Chapter Text
You couldn’t really tell where anything started or ended anymore. You let out a rough cough. Were you even awake? You wished all the dust would finally settle, hugging that old stuffed frog for comfort. Everything was better that morning—well, except for your head feeling fuzzy and no one being there to hold you. Then you heard a crash, the walls came down, and now you’re here, dust in your throat.
At some point, you must’ve blacked out again. Now you’re waking up to the sound of medical beeping and that familiar chemical smell. You jolt up, hoping they’re here! You sit up all the way, feeling the bandages rustling. The room’s empty except for a small chair in the corner, an IV drip on your right, and a whiteboard with scribbles. This isn’t your doctor’s place. And where is everyone who’s supposed to hold you?
“Bubba?” you call out gently; your voice aches.
Your body ached too, but your call had no answer.
Over the next few days, doctors were in and out of your room. Checking if you need pain medicine, or help using the bathroom, or help getting clean. It felt quiet and stiff, and they kept giving you those stupid disposable pacifiers. Gross, you weren’t a baby! You sometimes walked the halls, exploring the pristine corridors with the nurses watching close by. You stopped walking around so much when you noticed them looking almost fearful.
That’s when they came in. A man with an eyepatch, long black hair and a tired look etched into his face and a man with long blonde hair, an odd mustache and a permanent grin. You giggled. Oh, how silly they looked.
“Hi there, sweet thing,” the blonde chirped. “I’m Mic; this is Shouta. We’ve come to ask you questions.” That struck a cord, and you froze, shaking your head. “Bubba says not to answer questions from strangers.”
“We’re not bad… we’re heroes,” the tired man named Shouta answered. Your face screwed up in disgust. Heroes? You didn’t like heroes. The two looked at each other, and the blonde sat down in that weirdly sterile chair. You shook your head a little harder that time. “I’m not supposed to talk to heroes. They’re mean.” They both sighed.
“I promise we’re not mean…Can you tell us some things about you?” Mic finally asked.
You stayed silent for a moment. “Um, I guess. Things like what?”
“Where you lived, your caregiver, things like that.” Shouta specified.
“Oh! You mean Bubba! I can tell you about him! He has blue hair, red eyes, and he’s scratchy all the time! He has to wear this glove to hold me, so he doesn’t hold me much, but Himi likes to; she calls me pretty and puts little clippys in my hair.”
They looked at each other again. You hated when people did that. When they looked at each other like they knew something you didn’t, like they were hiding it from you or didn’t know how to tell you something. Your brows furrow slightly.
“...And where did you live...?” The question intrudes on your thoughts. You tilt your head a little in thought. “I…don’t know. It smelt like smoke…and alcohol, and everyone always talked seriously.” They nodded at that and stood as the doctors and someone else in a suit came in. They talked quietly for a moment before Shouta came back over. “Okay, so me and I are gonna take you home with us. Is that okay? Do you have anything to take with you?” You shake your head before stopping. “Cove!.. Where’s Cove?” The men tilted their heads towards you.
“Cove?” the doctor asked.
“Cove. please,” you replied, and the doctor's brows softened in realization before handing over the stuffed frog. You finally relaxed.
The doctors started detaching your IV and helping you get dressed in a plain pair of sweats and a soft white shirt. The original two men waited by the door as you got up and walked towards them. You were so confused. What was happening? Mic reached for your hand, and you loosely held it back.
Soon you arrived at a small apartment and brought a small room with a simple bed, dresser, and attached bathroom. “You’ll stay here for a little bit until we figure out your… situation,” one of them said from behind you.