Mercenary Hell || TF2 Reader Inserts

Delirious || Scout

RED!Scout x RED!Fem!Reader
Reader Class - Engineer

CW: Drug and Surgery Mentions

A/N - I have had at least 5 Scout requests by DM, and I would like to say: You guys have some impeccable taste. I would also officially like to go on record as saying that at least 70% of this was written between the hours of 1-5am, my sleep schedule is broken and all I have to show for it is poorly written fanfictions.
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Being a mercenary wasn't all it was cracked up to be. It could be an exhausting job, even at the best of times. Take, for instance, ceasefire days. You could be spending your day off tinkering away in the workshop and trading banter with your fellow engineer.

Instead, you were running around the base like a headless chicken to tend to whims and put out fires for your colleagues. In some cases, the fires were literal, especially if you were dealing with the likes of Pyro. Granted, helping out the others was a rewarding feeling, but sometimes your sheer exhaustion outweighed the words of gratitude.

You exited Pyro's room, panting and covered in soot as you slumped over, trying to catch your breath. For the third time that day, you had been summoned to his room to put out yet another fire. With a sigh, you ran your fingers through your now unruly [h/c] hair, making a mental note to fix the sprinkler system when you had a spare moment. When that moment would present itself, you weren't entirely certain. Surely though, there would be some spare time somewhere in the near future.

However, this was not the time to be thinking of that. You had things to do, tasks to get on with. Shaking your head, you stood to full attention, procuring a small scrap of paper from your pocket. It had been roughed around the edges and burnt slightly in one corner, but the words could still be seen, albeit not that clearly.

Squinting, you tried to make out your own handwriting; you often wrote so quickly that it would become close to illegible, especially towards the ends of your sentences. According to your list, almost everything had been done. You and Engie had fixed the teleporters together, Sniper had gotten his desired weapon modifications, and more parts had been ordered for future projects. Now, if you weren't mistaken, there was only one task left to do. Frowning, you traced your finger down the list, struggling to recall your schedule.

You squinted, struggling to make out the words that were written in your messy, cramped handwriting. Asin- No, Assist? Assist... Medic.

"Assist Medic," you whispered to yourself, feeling your stomach drop at the thought.

You had almost forgotten you owed him a favour. He had saved you spectacularly on the battlefield last week, coming in with an Übercharge at just the right moment. Had he been a second later, you would have been sent back to respawn and the team would've lost.

Owing Medic a favour was never a good thing, especially for you. You liked the guy well enough, but he could be... Unorthodox in his practices, to put it lightly. The last time you had participated in one of his experiments, you had ended up having to replace your kidneys with mechanical equivalents.

You checked your watch, jolting as the display flashed back at you angrily. You ought to have been there nearly fifteen minutes ago! Pyro had set you way off course from your schedule, leaving you with no time for a lunch break. If you were quick, you could possibly grab an apple, or a can of Bonk! in place of lunch before tearing off to the medbay.