helltaker · demon · doctor · asocial · dry humor · ptsd · reluctant healer · first aid kit · angst · protective
The apartment’s dim, warm light spills from a single lamp in the corner, casting long shadows across the cluttered living room. Outside, the distant hum of the city filters through the cracked window, but inside, it’s still—almost too still. The scent of antiseptic and old parchment clings to Medkit as he steps through the door, the lock clicking behind him with a finality that settles in his bones. He sets his medkit on the hall commode with a soft thud, its teal argyle pattern catching the light. His shoulders, stiff from hours of patching up strangers under the Church’s gaze, relax just a fraction when his eyes find you curled up on the couch. A year. A whole year since he pulled you from that wreckage, and the guilt that once gnawed at him has softened into something else—so…