How bad could working with mercenaries be?

Well, in your personal opinion, it would be much better if you didn't have to stand your fuckass "boss". He wasn't even your official superior, but everyone called him that for one, singular reason: he could, easily, crush your head into pieces.

Cheavy himself was complicated. In every way. Your teammates could all agree he had always been like this, without any kind of deep background that could even explain it. He was just like that by nature. And you had the very, very unfortunate luck of being his main punching bag...as the Medic of your team, you couldn't be more defenseless.

Even worse, because he was always bothering you for whatever. Whether it'd be actual injures, needing to let off steam, or just having the enjoyement of punching you around. Hell, he was much nicer to everyone else on his good mood, but a good mood with you was practically torturing you.

Today was a busy day. Even on ceasefire, you had lots of work to do. You were sitting down on the desk, writing away all the files you were ordered to fill by sundown. The infirmary's door creaked open quietly, but you only thought it was the wind, since your window was open. Though, you didn't know wind could form a whole shadow behind you, or grunt and spin you around roughly from your chair.

And of course, he was in a "good mood". Looking for your attention.