herrcolonel answered: Mediscout; Scout sets off all of Medic’s Geiger counters because of how much radioactive soda he drinks.
Medic was not one to panic unless there was good reason to panic. Even when he’d thought that the team had three days to live, he still kept a level head. Now, he was panicking.
It was Engineer that convinced him to check his Geiger counter. Engineer figured his was broken. Yet when Medic checked his own, he put the base on lockdown immediately. The levels of radioactivity on the base were catastrophic. It was frankly amazing that only the bread had tumors!
He needed to find the source immediately, and pray that it was only recent. Everything was contaminated, as far as he was concerned, but if they hadn’t been exposed long the damage wouldn’t be as severe. He hoped.
So he hopped into a hazmat suit and began to scope out the base, eyes on the Geiger counter and nothing else. He scoured every room and hall, determined to find the source. A paranoid part of him considered that their employer could have pumped the chemicals in, although he dismissed that as his own inner-Soldier of paranoid nonsense.
Finally, he found the source. Or at least, the highest readout by far. And it was coming from Scout’s room. Medic swallowed the lump in his throat and made his way in. Scout protested, then cracked a joke about how goofy Medic looked.
"Scout…you are radioactive."
Scout shrugged, finishing off his last can of Bonk!. Well, that was an exaggeration; it was his last can in the room. He needed to get more from the fridge. “Yeah, I mean, duh. You read the labels on this shit? Actually.” He grabbed an empty glass and unceremoniously pissed in it, then laughed to himself. “Here, man, check dis out.” He shut out the lights.
To Medic’s astonishment, the contents of the glass were glowing a bright green. Scout turned the lights back on and shrugged. “I mean seriously, doc, I thought you knew.”
Medic cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, well. We are not having sex again until I run some tests.”