Work Text:
Valeriy knocked twice on the door to Mitya's quarters in the Armory Palace and waited. He could hear some noises inside, some clanking and then hurried footsteps. He was pleased to know that Mitya was both awake and where he was supposed to be. That satisfaction was tamped down somewhat when the door opened to reveal his charge, looking unusually disheveled.
"Oh, Sarge, you're right on time!" he said with a beaming smile. That was a strange thing to make note of. Valeriy had always been punctual. Mitya, for his part, did not look ready to head out. He was missing his jacket and scarf, and he instead wore a stained apron. "I think I finally got it."
"Have you been working here?"
"On a personal project." Mitya gestured at the kitchen as Valeriy followed him in. It was clearly where that personal project was being worked on. Several dirty bowls were scattered all over the place and Mitya had dragged in a chalkboard, now covered with formulas. The air smelled sweet and the floor was a little sticky. "It took a while, but I finally got the ice cream to the perfect scoopable consistency without making it melt faster. Come try it, tell me what you think!"
"Have you been at this all night?"
Something caught his eye on Mitya forearm, left exposed by the rolled cuff. A darkened patch of skin that did not look like a food stain. But it was hard to tell, with his hands always moving. Mitya had always been a very animated man, but right now he was gesturing even more. Maybe to make up for the absence of his scarf, or maybe because he had been up all night eating ice cream.
"Uh, I don't know? Is it morning? There's no windows here, I can't tell."
He got a chance to get a better look when Mitya reached for the freezer, presumably to pull out the ice cream. Along his arm was a collection of bruises. When did this happen? Valeriy grabbed his wrist for a closer look.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, alarmed.
"Uh? Oh, it's nothing. I just fell on the lab's metal floor and bruised my arm."
"Some of these look older than others," Valeriy said with narrowed eyes.
"Yeah, I fell on the lab's metal floor multiple times. On different days."
"Mr. Mitya, if someone is harming you—"
"I'm telling the truth! Look, I know how it sounds, but it's not just me. It's just… a thing that's been happening lately to a lot of the researchers. We don't know what's causing it. Some have tried to go see a doctor, but it doesn't seem to be a medical issue."
Valeriy undid the button on Mitya's rolled cuff to push it further up. He uncovered more bruises, the worst one over his elbow, as if from repeated impact. This at least, was consistent with Mitya's story. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. If the bruises had been caused by a person, that was something Valeriy could protect him from. But he didn't have the clearance to be inside the lab to catch him if he fell.
His duty was to keep Mitya safe and get him to work on time, and right now those two things were at odd with one another.
"Where else are you hurt?" Without waiting for an answer, he started to feel at Mitya's scalp for any bumps.
"Here and there. Nothing serious. I don't think I hit my head. Are you planning to strip me to look at the rest?" Mitya asked sarcastically.
"Not necessary. I'm taking you to the infirmary."
"What? But I'm fine! It's just some bruises."
"That will be for the nurse to determine."
He allowed Mitya to trade his apron for his scarf, then marched him to the infirmary. The nurse didn't seem surprised by Mitya's story. He wasn't the first to end up here. She waved him into a room and then Valeriy was left to wait.
How was he supposed to fulfill his duty? Should he suggest the addition of padding to the lab? He didn't like feeling helpless. Mitya was supposed to be safe in the Armory Palace. Had he said this had been happening only in the lab? Was it a matter of proximity to what they were working on? Or something else? He needed more information. Or did he? He didn't have the clearance to know about what Mitya was working on. Did the higher ups know about this already? He would include it in his report just in case. It might be the only thing he could do.
Mitya was yawning when he came back out. His shirt was untucked and improperly buttoned under his waistcoat. Clearly whatever energy had carried him through the night had ran out. The nurse handed him a tube of cream and it was his scarf that took it and put it in Mitya's pocket.
"Apply this regularly according to the instructions on the label to reduce the swelling. And get some sleep, or you'll be back here later with a much less mysterious workplace injury."
Valeriy should really scold him for being up all night and being too tired to work now. Instead, he stayed silent all the way back to Mitya's quarters.
"Sorry Sarge, I know you were supposed to get me to work on time, but you heard the nurse!"
"Go to bed. I'll clean up the mess."
"Really? Alright, you don't have to tell me twice." Valeriy had started to pick the various dirty dishes when Mitya spoke up again from the doorway to his bedroom. "Hey, are you alright?"
"I'm not the one who is hurt." He placed the dishes in the sink and let it fill with soapy water while he took off his gloves.
"I hope you're not taking this personally. There's nothing you could have done about it."
"I'm aware." He sounded more curt than he meant to. He picked up a sponge and started to scrub. "Go to sleep. You'll still have to go to work this afternoon."
"What? Don't I even get a day off?" Mitya asked in his usual dramatic tone.
"For failing to sleep when you were supposed to? No."
Mitya answered with a theatrical sigh. The normalcy of it made Valeriy feel a little better. He suspected that was the point.