Reaper despised his visits to the medical wing. It was beyond aggravating, to say the least. As a seasoned soldier, he believed he didn't require medical attention after every mission. However, Doomfist had made it clear that if he refused to go, he would be prohibited from any further missions until he did. Reluctantly, he complied.

Yet, that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the presence of a new medic. He had grown accustomed to Moira, not because he particularly liked her, but because he knew what to expect from her. If Moira had any intentions of eliminating him, she would have done so already. But you? He had no knowledge of who you were. Moira had practically pushed him into the medical room, claiming she had other matters to attend to, leaving him alone with you.

With a sigh, Reaper reluctantly settled himself onto the medical table, his piercing gaze fixed upon you from beneath his ominous mask. "Don't even think about trying anything," he growled, his narrowed eyes conveying his lack of trust. He would allow you to perform your duties, but that didn't mean he had to place his faith in you.