Chapter Text
Usually, on warmer days like these, Medkit wouldn't expect to get a call into the Church from Broker. Especially if it wasn't 'Father's orders'. But the acolyte had made it sound urgent, and Scythe didn't appear to assist her in 'transport'. Instead, she received two disciples, who looked like they barely knew what they were doing compared to Medkit. It was one of the few times she wished it had been Scythe who would take her to the Church instead, but alas, she couldn't complain much.
The reason for the sudden change in plans made everything make sense for Medkit — why some random disciples had come instead of Scythe, why the acolyte on the phone had sounded so urgent. Apparently, this annoyingly beautiful inphernal had gotten into yet another fight with the warden, and now Medkit was expected to clean up the mess.
"If you were in Crossroads, you could've just come to me instead of making me come here."
Her voice was cold, clinical, as she used a washcloth to wipe away the blood and dirt off Scythe's forehead. A large scrape that Medkit didn't want to acknowledge just yet sat right above Scythe's eye — the real one, not the glass one. She held Scythe's chin between her thumb and index finger to keep her still, as the southern inphernal simply grumbled gibberish under her breath. The healer wasn't going to acknowledge it. She had bigger concerns. It was obvious Scythe was tired, anyway, and probably didn't want to be pressed for conversation. Medkit was more than fine with that — she worked better in silence.
A hiss of pain was expected when Medkit pressed a cotton pad loaded with antiseptic against the scrape, as Scythe immediately jerked her head back. As gently as she could, Medkit moved her hand from Scythe's jaw to the back of her head to hold her in place.
"Hold still. You'll only make this go on longer."
She warned, keeping a focused expression on her face. She furrowed her brows when she felt Scythe's hand — the flesh one — grasp onto her waist. As much as she wanted to comment on it, to brush Scythe's hand off and tell her to keep her hands to herself, she didn't. Maybe because she felt bad, or that she thought Scythe was holding onto her for some form of comfort. Obviously, the scrape wasn't the only injury to the inphernal, but Medkit would address the other wounds in a second. The scrape was too close to the eye for comfort, and she'd rather tackle this first than have Scythe complaining about blood being in her eye.
Medkit reached for a band aid, ripping the wrapper of it and peeling off the tabs before placing it over the cleaned scrape. Her fingers lingered on Scythe's face for a moment, admiring how nice the acolyte looked, even though she was tired, probably in pain, and her makeup smudged slightly. The lipstick that was originally supposed to only stay on Scythe's lips was smudged slightly, probably due to the small cut on her top lip that had stopped bleeding way before Medkit got here. Before she could focus any longer on her boss's ruined makeup, she quickly busied herself in cleaning up another wound. Three small puncture wounds — probably from the spikes on the warden's gauntlets — sat under Medkit's careful eye, at the curve of where Scythe's neck and shoulder met. It wasn't pretty, unlike the rest of Scythe. No wound was. Whether it be a missing eye, a missing arm, or whatever the hell Broker had going on.
Medkit shuttered at the thought of Broker — she'd stitched up the creature too many times to count by now. It always ended the same, with the acolyte flashing her a smile before leaving, saying her thanks in a cheery tone that always brought discomfort to Medkit.
"Meds..."
Scythe finally spoke up, that sweet drawl of hers now a painful thing to hear. Exhaustion laced her tone, making Medkit wince slightly. She gave a small hum in response, patching the wounds with more band aids. She could feel her boss's chest rise and fall underneath her hands, as she finally slipped onto her knees to lift Scythe's pant leg and view the worst injury.
"Y'shoulda seen the warden...got all pissy when I finally ran off...said I 'destroyed too many buildin's'."
Her boss spoke, a huff of laughter escaping her. Medkit raised a brow, as she brushed a small amount of debris off Scythe's leg. A cut went from the ankle, curving slightly to the front of her leg and stopping right under her knee. The wound itself looked like it went a little into the hypodermis. It would need stitches, there was no doubt. Medkit really didn't want to do all the work, and she knew well enough Scythe wasn't going to rest if she stitched this up. A sigh escaped the healer as she stood up, removing her gloves and setting them to the side. She stepped over to the sink, turning the faucet on to let cold water hit the metal of the sink.
"Yer gonna just leave me like this?"
Scythe whined from where she sat, making Medkit glance over to see the pitiful expression on her boss's face. A groan escaped her, as she began to wash her hands thoroughly.
"No, Scythe."
She muttered, flicking the water off her hands as she turned off the faucet. She approached again, settling onto her knees once more and setting her hands on Scythe's wound.
"Never thought I'd see the day. You bein' on yer knees for me."
Scythe teased, her hand resting on top of Medkit's head. The healer bit her tongue to hold back an insult, as she focused on healing the wound shut first. She'd done it to Scythe a million times before that the criminal didn't seem to have as many complaints as she did the first time. Once the wound was shut, and Medkit ensured there was nothing else but some large bruises on Scythe, she got her hands washed again and put her gloves back on. She refused to comment on the suggestive statement earlier, focusing solely on ensuring her job was done.
"Y'don't mind if I rest here for a while, do ya, 'kit?"
Scythe asked, standing up to lie down on one of the beds in the infirmary of the church. Medkit gave her boss a curious glance, but she shook her head.
"I don't see why you would, but go ahead."
She responded, packing up all the supplies she had used to fix Scythe up. The silence between the two was too loud. The healer was used to the southern inphernal making flirtatious comments, or mocking Banhammer. Chatter that went through one ear and out the other suddenly felt like something Medkit'd never get back.
"You could join me, at least."
The criminal called from the bed. It felt odd to hear Scythe asking to cuddle rather than what she usually asked for. Medkit was never a believer in any sort of religion, but the offer sounded like heaven. She thought for a moment, really thinking if she was okay with letting her boss hold her like some sort of stuffed animal. The pros weighed out the cons, and the healer slowly approached the acolyte. She lay next to Scythe stiffly, trying to avoid touching her as much as she could.
The bed wasn't fit for two inphernals, it'd be common sense that only one would fit on a bed meant for injured inphernals needing rest. It should've also made sense the moment she lay down that Scythe would turn on her side and wrap her arms around the healer. She didn't get why she froze up when she knew it was coming. Maybe it was the warmth from Scythe, or the awkward feeling that she was literally cuddling with the same inphernal that could tear her to shreds if she really wanted to. After a few moments of stillness, however, Medkit finally shifted, just slightly, to wrap her arms around Scythe's neck. She was careful not to apply pressure to the puncture wounds, but also careful not to try to turn her head to the side. Her horns made lying on it extremely unpleasant.
The silence between them now felt slightly more comfortable. Comfortable enough that Medkit didn't even comment on Scythe placing a small kiss on her temple. Her eye fluttered shut, as she enjoyed the moment between them, that she knew would be interrupted soon.