Chapter Text
The car is completely silent as Owen is driven to the base. There is nothing really to say to the soldier driving him and asking for the radio to be put on might be a little too intimate. He leans back in his seat and moves a lock of stray red hair away from his glasses.
Owen did not want to be reassigned to a new unit. It's unnecessary but apparently they require a doctor and not many other people want to be assigned to the 141. He admittedly doesn't know much about 141 except for the fact that the infamous Ghost is part of the unit. The sniper is the main reason nobody wants to work alongside that unit. A stone cold killer with no empathy. If Owen was a little bit more optimistic then he would dismiss such claims. However he did take a brief dip into psychology and people like that do exist. It makes perfect sense someone like that would be part of the SAS.
The car stops with a slight jolt and Owen gets out. He opens up the boot of the car and takes out his two suitcases. His entire life has been packed into these matte black cases but the doctor is used to it by now so it's not much of an issue.
A middle aged man with short brown hair and a thick beard approaches him. "Captain John Price." He offers a gloved hand. Are 141 constantly in tactical gear?
"Doctor Owen O'Reilly." He shakes the man's hand.
"Irish?"
"Dublin."
Price nods his head, "Follow me." The captain walks off and Owen naturally follows. A few recruits watch them walk past and the doctor ignores them. He doesn't want to deal with the staring already.
The medical office and joined sleeping quarters that now belong to Owen are small but impressively equipped. The smell of cheap disinfectant that's vaguely scented like lemons wafts through the air and Owen is rather glad he's wearing a mask. He's never been able to enjoy that sterile smell. Owen wheels his cases into his living space and sees that he has a small TV and DVD player which is an upgrade from the previous task force. Price leaves to let him settle in and assumedly round up 141 to meet their new doctor. Unpacking is always easier than packing so he makes quick work of sorting everything out.
Price returns with a man about an hour later as Owen sets up his medical office. The doctor looks over to see a man about three inches shorter than him with a small brown mohawk standing next to Price. He has a bright smile and is also dressed in tactical gear. The soldier steps forward and offers a hand, "Johnny MacTavish but you can just call me Soap." The Scottish accent is a nice surprise. Owen had been hoping that he wouldn't be surrounded by Englishmen.
"Doctor Owen O'Reilly." He shakes Soap's hand then immediately returns back to his work. There's no time for pleasantries and idle chat at the moment.
"Oh thank fucking God." Soap mutters. "If you were another English bastard I would've killed someone."
"Well that is your job." Owen finishes setting up his computer and readies the medical files of 141 to read over. "I have to admit Captain, I was expecting a bigger task force."
"The others aren't as sociable as MacTavish. You'll see them around at some point." Price replies. "I believe König has a medical exam this afternoon."
Owen opens the man's file and right at the top is a note for his exam in two hours. He nods and turns his back completely to the men as the doctor moves things around to his liking. Fortunately, Price and Soap take the hint and leave him to his work.
There's something calming about moving everything into the right place. It adds a sense of consistency and normality to his life. Owen can't be truly uprooted from his life if he keeps the box of disposable gloves on the right side of his desk in the corner rather than whatever place the previous doctor had them. He wonders what happened to the previous doctor anyways. Owen's never really been one for rumours but apparently it was something to do with masks. The doctor knows all too well how comforting a mask is and the safety in wearing one so there shouldn't be an issue now. Maybe that's why he was chosen - to remove the previous issue.
He starts to read over König's medical file. Apparently his patient is 6'10. Owen doesn't know what they feed the guy to achieve that height but European genetics can be wild. There aren't any health issues recorded so far according to his predecessor but it's always good to check. A small note, barely a sentence long, mentions the giant having a type of anxiety disorder. That would explain why the last person got fired as it seems like König also wears a mask. It doesn't bother Owen but that really should be better detailed than a measly footnote.
There's a knock at the door but it slowly swings open. The file wasn't kidding about König's height as he ducks to get inside the room. Owen gives a wave which is returned. Unsurprisingly, König is also dressed in tactical gear with a long piece of cloth covering his face except for holes shaped by iron rings for his eyes. He lumbers over and sits on the medical examination bed after shutting the door.
"I'm Doctor Owen O'Reilly. I understand you don't want to take off the mask which is fine." He gestures to his face. "I'm quite the same about all that."
König nods, "Soap spoke about you."
"Hopefully it was a glowing review." He grabs a stephoscope. "This is just a basic medical exam and then you're free to go." König nods again and Owen starts the whole procedure. Throughout it, he explains what he's exactly doing and why. Due to the lack of details on the soldier's file, the doctor isn't sure if this is helpful or condescending but his patient seems pretty relaxed and content with what's happening. Even if it wasn't there, Owen would still be explaining as SAS members can be quite jumpy with medical procedures and the last time he didn't explain ended nasty. If he's to believe his ex, Owen has a voice for audiobooks with how soothing he can be so that's probably helping.
Once he finishes, Owen wheels back his chair. "I'm done. You're in perfect health. Do you have any questions?"
"How old are you?"
"Twenty eight. I'm also 5'11 and a Virgo if that helps." It's not the weirdest question he's been asked and König just leaves after that.
When it hits the time to go grab dinner, Owen keeps his distance from the others. He loads up his plate with a few things and starts heading back to his quarters. Of course people stare at him both for being new and his mask. It's just a simple black cloth mask that covers up to his nose and his cheeks. You would think that the base that has König and Ghost presumably always wearing their own masks would not be shocked at another person wearing one but people are always invasive.
As he heads back to his living space, Soap calls out to him. "Sorry for taking the last of the potatoes!" Whoever he's with start to laugh at the poor joke.
"At least my people have independence from the English." He replies, not looking towards Soap. The other man mumbles under his breath as his friends begin to laugh at him now. Owen honestly doesn't mind jokes about him being Irish but the least Soap could do is be more creative about it.
As he eats his food at the small table in his living quarters he notes two things. One, he needs to buy groceries and cook for himself. Two, someone is watching Owen. Just barely turning his head, Owen looks out to one of his windows. Sure enough a silhouette is standing there, the dark shape outlined in the frosted glass. Feeling fairly confident as he puts one hand on the baton he carries Owen waves to the figure. They disappear from view and the doctor returns to his meal. Meal times are some of the few moments where Owen isn't wearing a mask.
There's a knock at his side door and Owen makes his way over after slipping his mask back on. He doesn't trust this mysterious figure at all. The base should be safe but people can slip in still. It's very unlikely but not impossible. Owen opens the door and sees a solid figure standing there, dressed in dark tactical gear. He tilts his head up slightly to get a look at the face of his visitor. The doctor recognises the black mask with a white skull printed onto it. Ghost. The sniper is unsurprisingly a good few inches taller than him.
"Is there something I can help you with?"
"You're Doctor O'Reilly?" His voice is gruff. Owen assumes that Ghost is a smoker.
"Yes I am."
Ghost nods to himself then starts walking away. Too tired from travelling to follow him or ask questions, Owen shuts the door and heads back to his little dining space. Maybe Price can shed some light on that strange interaction tomorrow.
The next day comes and Owen ignores the yelling and ruckus outside. It's nothing of his concern until someone comes in and demands something of him. He does grab a muffin for breakfast and ignores the people smoking. They don't need to be told not to by a doctor. Everyone and their mother knows that smoking is harmful. All that the doctor really needs to be concerned with is the health of 141 who probably smoke a pack a day. Owen has put worse into his system so even if he did reprimand them the doctor would be a hypocrite.
Fortunately, nobody bothers him in the morning. He's starting to prefer this base already as there aren't twenty different rookies bothering him with stupid medical questions or pestering him about his mask. Price seems content with leaving Owen to his work rather than hovering over his shoulder and watching. The only real con is Ghost watching him eat. Even then the windows are frosted so it's not like the sniper would have seen under the mask. Working alongside 141 might not be terrible. Hell it might even be an upgrade.
Captain Price walks into the medical office with a bleeding Soap. Great. The soldier walks over and sits on the examination bed. Price leaves without any explanation so Owen looks at Soap expectantly.
"Sparring with König got a little too rough." He gestures to the large gash on his arm.
The doctor cleans the wound with water to get rid of the staining blood. He grabs a bottle of rubbing alcohol and douses a cotton pad with it before rubbing it along the cut. Soap curses under his breath. "Do you know Ghost well?"
"Yeah I guess you could say so. Why?" Soap stiffens slightly as he sits up. Clearly he's a little defensive of the sniper.
"He was watching me eat yesterday." Owen starts to wrap up Soap's arm with some bandages. "Then knocked on my door before leaving."
"He say anything to you?"
"Just asked if I was Doctor O'Reilly." He ties up the bandages.
"Sounds like Ghost. Him and the old doctor had an incident. He demanded that Ghost removed his mask before treatment." Soap shudders. "You should have seen Price's face when he heard about it."
Ghost must have been wondering if Owen would be cut from a similar cloth. His own mask might have been reassuring to Ghost that the doctor has no plans to do something like that to him. "You're good to go. Just come to me tomorrow for a change in bandaging. Also please don't get hurt again. I understand I'm 141's personal doctor but it would be helpful if injuries are kept to a minimum."
"Got it Doc."
"Don't call me Doc."
"See you around Doc!" Soap leaves and Owen sighs.
He signs off from the base in the afternoon and goes to the nearest supermarket. Owen will be damned if he eats anymore of the provided food. The best way to describe it is edible and even then that's being kind. The doctor gets a good range of food and drink along with a bottle of whiskey. Something tells him that 141 will cause him to need some.
In the early evening, Owen starts to make himself dinner. Cooking and baking have always been the only thing that truly relaxes him. Honestly he misses cooking for other people but it's not like he can eat with others anymore. A lot of things get taken away after having your face carved into. Smiling at people, eating with friends, and it certainly doesn't help in any of Owen's romantic endeavours. The mask definitely makes him appealing for one night stands but most people who see underneath are horrified. Owen doesn't think it's that bad however enough negative reactions make him cover his face for the sake of others. Even now, standing in his kitchen alone, the doctor is still wearing the mask. He opens a window both to let the steam out and mentally justify wearing it still.
As he starts cooking his rice, Owen hears Soap and someone else walking by presumably to get their own dinner.
"Do we have to eat this shit?" Soap whines to his friend.
"You gonna cook a meal? Wait a second - do you smell that?" The other man stops. "Smells like a curry."
"I think Doc is cooking." Soap walks over to the open window and pops his head through. "What are you making Doc?"
"Chicken curry." Owen bluntly replies.
"Yeah but that smells good." Soap looks down at his pan. "Can we have some?"
"I'm not your fucking chef." Owen starts shutting the window and Soap ducks out of the way. He's not going to feed them and tend to their wounds.
A few minutes pass and there's knocking at his side door. Owen answers it and Soap is standing there with another man, both holding bowls. "Can we please have some of your food?"
"No."
"Please?"
"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" Both men shake their heads. "Fine. Come in." Owen leads them into the kitchen and dishes out some of his rice and curry. He was planning on using the rest as meal prep but apparently not. Once their bowls are full, Owen points to the door.
"I'm Alejandro by the way. I'm also part of 141." Soap's friend offers a hand that Owen doesn't shake. He just wants to eat.
"Doctor O'Reilly. Now get out."
The two men quickly leave. Owen locks his door then starts dishing out his own portion before taking it to his table. He promises himself that will be the only time he will cook for anyone else. It's just a one off to get Soap off his back.