Chapter Text
The battle for the reclaiming of Shiganshina was brutal, extra doctors and nurses were rushed to save as many soldiers as they could. Among these extra doctors was y/n, she had been working with people in the underground up until the reclaiming mission. She started her medical career helping a back door doctor three years ago for people in the underground who couldn't afford other treatment.
However, when news got back that the reclaiming mission had somehow worked people were ecstatic to help the scouts anyway they could. Saying the mission was a success was closer to a lie than truth though. When y/n got to the space where she would be working the foul stench of death was all she could focus on.
Bodies of soldiers barely whole laid out, doctors and nurses desperately trying to find any sign of life within the people who had put their lives on the line to reclaim the lost land. Y/n pulled her mask over her mouth and nose, but escaping the rotting smell of corpses wasn't so easy. She walked past the bodies laid out around her, there was no need to check if they were alive if massive holes littered their torsos.
She noticed movement on one of the makeshift sleeping bags on the floor, a tuft of red hair poked out from the blankets. She approached the body and gently nudged it with her foot, "are you alive?" She asked coldly.
"Unfortunately" a raspy voice came from under the blanket.
"Well then you need to move, laying surrounded by dead bodies isn't healthy" she nudged harder hoping to get him out of the blankets. He didn't budge, she sighed before squatting down next to him, "I need to check your injuries."
"I don't have any" he groaned, clearly trying to cover the sounds of his weeping. She stood up and stared down at the lump in the blanket deciding her next move, "just leave me alone" he pleaded. She clicked her tongue before outright kicking him in the side.
"If you have no injuries and you're not dead you need to get out of here" she was annoyed enough being dragged to this, the corpses outnumbered the survivors and she didn't want to get signed up to deal with the dead. She had other work she could be doing helping the people who actually needed it.
The redhead pulled the blanket off of his face, tears stained his cheeks as he refused to look the girl in the eyes. He slowly stood up in front of her, his scouts uniform still on and drenched in blood.
"You're bleeding?" She asked, inspecting him with her eyes.
"It's not mine, I carried the commander and he bled a lot on me" he looked down at his feet as he spoke, fists shaking on either side of him.
"I'd like to check and make sure you don't have any wounds or broken bones, the adrenalin could still be clouding your perception" she looped her finger around the belt over his chest, tugging him along to the area of the room where beds and medical supplies had been set up.
"I'm fine, everyone else died" he swallowed trying not to cry, "everyone died and I didn't even get hit by a pebble" he limply followed behind her as they walked past the rows of corpses toward the beds.
"Sit down" she ordered, letting go of him in front of one of the beds, each one surrounded by cloth hanging from the ceiling for privacy, she closed the entrance way flap. The boy did as he was told, still whimpering to himself about the last few hours he had suffered through. She grabbed her clipboard she had left on the table within the cloth cubicle.
"I'm not injured," he muttered, holding his head in his hands.
"I just want to make sure that's true," she said, taking her pen in her hand, "your name?" She asked ready to write down his answer.
"Floch Forster" he mumbled into his palms. He listened to the sound of the pen scratching against the paper, he tried to focus on that instead of the crying happening outside beyond the cloth walls.
"Age?" She looked up at him from the paper, he didn't look too much younger than herself.
"Sixteen" he crossed one foot over the other, watching his boots from between his fingers. The simple questions and the sound of writing was starting to calm him down.
"Do you know your weight and height?" She asked, leaning against the metal table her clipboard had been on.
"I'm five feet eight inches I think" he said kicking his feet under the bed, "I'm not sure about my weight, maybe 150lbs" he closed his eyes and listened to her write. She was definitely writing more down than just the numbers he gave her, Floch was curious about what she was writing but thankful for the soothing sound nonetheless.
"Thank you Mr. Forster" she said followed by the clanking of the clipboard hitting the table. The sound jerked his eyes back open, his head up from his palms to look in the direction of the sound. She pulled gloves over her hands, Floch got his first real look at the girl since she stumbled upon him. She was average height, her hair was pulled back behind her head and a mask covered half her face. He found her stern eyes both intimidating and beautiful.
"What are you doing?" He said in a low voice as she approached him.
"I need to check you for any injuries, if you have any cuts you're at risk for an infection" she stood in front of him, he thought her eyes weren't very kind for a doctor, "do I need to cut your clothes off?" She asked, raising a brow.
Floch shook his head no before removing his jacket, he placed it beside him on the bed. He awkwardly fumbled with the buckles on his uniform as she stood over him watching. Once he undid the buckles he was able to pull his shirt from his body, peeling the sweat and blood covered fabric from his skin.
"Thank you" her tone was cold, uninterested, the way she spoke confused him. Why did she drag him over here to check him for wounds almost against his will just for her to act like he was bothering her. The cold of her gloved hands brought his mind out of his thoughts. She moved his arms and fingers making sure none of his bones were broken. Then she gingerly checked his skin for any damage.
"I told you I wasn't injured" he spat as she moved behind him to check his back, she didn't respond instead she pressed hard against a large bruise on his shoulder blade making him cry out in sudden pain. Floch snapped his head back to yell at her, but he couldn't find the words and merely growled like a wounded animal.
"Said you carried someone?" She asked, her tone and body language unaffected by his defensive movement and guttural noise. Floch nodded his head yes watching her walk back to the table in front of him, she removed her gloves and disposed of them into a can below the table. She picked up the clipboard and began writing again, Floch found himself getting mesmerized watching and listening to her write.
She side eyed him as she jotted down her notes, she noted his behavior as well as the large bruises on his back. She stopped writing as her eyes fell on his hazel orbs, he was intently watching the pen hit the paper eyes glossed over as if she was hypnotizing him. At the sudden pause he looked back up into her eyes, she shifted her attention back to writing quickly as Floch nervously fidgeted with his jacket beside him.
"I need you to remove your pants as well, in case you injured your legs" she said putting the clipboard down again, he shuddered at the harsh clanking noise.
"Okay" he said sheepishly as he started undoing his pants, he looked up at her embarrassed and she rolled her eyes before turning to face the cloth wall. Floch removed his shoes then pulled his pants off making sure his underwear was fully covering him, he was suddenly reminded he had pissed himself during the charge.
"Are you ready?" She asked with an annoyed tone, Floch nervously sat back on the bed and placed his jacket over his crotch before responding.
"Y-yeah" he mumbled, she quickly turned around and got a new pair of gloves. He watched as she stretched the rubber gloves over her fingers then palms. Floch listened keenly to the sound of her skin on the rubber trying to focus on anything other than his piss stained underwear.
"I'm going to check for broken bones again first, you walked over here without any issue but I still want to make sure everything is okay" she said taking his left ankle in her hand, she gently rolled the joint with her hand before giving his foot a firm squeeze, "does anything hurt?" She asked, pressing down and bending each toe against his foot.
"No, everything feels fine," he said, watching her hands on his skin. He tried holding in any reaction to the slight tickling feeling of the rubber on the sole of his foot. She moved her hands up his calf, gently massaging it as she moved up. She could feel how sore his muscles were, still no wounds though.
"I'm going to bend your knee then check your reflexes okay?" She looked at his face, he nodded wearing a timid expression. She gently bent his leg back then pulled it forward to fully extend it, Floch showed no signs of pain as she did so. She rested his leg back then harshly hit his knee causing him to kick his leg, "left side seems fine" she said moving to his right ankle to repeat the process.
"Shouldn't you be helping someone who is actually hurt?" Floch asked as she massaged up his right calf muscle.
"I am helping someone who is hurt" she responded in a soft monotone voice before beginning her examination of his right knee. Once again his other leg was perfectly fine, "lay down on your back, I'm going to check your chest and stomach" she removed her gloves discarding them in the can, "Apologies if it's uncomfortable to lay on that bruise."
"I can't even feel it" he sighed laying down, the bed was stiff and uncomfortable. He readjusted the jacket covering himself as he changed his position on the bed.
"Here" she said, pulling a blanket over his legs, "you can cover up to your hips, okay?" she turned back to her clipboard, Floch closed his eyes listening to her write. She seemed to be writing slower than she had earlier, drawing out each letter and word slowly and carefully. The soft yet harsh sound of the pen scratching over the paper made his eyes and body tired.
Then came the clank that jolted the sleep away from him, he opened his eyes but didn't look at her. He stared up at the ceiling of the old building listening to her put new gloves on. He heard her footsteps approaching him as she pulled the gloves over her fingers. Suddenly her cold touch was on his chest.
"I'm worried you may have broken a rib carrying someone heavier than you on your back" she spoke firmly and clearly, articulating her words well. Floch just laid still as her fingers pressed against each one of his ribs. Nothing felt wrong or hurt, so he just waited for her to finish. Soon her hands were checking his shoulders, she noticed another bruise on his shoulder close to his neck and stabbed her thumb into it and earned a yelp from the boy.
"Are you done now?" He hissed as she stepped back to the table.
"Yes, I've concluded you only have minor injuries from improperly carrying dead weight on your back, you don't feel it yet" she turned to face him, "but come tomorrow you're going to be extremely sore" she dropped the last pair of gloves into the can and began writing the last of her notes down. Floch started sitting up on the bed, "don't get up" she looked at him.
"Why?" He didn't make eye contact, instead looking past her as he spoke.
"I'll get you clean clothes in a minute, don't put that filth back on" she scowled at the bloody and muddy uniform. Floch just sighed and watched her, the curiosity of what she was writing about him was threatening to slip out of his mouth.
"Who are the notes for?" He asked running his fingers through his hair, the feeling of dirt and sweat clinging to the strands felt gross on his hand.
"Your commanding officers, and whoever is in charge of the scouts medically" she said, not looking up from the paper.
"You don't usually work for the scouts?" He asked, wiping his hand off on his jacket.
"No, I work in a clinic currently" she put the clipboard down on the table and looked at the redhead, "I normally work in the underground wrapping up stab wounds from bar fights honestly" she shrugged before heading to the opening flap in the cloth wall, "I'll be right back with something clean for you to wear" she said in her kindest tone yet as she left him alone in the small space.
The sounds from outside the thin walls were no longer being drowned out by her voice or the sounds of her working, Floch was left with his thoughts as well as the crying and screams from his fellow scouts beyond the cloth walls. He laid down on his side facing the table, his eyes scanned over the clipboard and his curiosity about it peaked yet again. He slowly got off the bed and peered down at the page, in hard to read scribbles his information was laid out in a well organized way. Beneath his basic information was her analysis of him and his injuries.
"You should be resting, not snooping" her voice felt like cold metal against his eardrums. He turned to look at her, she had silently slipped back in with folded clothes wrapped in her arms, "there's fresh underwear as well" she placed the pile of clothes on the edge of the bed, "once you've changed bring your dirty clothes out, there's a basket right next to the door" she paused and thought for a moment, "or whatever you want to call this thing" she said tugging at the cloth opening before waving goodbye and slipping out.
Floch waited a few minutes before changing, the feeling of clean clothes on his skin felt nice. He would have preferred if he could have showered before changing though. When he finished he stepped outside, trying not to focus on anything he located the basket and quickly retreated to the safe space locked within the cloth room. Floch wrapped himself up in the blanket she had given him and eventually let sleep take him.