medic holds out one paper, hoping it would at least persuade Spy into reconsidering. He spent a whole month developing this! Sure, its still highly experimental and could potentially leave Spy with an unsavory complexion, but that’s science! Anyone with a brain can see why they should absolutely trust his work.

“The answer is no. A squid has no place in my body except when I order calamari. Good day.” Spy swipes his plate of breakfast, reaching past Scout to grab the jar of marmalade set on the table. Toast smeared with the sweetness, he promptly leaves the team to enjoy their food. Scout rolls his eyes at the rude parting. He could at least think on it and give Medic’s work a bit of validation.

The man works tirelessly, day and night to improve the team. Scout has found him passed out in his office, hair astray and face tucked into his arms. So many times he wanted to reach out and brush the strands back into place, but he can’t! That’s too weird. Coworkers don’t play with each other’s hair, unless they’re hairdressers. Scout is pretty sure neither of them are in that profession.

“Octopus.” Medic mutters his correction, stacking his papers into a neat pile and heading back to the lab. He gives a disheartened sigh. Maybe he should have offered to do a test strip of skin. Somewhere on Spy’s arm to visualize the comparison and reconsider. He just gets so excited!

“Mornin’, lads.” Demo proclaims to the kitchen as he struts towards the fridge. He rummages through it for a moment before producing a bottle of morning whiskey. With a quick pour into a cup of coffee, he slips the alcohol back inside the fridge and takes a gulp of his drink.

“What was that thing Medic was talking about?Something with seams.” Engineer drums his finger against the table, trying to recall what the man was planning. As his silence grows, he desperately looks for help. Soldier is stuffing his face, Sniper is pretending to sleep, and Heavy is taking far too long to sip his water.

“Doc wants to put octopus skin on Spy to make his invisibility better, but the Frenchie is too fancy for it.” Right as Scout finishes his explanation, he sees the doctor standing in the doorway. His trip back from the clinic was shorter than anticipated, and Scout feels his face burning up. God, he sounded like such a geek just now, and not for the experiment.

Medic stares at the young man in shock and a bit of adoration. Since when did Scout ever listen to him, or anyone for that matter? The runner revolves around himself, focused on his own greatness and incredible strength, which he completely lacks. Everyone comes second to Scout, so how did he perfectly encapsulate Medic’s experiment when no one else could?

“Ja, he’s right.” Medic takes a closer look at Scout. His cheeks are tinted red, and his left hand is shaking more than the right. His head stays lowered as he shovels the last bite of breakfast into his mouth. Before Medic gets a chance to ask how Scout remembered, the man is rushing away. Once again, Scout is too quick for the German.

“Uh, see ya.” Oh, that won’t do. Someone finally gives Medic the time of day to listen, and they try to run off? Not on this doctor’s watch. Breakfast shoved in the fridge for later, Medic’s white lab coat flutters behind him as he hurries after Scout. His leather boots clacking against the floor with every step.

To no one’s surprise, Scout tries to run. His walk turns into a jog, rounding corners with too sharp of turns. Medic huffs, following right on his heels. Scout might be the fastest class, but there’s only so many turns he can make before hitting a wall, which he does. Literally. Too distracted by dodging the German, Scout smacked face first into the wall leading to the showers.

“Scout? May we speak?” Medic calls out as the boy cups his sore nose. Scout presses to the offending surface, unable to pull away as the doctor steps closer. His gloved fingers adjust the circle glasses framing his gray eyes. Scout gulps, trying not to look him in the eye. Damnit, why is he so attractive?

“I want to thank you for listening. It seems as if you’re the only one these days.” That little praise does Scout in. His blushing face goes fully red, and he slinks against the wall. Damnit, damnit! Focus, Scout! Its just Medic. Why is he so weird about the man as of late?

“Yeah, well, uh, you know me! I’m the pro at listening. Like, you see these ears? Always open and listening. Its my middle name actually. Well, no, my Ma picked Tyler, but if I could make it my middle name—“ And he’s off, spilling tangent by tangent. Scout looks up to see if Medic was bored of him, yet the doctor remains neutral. In fact, Scout can even see a smile forming on his face. The American nervously laughs, not used to such a positive face during his rambles.

“Ja, you are very good. It’s sweet of you, actually. ‘Keep at it’ as they say, hase.” Medic leans in, pressing lips right to Scout’s forehead. His latex hand cups his cheek as if Scout would try to run from this. The boy is completely frozen, mouth agape with those adorable buck teeth sticking out. Such a cute little bunny.

“Uh, uh, you-y-you got it, doc. I’m gonna, uh, get you back for this though. You better be ready, cause I’m a ninja. I got a black belt in kissing.” It’s actually a blue one from when he tried karate as a boy before discovering baseball. An awkward grin forms as Medic turns to leave.

“Oh, how frightening! I hope you show mercy, Herr Scout.” Medic grins, walking away as Scout tries to collect himself. He’ll be waiting for that kiss, and he certainly hopes its when Scout checks in on the doctor during his late nights in the office.

Hope you enjoyed this!! -H

Tyrosine

Rubber Touch part 2....