Chapter Text
You had invited the Freak Circus boys to your house just to hang out and we're sitting on the couch casually talking. Pierrot, in a very pierrot fashion, sat next to you on the couch. Jester and Ticket Taker had decided not to come, however, Harlequin was there, if for no other reason than to piss off Pierrot, and Doctor decided to help you be the voice of reason with these idiots on top of honesty just having nothing else to do for now than hang out. He was up exploring your apartment -with permission and a slightly watchful eye of yours on him to make sure he didn't get into anything bad.
You're in a more functional outfit, since you had stuff to do today around the apartment before they came over, shoes, men's shorts, and a baggy shirt with a cat on it. You noticed Harlequin was a little upset Pierrot was next to you instead of him and decided to be a little shit. You smile at pierrot and ask if you can try something for a second. He nods in a slightly eager motion and with that you just swing your legs onto pierrot's lap as a joke.
There's a silence in the apartment and you get embarrassed about doing that in the first place. Just as you're about to put your legs back down pierrot grabs them to still you and his gaze gets razor sharp. He gently lifts your chin to face him, holding your legs firmly as he whispers "who did this to you, my dear?"
You look down and remember the scars scattered across your legs, some from scratches or falls, over scratching bug bites, and the classic knee scars from childhood falls. You glance at the one mark that wasn't from that stuff, a small dent on your legs right in the middle that hadn't been addressed properly. Stress fractures, you'd assumed after hours of research. You hope for the best, that he's just staring at the most visible scars, from the bites and scrapes and tell him you just scratched the bites too hard.
His grip tightens on your chin "Dear. These aren't from bugs. Please don't lie to me."
Harlequin sits up and looks at the scars sprinkled on your legs, his voice finally serious for once "Y/N. Those are lines. They can't come from bugs."
You get slightly nervous, not wanting to alert doctor but it's a bit too late for that. You see him approaching anyway and put your hands up in an attempt to stop him, telling him it's fine and that they're just small cuts.
Doctor looks at you with a slowness that feels like slight disappointment or incredulousness. "Y/N. You have many scars on your legs. Only a small portion of them look to be from bug bites. Please, do explain how they're fine."