Probably A Worse Love Story Than Twilight

Maybe Something To Worry About

When Four woke up, he was noticeably not dying on the floor of a forest.

As the world around him came back into focus, he noticed a lot of... chairs? He also found himself sitting in one, somehow. A cold metal one, but much more of a comfort than damp, blood soaked grass.

The spinning of the industrial ceiling slowly came to a stop. A familiar figure towered over him, seemingly applying something to his leg.

"...Three...?"

"Oh thank god." Three rushed up to meet his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed, with a mix of relief and concern etched into his face.

"Holy shit, man, I thought you were gonna die. I was preparing to have to like, stage something so people didn't think I was the one that did it."

"Thanks for the concern, Three." Four rolled his eyes.

"No problem. Worrying over, now I get to be mad."

"That was you being worrie—"
Before Four could finish, Three slapped him on the back of the head.
"You're a fucking idiot."

"Hey! Second time today, leave my brain alone!"

"You seriously ran to protect a rabbit?"

"It was gonna get eaten!!!"

"So were you! We're guardians, you dumbass!"

"Exactly! I was doing some guardianing!"

"We could've stopped it from afar! You can't be throwing yourself into danger like that!"

"Oh yeah, because you were so useful standing there as I — ghk!" Four folded midway through his retort, clutching at his now bandaged leg. He'd only now realised how painful it felt. It burned. Badly. That was probably normal.

"Mary mother of Dr Kawashima's Brain Training (How old is your brain?), that's bad!"

"Yeah, no shit. Dude bit right into your calf. I put some disinfectant and all that while you were conked out. It looked pretty gross." Three made a disgusted face and shook his head. "Stuff of nightmares."

Four pouted and glanced down at his leg. His calf seemed hastily covered. Three obviously wasn't a doctor, but still — it got the job done. Even discounting the rush job, it looked way better than Three was leading him to believe. The horrific redness and swelling wasn't even that bad!

Three crossed his arms. "Now, obviously that isn't gonna be enough, I'm gonna get some Knuckles' to throw you over to the dead meme hospital, but—"

"Nooooo way!" Memories of the time he and Mario landed in there flashed through his mind. The idea of those horrible, horrible massive syringes... he shuddered. Huh. He may be a little scared of needles. Also of memes near him with anything medical, but that one seems a bit more rational.

"I appreciate the help, Three. I really do, but I'm all good! Really!" To prove how good he was, he got up from the chair on his own, before promptly crumpling onto the floor. "JesusCHRIST."

"I was gonna say, you shouldn't be walking on that." Three knelt down next to him, offering his hand out. "Seriously. You can't brush this one aside."

Any other time, Four would have appreciated the help. But something in him was way pissier than usual. He pushed Three's hand out of the way. "I don't need any pity from you. You didn't try to help me in the woods. You don't need to now."

Three's lighthearted expression changed into something unreadable. He took a step back, before his face slipped back into its usual mild annoyance.

"It's not pity to try and make sure my—" He shut his eyes. "— friend doesn't die from a wolf bite like it's the damn dark ages."