Complicated Procedures (Medic X Reader)

A Bullet to The Shoulder

He has always been so handsome. You say to yourself as you watched him run around the battlefield, trying his best to keep the team up and going.
"Right, RIGHT!" he kept yelling. At first, you cringe at the intense sound of his voice, but as you endanger yourself nearly everyday out there on the blood-splattered fields, his voice became a mist in the air and you grew to appreciate his rather strange demeanor after the many check ups you have had with him.
You looked back at the Medic and found him already meeting your way. The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, showing off a hint of a faint smile.

He ran past you and you couldn't help but feel a fluttering sensation in your gut. Aside from the fact that he is smart, witty and extremely dashing, if you could say so yourself, you found his darker side a complement to his good ones. That once sadistic, crazed laugh of his, is now, for you, one of his greatest attributes. In the back of your mind, though you try to deny it, you've always hoped that there was a chance for the both of you- a chance where you could refer to you and him as 'us'; a chance when you could just sit with him on the couch and-

BANG!

"Scheiße!" you heard Medic curse under his breath. Turning around, you nearly gasped as you found his one sleeve completely soaked in blood. He tried to stand up but was pinned down by an enemy Heavy's foot.
He took a bullet to the shoulder, while your Heavy took one to the head, apparently shot by a Sniper.
You knew you had to do something or Medic is going to die.
"Haha! Cry some more!" the Russian jeered as he stuck a finger inside that one bullet wound on his shoulder.
"Ach!!" Medic yelled in pain, trying to get the man off him. You felt enraged that someone has not only shot the Medic, but is taking a great deal of his time making the man suffer.
You weren't thinking right anymore, logic was damned and you picked up a sniper's rifle, aiming it at the Heavy.
You didn't knew how to properly hold a rifle. You just imitated the bushman whenever you see him take a shot. Quickly, you placed a finger on the trigger and fired, a deafening report filled the space around you as the bullet went flying, hitting the Russian's neck instead of his head, which was where you really had intended to hit.

Getting that over with, you ran to Medic's side but instantly realized that your shoulder hurt really bad from that shot you fired. The impact from the gun must've hit you harder than you thought. The limb refused to move and would hurt pretty bad if you tried. Maybe it's broken? (I don't really know which guns have that effect on the human body, so yeah, just go with it XD)
You thought to yourself when you heard another groan coming from the Medic. How rude! You nearly forgot about him.

"Medic, quickly! We have to take you to the respawn room- you're hurt!"

"Nein," he said, trying to stand, "just get me zhe medigun, I'll be fine."

Reluctantly, you followed his bidding, not wanting to agitate his condition. You handed him his apparatus and he looked at a hand over your shoulder.

"You seem to be hurt, Fraülein," he stated with a disturbed look on his face, "vait a moment and I vill heal you."

You watched him strap the device on his back, and in no time, he activated the medigun and pointed it at you. The energy coursed in and around you, renewing your being. You also tried to move your injured shoulder, only to find, with relief, that it was fine once more and was working like magic.

"Thanks doctor." you smiled at him as he healed himself with a medikit lying around. He nodded in acknowledgment and went on his way. You couldn't unsee the way his eyes twinkled when he looked at you-those eyes! Ugh, all he has to do is look at you and you'll be lost in his gaze. It was like a malicious magic he was casting whenever he'd turn those blue orbs into your own.

Although, not long after your little incident, the Administrator announced that your team won, capturing all the points and defending it against the enemy. What luck! For a moment, you thought you were screwed, but things seemed to turn out for the better just when you needed it the most.

Time Skip

In the base, you were pretty happy of your team's victory not more than three hours ago. Most of you celebrated, but there were three people that you normally would see around at these kinds of events: Demo, Scout and Heavy, and Heavy was always with the doctor of the team. Unfortunately, when you scanned the place, you saw no sign of the German anywhere. He was missing out on all the fun, and so were you. But you didn't care. You just needed to know where he was, make sure he was ok, doing well and-

Your legs stopped in front of the infirmary door, finding it odd that it is slightly ajar. You remind yourself that this was Medic's office in hopes of keeping those feet of yours away, but instead, you reeled in closer, enjoying each step as it takes you closer to the entrance. Closer to him.

What you found soon afterwards puts you in a state of both confusion and excitement. You found him with his back faced to you, sorting out his bloodied medical equipment. But this wasn't the reason you felt the heat on your cheeks.

"He's not wearing a shirt!" you thought to yourself, biting your lower lip as you looked about his back with great detail. You scanned him and wondered if he'll look even better if he-

"No, (Y/N)!" you scolded yourself, ashamed of even thinking such things. And yet, you continued peeking, all for the fun of it, but your smile faded as he shifted a bit and your eyes fixed themselves on his right shoulder.

There was a nasty scar on the spot, a bullet wound margined by red, upset flesh. Then you saw him struggle as he tried to patch himself up. He tried so hard to no avail, that is, until he saw you standing by his door.

"Ah, Fraülein," he greeted, "bitte, I need your help, zhat is, if it's not much trouble on your part."

"O-of course Doc." you quietly replied, shocked that he wasn't at all disturbed by your presence on his doorway.

After he told you his instructions, you followed them diligently and patched his wound up with gauze.

"Danke, Fraülein," he sighed, reaching over to his rack and putting on a smock gown, "I vas struggling vith zhat."

"Don't worry 'bout it, doc." you told him.

"Anyvay, vhat vere you doing outside my door?" he asked curiously, sitting down on a chair.

"I...I was...I was going to see if you were...you know, alright?" you stuttered, hoping the red on your cheeks have flushed away.

"Ah, vell, I am, ja?" he replied quietly, his eyes fixed on the papers.
You knew he was busy and decided to make your way out when he suddenly called out your name.

You turned to see him, and he opens his mouth to speak. But he then thinks better of it and decides to drop the idea.

"Nevermind," he whispers, "just go. Danke."

You nodded and parted with a sad smile. You felt bad that he sent you away. But what was he about to say?

"Oh, well. I guess I'll never know."