Past Lives || Dottore

38

The calm snow passed the carriage quickly and quietly, the carriage rocking every now and then as the two traveled back home. The woman in the carriage looked out the window, her eyes observing, her brain clear. The man beside her had his eyes on her, however, as beautiful as the snow may be, to him, she was more beautiful.

She blinked and turned towards him, a smile on her lips.

"The snow looks nice." She pointed out the window, just as the beginning of snow flurries began to pass by.

He didn't look, his eyes glued to her features. His ruby eyes were soft.

She only chuckled. "The snow looked like this when we were having our snowball fight, remember?"

He hummed softly in response. His lifted up his mask, removing it from his face. She watched him with careful and observant eyes, a soft blush forming on her cheeks. She often forgot how pretty this man in front of her was, but she liked every time that she saw his face again.

He pressed his lips against her forehead, pulling her into a comfortable hug. She felt her heartbeat rapidly in her chest. She felt like he could hear her heartbeat, and that he found it amusing that he could make her act this way. She knew this was most likely the case, knowing how he acted most of the time.

Because of this, she often forgot how his real personality is.

A sadist.

A psychopath.

A sociopath.

A manipulator.

A man who loved to slaughter both men, woman, and children alike.

A madman.

A monster.

And ...

a lover.

Yes, a lover. That is what he is. That is what he is to her. Her lover. Her one and only. Her savior.

She pulled away from the embrace and kissed his lips softly. He stared at her, his eyes showing a mix of emotion. Confusion, curiosity, love. He smiled in response, allowing her to relax on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, the events of the night finally catching up to her.

A few moments later, she was asleep. The look on her face was peaceful, the last of her smile lingering on her lips. He leaned his head against hers, relaxing himself. But he stayed awake. He liked this comfortable silence; he liked sharing it with her.

He kept his breath shallow, as to not have his shoulder move too much and disturb her sleep. His eyes drifted to the outside, now watching as the snow flurries picked up in speed. They were going faster, which told him they were on stable ground once more.

The two of them would get home soon, then she would have proper place to sleep. Right in his arms, comfortably on the bed. The eventful night took a lot out of the both of them, and they much needed this rest. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He still had work to do, but he was more than willing to stop all of his work just for her.

It was one of the many things he would do for her.

He would do so much for her.

So where did it all go wrong?

...

I see.

Here.

It all went wrong here.

...

Dottore held her broken and bleeding body carefully. He didn't want to break anything else. He already knew what was wrong with her body, and he could easily fix the things. The simple fucking things.

"Sir!"

He looked up, spotting one of the fatui agents on duty. He was running towards them, holding a briefcase he knew was full of the important supplies he needed. The agent slid to a stop, giving the briefcase to the doctor as quickly as he could.

Dottore laid Y/n's body onto the snow, her blood staining the white snow red. He clicked open the suitcase, the lid popping open.

All of his needed supplies were right as his fingertips, yet he couldn't move. He froze. He knew exactly how dangerous freezing on the job was.

"FUCK!"

The agent beside him jumped at the doctor's protest. He willed his fingers to move, grabbing the next syringe and a small vial of glowing blue-green liquid. He raised the vial carefully, inserting the needle into the top of the vial.

His hand was shaking.

He could tell from the liquid inside the syringe. The liquid was shaking violently in the syringe, yet he forced himself to make his hand stable. Dottore found a vein quickly and injected the contents of the vial into her bloodstream. The area of the blood glow blue-green for a second before being overtaken by the red in her body.

He mumbled under his breath, scooping her up from the snow. The agent scrambled to his feet, following after his superior, who ran at speeds that were unmatched by any living creature. The agent hasn't seen him act like this.

The agent found it hard to believe that the girl who had stumbled out of the carriage that brought her to this place, was now in the second harbingers arms, being treated like she was his last lifeline.

His footsteps slowed. He knew he had no chance to catch up with the doctor. He needed to stay and handle with the aftermath of the incident. The agent turned around, making his way back.

Dottore, on the other hand, was already at their house. He kicked the door open, the door shattering into broken splinters of wood. One of the clones that happened to be in the area jumped, dropping every document he held. The clones' eyes widened at the broken body in Prime's arms and was quick to step out of the way.

Róbkij quickly followed suit after Prime. He didn't want Y/n to be like this anymore. He needed to help Prime fix her.

The duo was quick down the stairs into the laboratory, Prime shouting words in a language that not even his clone could understand. He looked furious. Sad.

Hopeless.

Róbkij handed him was tools that he needed. The bloodied dress that she wore was torn apart, leaving her body open to the cold lab around her. Prime cut at her skin -as painful as it was to do so- replacing the cut pieces with the immortal cells he had created just in case.

The blue-green liquid he had injected her with was supposed to help with the process, it was supposed to help make it faster.

Why wasn't it going faster?

Why wasn't it going fucking faster?

The clone and him cut at her body, replacing each and every cell with new ones, Prime muttering and mumbled about how fucking stupid everything was, how they never should've gone to the fucking party, how he never should've contacted her-

Róbkij slapped Prime.

He stood, shocked, shaking. Slowly, his turned to face his clone. He couldn't even be mad. He understood. He knew.

"Focus Prime."

"-a fucking failure-" 

He slapped him again.

"Fucking focus. Your love is dying on this table, and you are going to fix it."

"I'm a fucking failure-"

"NO!" The clone grabbed his collar and pulled him close to his face. "Sure, maybe you are a fucking failure. That means I am one too. We are the same. We both have the same feelings towards Y/n. The only difference is you are the one that needs her the most. You are the one who has been through the most pain."

"You are also the one who going to fucking fix this."

Prime only nodded. Róbkij released his collar and started working again.

The two of them needed to fix this.