Requested by->
@PlasticTaste_
Battles could be tough. People constantly were faced with loosing their lives, their loves, and their limbs. As a medic, it was your job to help when those things happened.
You'd saved lives, you'd saved limbs, but couldn't really account for saving loves. Relationships were a risky thing to invest in when lives were so easy to loose. If anyone dare devote themselves to a relationship, they had to be prepared for the fact that their partner may die, and nothing could stop that. (Of course, excluding a certain winged someone.)
In your years of working with Overwatch, you'd seen far too many families torn apart by death and violence to want one of your own anyways. It would lead to sadness. You could not let yourself get attached— you had a job to do. You served the people. You could not allow for distractions of your occupation. You didn't need a lover in the person you'd sew up, nor a romantic commitment in someone bleeding out in your arms. Everyone would be your patient, and if something happened to them, your grief would not linger. Though you did this calculatingly, you remained friendly towards your patients. You would smile and laugh with them, and if they were to die, you'd pretend they'd been discharged. You couldn't handle another heartbreak after the death of your parents.
This way of life is what kept you safe in Overwatch. Though the intention of halting as much death as you could was your primary focus when you'd joined the medical career, now you simply ran from the emotional hurt that came with it. Death was inevitable when one's forte was battle.
Even as you lived day-to-day with this resolve, it did little to stop your unfortunately keen heart around one of your coworkers. Reinhardt.
He was a large man, standing at 7'8 feet (2.23m) tall. He was the tallest on the team, and that reason made him rather intimidating to talk to, despite his friendly personality. Though most of the team didn't hang out with you due to your usually quiet nature, Reinhardt constantly went out of his way to brighten your day. His grin was small compared to the rest of him, but whenever it appeared, it felt bigger than Earth to you. It made your heart beat faster, your palms sweat, and the constant need to shift from foot-to-foot arise in you.
You couldn't help but crush on him. The blush that appeared alongside him was something you couldn't control, and you wouldn't fight it so long as you could still bear to part with him should something happen. Of course, you always told yourself you could.
You'd be fine.
But now, as you stood next to a white hospital bed stained red, tightly clutching your clip board and listening to the quiet beeps of the heart monitor, you knew the man had grown too much on you for that to be true.
An ambush by Talon had put Rein critically injured into your care, and as of now, it was unknown if he were to survive. The entirety of the medical bay had been cleared for you and your patient. Only his shallow breaths, your anxious and sudden inhales and exhales, the beeps of the heart monitor, and the distant wailing of an alarm that signaled that the crew was to be on full defense occupied the sterile air. Reinhardt hadn't been but a short distance from the ship when he was attacked, and that could mean a full ambush by Talon any minute. The crew was scared, and you were too. They feared for their own safety, and you feared for Reinhardt's.
You couldn't let this man die.
Yet, as you stood next to his large form cloaked in grief and worry, you knew it was out of your hands if he expired. This realization hit you hard. You were not in control of this situation. Even if you wanted him to live, he may not.
Tears welled up in your eyes once again, and numbly you fell into a sit on the edge of the bed. The tears left you, and with a shaky breath, a sob escaped. You rubbed your eyes, ignoring the blood on your hands from patching him up. It was just you and the dying man, it wasn't like anyone could tease you.
Was hope lost? After him, you'd have no friends. You already had no remaining family. The crew was kind, but you knew you'd never allow yourself to get close to them. You'd be truly alone in this world, but.., is that what you really wanted?
Your response to this came quickly-
no.
You didn't want to be alone.
You wanted to love, even if it killed you. That was the human experience, wasn't it?
You could not choose if he lived or died, but, you could sure as hell point the odds in life's favor.
With a newfound determination, you stood, hurriedly wiping your eyes once more and analyzing the room at the ready. Gauze. You needed more gauze. Also, he would need stitches on his cheek. The wound was wide open, and could easily infect and kill him in such a fragile state.
Your mind fell into a chaotic determination, and your feet and hands moved on pure instinct. You'd seen people in worse condition. You could save him. You could do it. You would do it.
Half an hour later, covered in a cold sweat and fresh blood, you took a seat on the bed next to Reinhardt once more. The blood made you nervous, but you'd sealed every wound you could find to your best ability. Hopefully, the blood had clotted.
The heart monitor hadn't wavered, and because of that, your hope refused to also.
The room fell quiet once more, but soon the eerie background noise of the sirens arose to your attention once again. They had grown to a screech, and distantly you heard something uncomfortably alike an explosion. It was loud, but didn't overpower the alarms. Your fears were confirmed as the ground beneath you rocked, and a glass holding syringes fell and broke next to you. You hissed quietly when a piece of glass lodged into your lower calf. But, you barely paid it mind, as you now knew that a full-on Talon attack was upon you.
Being attacked while trapped in here would not go well for you, nor Rein. But, you wouldn't be able to move him. He'd have to walk, and that seemed like a bad idea considering he was knocked out. You could always fight back, but at your disposal you only had a week of pistol training and a clip of ammo in a drawer. You doubted that a single clip would do much, but you could hope.
You turned to the drawer in mind, rummaging through it until a small, sleek pistol was revealed. You wrapped your hand around the odd object carefully, then began popping bullets into it.
As you finished this, you heard a creak from by the bed. Automatically, you pointed the now loaded gun in your hands at the noise. When you turned, your heart leaped into your throat. Reinhardt was conscious, sitting up, and appeared extremely disoriented and flushed.
You couldn't find words. You had questions. You needed his stats. He needed to know what was going on. You had to get to a safer destination. Could he walk?
For a long moment, you both remained silent and confused as you pointed to weapon towards him. Realizing you may be alarming in such a stance, you put the gun onto the counter and placed your hands up in a surrendering pose.
When your words made an appearance, they came out slowly and calmly. "Reinhardt, Talon is attacking the base. Can you walk?" You hesitantly asked, turning and tucking the gun into your waist band.
Reinhardt simply said your name, looking somewhat unattached and confused.
"Yes?" You looked to him, the room becoming eerily still.
"Thank you," The man said, almost shyly. Light returned to his eyes. "They were going to kill me."
You offered him a small smile. "Hey now, you aren't out of the woods yet. Besides, thank Genji and Winston for getting you out of there, I just patched you up." You gently reminded him.
He nodded, moving each of his fingers as if to make sure they weren't broken. "I can try to walk. Where would be our destination?" He voiced.
"A safe room. The one down the hall." You replied.
He nodded, looking grim as he shifted under the covers. The fact that he'd just come out of a small surgery without anesthetics was obviously making itself known, and the man looked to be in greivious pain. But, here his pain would be worse should Talon get ahold of him.
You stepped forwards, offering him a hand. Usually he'd make a joke about chivalry, or perhaps wink at you, but now he simply shot you a thankful look as he shifted out of the bed.
After a minute or two of struggled breathing, calming words, a crutch, and new bandages, Reinhardt was on his feet. One of his large arms was draped over your shoulder, and the other was glued to a metal crutch for support. His breathing had become shallow again, and the heart monitor beeped wildly from his efforts. Quietly, you took ivs and various patches off him.
As you did this, despite the tense atmosphere, Reinhardt watched you carefully, as if no time was passing. Like he was memorizing your face. His eyes were somewhat distant, but would focus at random points. He was certainly facing some sort of physical shock.
When you finished disconnecting him from the various medical supplies, you finally spoke again.
"Hey, don't look at me like that. Let's get to the safe room, alright?" You murmured, despising the small blush that had started to form on your face.
"I- uh, yes." The boisterous man agreed, seeming rather clammy in the situation as well.
You both began a slow journey towards the door, and his arm made it's way to your shoulder once again for support. His left leg looked to be broken, now that he was moving. After the tediously slow journey to the door had ended, you stepped ahead, carefully placing your thumb on the scanner to open the door. Seamlessly, it opened, revealing a thankfully empty hallway.
You let out a small breath. Maybe this would go about quickly.
Your hopes were dashed as you heard the fire of an automatic gun echo from up the hallway.
Your heart sank, and you glanced to Reinhardt, who was stoically gazing towards the noise with a detached look.
"Hurry." You advised, nudging him in the opposite way of the gun fire. The safe room wasn't far.
He nodded. "Get in front of me as we walk, we can't risk you taking a bullet to the spine." He said, almost jokingly, as he took his free hand and to maneuver you ahead of him.
You went the argue this move, but you knew it would be a waste of time. He'd taken a lot of damage in his life, and even now he would risk more. If he died for you, it may make your life harder than if he'd died of his previous injuries.
The two of you slowly worked up the hall, but froze every few moments to listen between the screams of the siren for danger. Thus far, you'd only heard more gunfire. But, now as you both paused to listen, you heard a voice.
"Stay where you are, or i'll shoot!" Came the demanding female tone.
Your head whipped to the noise, and you drew your own weapon. You ducked under Reinhardt's arm, and aimed at it. The source was a female Talon member, equipped with some sort of rifle. Her feet were planted slightly apart, and both eyes stared at you mercilessly from behind the gun.
Without regret, you fired. Just once.
Before she could return fire, the bullet lodged into her collar bone. She shrieked, and the angry sound echoed in the hallway. It wasn't a kill shot, but without medical attention it could be.
"Rein, go." You almost begged, the gun still trained at the woman now yelling crude words at you. Stress was making your head pound, and the woman wasn't helping. You were both mere feet from the safe room, you could be sealed off within the minute. You had to hurry.
"It's my job to protect you." He argued, lightheartedly.
"I can protect myself. Go. I'm right behind you, alright?" You voice softened as you completed your sentence, the inward fear of having to defend yourself wavering. Luck was on your side with that shot, but may not hold when her coworkers arrived. You had to get moving.
You heard a soft, tired laugh from Reinhardt. "Alright, my love."
"What was that?" You demanded, your face flushing.
"Nothing!" Rein chirped, opening the door to the safe room.