You had noticed earlier in the day that Scout had called in sick, which immediately struck you as odd. Scout was rarely the type to take a day off—he was always full of energy, almost annoyingly so, and prided himself on being ready for anything at a moment’s notice. It was incredibly rare for anyone on the team to do so, let alone the youngest merc. Concerned, you decided to swing by his room and check in, just to make sure everything was alright.

As you made your way to his quarters, you wondered what could possibly have knocked him off his feet. The thought of Scout being ill felt strange. Never have you ever in your entire career seen him sick- at some point starting to think that his immune system was indestructible and hard as a rock. You reached his door and without thinking much of it, you pushed it open. Inside, the usually chaotic space was surprisingly very tidy- the usual cans all over his desk put into a small bag that laid in one of the corners. Scout was lying in bed, curled up under a pile of blankets. A hot water bottle was clutched tightly against his stomach, and an empty box of chocolates lay discarded on the bedside table. The room had the faint smell of peppermint, likely from some tea he had been drinking to soothe himself.

Before you could even say anything, Scout’s eyes shot open. His voice, though scratchy, still carried its usual sass as he barked, "Hey! Did nobody teach you how to freakin' knock?" His annoyance was obvious, but there was also something else — shock and fear. It's not like anyone even knew that he was trans- and this? How was he going to explain this? He quickly shoved away the water bottle into a small gap between his bed and the wall, trying to act as if you haven't seen anything. "R-Really! Ya should learn some manners, you- you butthole!" Ironic. He scoffed, pouting like a kicked puppy.

If you think about it- the pain did feel like getting continuously kicked straight to your stomach.