SSD: Someone Save Dottore

Chapter 3

this will probably be the last daily update chapter i post, as this is like the last chapter i've prewritten! 

enjoy :D

Chapter 3

Childe felt like shit.

Yesterday, he might've overexerted himself just a little, although he was loath to admit it. He had been so eager to finally spar with Scaramouche and Capitano, he had been a little reckless.

He had broken Scaramouche's hat, too. The Sixth Harbinger had shouted for what seemed like eternity, and zapped him extra hard with lightning.

Though, it was his fault for not going to see Dottore afterwards. The doctor had been in a sour mood practically all of yesterday, Childe didn't want to go to him and get strapped to an examination table for his troubles.

But, considering how Pantalone was limping today, (it wasn't very noticeable, but Childe had heard Pantalone's curses during the night and this morning. Seriously, why was he always next to those two??😭) Childe thought it had been smart of him not to seek out Dottore.

He still felt like shit.

He thanked the Tsaritsa that today, he was sitting between Dottore and Scaramouche. Not the best of seating choices, but it was a lot better than sitting next to Sandrone or Arlecchino, both who currently hated him. Capitano was out today, he had been recalled to the capital for an urgent assignment.

Arlecchino was pissed today. She had snapped at everyone, including Columbina. Scaramouche had tactfully not said a word to her at all, and Childe was glad. He did not want to see either of them get mauled by an angry Dottore.

He hadn't donned Scaramouche's hat, either, which he regretted. His head was pounding, his arms were aching, and his guts hurt. If he had the hat at least he could've hidden behind it. But no, he had to break it. Now he knew why Scaramouche was so attached to his hats.

The Sixth Harbinger looked oddly small without that monstrosity on his head. However, Sandrone had found a new replacement robot to stand behind her menacingly.

Clearing his throat, Dottore started the meeting. Today, it was all about discussing the movements of the Abyss Order, seeing as the discussion yesterday had gone absolutely nowhere.

They had all pretended the incident yesterday had not happened, and today was going relatively smoother. Scaramouche was being civil, Pantalone did not make any snide comments, nobody insulted Dottore, and Arlecchino didn't say a single impolite word. However, the storm brewing in her eyes promised death.

Everything was going smoothly, so Childe could go back to not being there anymore.

Everything hurt.

Childe tried desperately to float into the clouds, to embrace the pain, as Scaramouche so often said. (Childe still didn't know whether that was supposed to be a joke or not.) But it didn't work.

His forehead was burning, his eyes felt like there were knives digging into them, his fucking arm was on fire.

Oh, he really wishes he had Scaramouche's hat.

Scaramouche hisses in his ear.

"Hey, bastard, wake up. Pantalone's called your names five times by now. What the fuck is wrong with you??"

His eyes were screaming at him, his arm was on fire –

"Anyways," Pantalone smoothly continued the meeting, sparing Childe having to respond. He could feel people's eyes on him, but they soon moved away.