Work Text:
The Medic accompanies the Sniper on his next trip into town. After the month’s provisions are purchased, the Medic slips away into a tidy corner store while the Sniper refuels the jeep. When asked where he’d disappeared to, the doctor bashfully pulls out a small bouquet of coloured daisies, not mentioning the new brass lighter in his pocket.
At first, Otto wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to use it. Before the reassignment, he couldn’t stand to have flame so close to his skin. Sometimes even the heat radiating from the stove was enough to send his heart racing until he had to step outside.
It takes him a few days to work up the nerve to try. He spends an entire sleepless evening flicking the lighter open and closed, turning it over in his hands until the metal warms. There’s something hypnotizing in the control he has over the flame. He eventually lights a short-wicked candle on the windowsill and is able to fall asleep in the flickering light.
Though the MannCo. rations keep them well-stocked, Otto has never enjoyed cigarettes. But he needs something more than paperwork to unwind after the day of intense fighting. The pressure of the battles has increased. He hasn’t yet told the team of the new conditions of Respawn. The Medic figures what they don’t know won’t hurt them, as long as he does his job.
One evening, after the work of the battle is done, the doctor unlocks his desk drawer and pulls out a pipe and a tin of tobacco. The pipe is simple, made of polished, dark-stained briarwood.
He leaves his coat on the back of his chair and loosens his tie. He opens the back door and finds the Sniper and the Soldier there, as he knew he would. He would often hear them talking strategy and swapping stories on the back steps, an evening ritual.
They pause, surprised at first to see the Medic joining them. Gavin doesn’t miss a beat, resuming his tale; something about a river teeming with crocodiles as long as train cars.
Smoking a pipe requires an amount of concentration that the Sniper with his gas-station cigarettes doesn’t afford. The doctor takes a seat on the concrete steps, patiently filling the pipe. He gently presses down on the tobacco, and flicks out the brass lighter. With a few careful puffs, the pipe is lit.
The smoke is cool and aromatic as he remembers. The doctor savours the smooth, sweet flavour, feeling immediately calm. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy these minutes of quiet comradery.
"Didn’t know you smoked, Doc," the Sniper says.
Otto smiles and breathes deep, blowing a perfect smoke ring into the setting sun. “Everyone has their vices.”