#so it would be appropriate for Zofia to have some first aid skills no?

[children-of-epiales]

⛑ - Some tender first-aid

(For any oc of your choosing, I'm happy to read them all ♡)

Anything for you!

*****

 The moment she sensed someone reaching for her, Reaper quickly swiped at them with her good arm. “ I’m fine!” She shouted with more fire than she wanted. 

The operator scrambled back onto her feet, making herself dizzy enough that she would fall again; there wasn’t anything she could have done to prevent the event herself except grab onto the grainy texture of the wall, the strong pair of hands that grabbed onto her shoulders and pulled her up was not part of the plan. 

Reaper found herself being roughly guided out of the kill house, in the direction of where she knew the medical bay would be. 

“ You are so clumsy for someone who’s supposed to be stealthy-one of the things that you could afford to work on.” 

The brunette herself froze and stumbled over her own feet, and Zofia, clearly trying to be patient hence her keeping her gaze ahead, muttered something in Polish that started out loud enough for both of the women to hear, only to end as a whisper. “ So clumsy-you’re lucky your team leader isn’t here right now.” The older operator’s tone oozed disappointment and something else Reaper was afraid to think about while they walked off of the field. 

“ I’m really sorry-” The Canadian started chattering, having forgotten whatever else it was she needed to say. “ I can walk just fine, I don’t need to go-”

“ Quiet.” 

Reaper shut her mouth immediately and it didn’t take long for her to realize why Zofia insisted on walking all the way with her to the medical bay, with the blood on head reaching her right eye and the orientation of everything switching here and there. Realizing she hit her head so badly only intensified the brunette’s embarrassment, giving her one more reason not to speak around Zofia-perhaps even not to speak ever again.

“ Doc isn’t here.” Zofia noticed aloud before she sat Reaper down. “ I’ll patch you up, then.”

The statement forced the Canadian out of her short vow of silence. “What?” She objected with more shock than she meant. “ I mean-that wasn’t an insult-but you’re not…” She shrugged her shoulders, somehow mixing up physician with medic. She personally didn’t care about the difference, Thunderbird may as well have been a doctor to her.

“ You think because I’m in a combat position, that I cannot provide first aid?” Zofia inquired, her arms firmly crossed for only a moment. “ Just as you-a medical professional-also take on a position to gather intel and take out enemies, such as Nøkk does? I didn’t take you for someone who overlooks details.”

Reaper bit her bottom lip to keep her mouth from falling open, the painful action eventually failing her when she watched Zofia start working as if she were Doc, Thunderbird, or herself. 

Despite how good that uniform looked on her, the Canadian thought a white coat might look good on the Polish woman as well; really, to her at least, Zofia could make any article of clothing look like it was made by a fashion designer. If only she would take off the sunglasses the brunette came to despise because she couldn’t always see Zofia’s pretty brown eyes. 

“Hold still-” Zofia’s fingers pressed securely into Reaper’s chin before she started tending to the latter’s head wound. 

After a few seconds of silence, the Polish woman yielded first. “ In the kill house, you were fighting even before I had to manhandle you…”

“ I panicked,” Reaper pretended to focus on the floor, knowing she might just get caught if she stared too long at the older woman. “ It’s been a weird week.” 

Without allowing any time to pass first, Zofia spoke again. “ What do you consider a ‘weird week’?”  

She turned to dispose of the used materials, giving Reaper a nice view of her hair and her neck. There were only a few hairs sticking out the end of her bun and not a bobby pin in sight; just one more thing to add onto the endless list of perfect things about Zofia. 

The women heard voices in the hallway. When Reaper turned but couldn’t see who it was, the operator slightly leaned forward, unintentionally helping some blood dripped from her hand onto the floor. 

Zofia spotted it before she did and reached for the brunette’s hand, this time with a little less strength. 

A combination of a nasty abrasion and a bruise overlapped each other above the wrist. “ So clumsy…” Zofia muttered in disappointment again as she went to work on the wound. “ Won’t you answer my question?” She said more audibly again.

“ Yeah, a weird week…” Reaper didn’t want to find herself at a loss for words once again. “ Yet there she was. 

Zofia looked up at the latter from behind her sunglasses. Knowing Zofia would lose any and all respect for her was what kept the brunette from leaving the room. 

“ Sometimes, sometimes things happen-” Reaper found herself saying, “-and when they happen, there’s nothing I can do to make the rest of the week better.”

She watched the spot between Zofia’s eyebrows crinkle. “ Your team doesn’t make the week better? I’ve seen you all together-there are two versions of you that I’ve seen so far.”

“ This is different.” The Canadian managed to control her tone this time, remembering that Zofia didn’t understand. 

“ If you say so.” 

Reaper didn’t know what else to do besides continue to watch Zofia, her cheeks turned red when it hit the former that she had to explain her feelings about something she wasn’t good at talking about. How Zofia could make such a simple statement without judgment, the younger operator couldn’t comprehend.

Maybe that sort of thing only came as time passed. 

“ To be frank-” Zofia sat up straight after she finished, “-there were other mistakes I watched you make in the kill house, but I’m not your team leader. If you don’t want to hear it from me, I won’t say anything.”

“ I do wanna hear it from you.” Reaper responded quickly. Lucky for her, Zofia didn’t know much about her, so it was a given that the Pole would mistake the response as an eagerness to improve. 

Zofia seemed to have no issue obliging the Canadian, immediately listing off the mistakes starting from the first second they were together in the kill house: “strange” footing, not checking around corners properly, not covering teammates’ backs properly, and being messy when taking down enemies. 

It almost did hurt Reaper to listen; there was no ego, it was knowing she was actually so bad at what she thought she did best. What she thought was the only thing she could do well.

“ Don’t be so sad, Reaper.” Zofia’s request snapped the Canadian out of her thoughts. “ An opportunity to improve is good.”

This time around, Reaper didn’t dare try to explain how her strongest need impacted her work. No matter if this was something Zofia might actually be able to understand, or even be familiar with herself. 

“ You should stay here.” The Pole added as she stood up. “ When Doc comes back, he should make sure your wounds have been properly cared for.” 

“ My wounds were properly cared for.” Reaper objected. 

Zofia turned and shot the younger operator a terrible look from behind her sunglasses. 

Reaper’s eyes grew and her bottom remained in the seat. She watched Zofia leave without saying anything else, and she dropped her head into her hands, unable to believe how terribly she just embarrassed herself.