Wandering Memories

(☀SD)A Slip of the Hand

Kinda fluffy Scara x Dottore? Contains mentions of Blood and dissection. This chapter and the ones to follow will be a different universe than the rest of the book. The events in these chapters will not be cannon to the rest of the book.

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Scaramouche ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the mess he made as a sigh escaped his lips. Having to fetch things for Dottore was no small job, nor was it fun as the Balladeer had to have the carcasses delivered to the lab while he carried the largest one himself. Mitachurls aren't very light, but they also don't prove to be much of a problem for Scaramouche to carry one up a mountain.

It didn't take long for the doctor to let the balladeer and his lackeys inside and to a room deep within. The room was clearly meant for experiments, and there was a large table with chains and cuffs attached. Scaramouche knew better than to question if the chains were strong enough to hold a mitachurl, as he himself had been restrained by similar ones before.

"Try not to go too crazy taking it apart, alright Doctor?" The shorter male broke the silence as he latched the final cuff to the mitachurl, having climbed up on the table to make sure it was tightly secured.

"Oh but crazy is my style, dear Balladeer." Was the response he garnered as Dottore brought over a table of medical tools for his dissection. "Will you be watching?" His voice sounded so menacing it sent a chill up the balladeer's spine, but the puppet knew the tone was more like childish curiosity.

"No, but I will be around in case you need me. Do try not to make a mess, or if you do, don't try to make me clean it." Scaramouche calmly requested before making his way out of the experiment room, and instead to the medical room to tend to some wounds he obtained from not letting anyone help him fight the entire hillichurl camp.

Sitting on the floor, Scaramouche waited for a few hours, entertaining himself with the sparks that flew from his hand, before Dottore walked into the medical room, arms bloody and cut up.

"What happened to you?" Scaramouche's voice showed his concern better than his question as he got up to get the required equipment to tend to Dottore's dripping arms.

"My hands slipped a few times." Was all the doctor responded as he sat on a chair, watching as the small male kneel infront of him, only giving any sign of hurting when he flinched as the balladeer grabbed his arm and begun tending to it rather poorly.

"And you continued working instead of getting patched up immediately? You don't know what diseases those filthy monsters might have in their blood!" He scolded as he washed off the blood with a damp cloth before beginning to wrap Dottore's arms.

"Well, I'm clearly fine, and now I know it had no diseases in it's blood, so everything is alright." Dottore remarked, earning a slap to his arm from Scaramouche, which in return caused him to hiss in pain.

"Well aren't you lucky." The balladeer huffed, and he tied off the wrappings before returning to sit on the floor away from Dottore, his back turned to the doctor.

"What would I have done if something bad happened to you, idiot." Scaramouche muttered, unaware the doctor heard him until he felt arms wrap around his waist.

"I'm sorry." Dottore whispered against the back of Scaramouche's neck, which caused the smaller to shudder.

"Just don't be so stupid, okay?" The puppet said softly as he leaned in to the Doctor's arms.

"Okay." A soft, one word answer, yet between the two it was a sworn promise.

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So, it's a bit short. I wasn't sure how to write this because the idea was really just "Dottore gets hurt, Scara patches him up while showing concern, and Dottore hugs him from behind." Probably wasn't a good one to start with while being rusty too. Might rewrite it eventually.