It’s Not Him ~Closed rp

guestsinhisworld:

And there was the other problem. The concern about what Dark did or might do was one thing, but now there was the issue of Patches panicking. It was inevitable probably and Host hated himself for not warning him in advance about the entity.

“From what the Host has learned, Dark now knows where Patches is… at all times…” He was reluctant to say that as it was far from comforting. The implication being that wherever Patches went, Dark could just show up. But he should know the truth.

“This is the Host’s fault… Dark is only interested in Patches because of him and he should have warned Patches.” The sound of Patches sobbing was making him feel sick.

The doctor can’t really help himself to sob like that, he just found out that he more or less sold his soul to some creep. Not only that but hearing he could never have a safe haven just tied knots in his stomach. He was on his knees at this point and his glasses were covered in tears. “No-no…this is my fault…sniff…I am so stupid I shouldn’t have agreed..”

Then there was another punch in his gut when he started to put two and two together. If he was used to get near Host then that meant…he was a living wiretap for Dark and the worst part is that he may have to not be around the man he was head over heels for any longer for their safety. That’s what hurt him the most.

“I…I turned myself into a parasite.” 

redheav:

“Is good, da?” A grin split the Russian’s face. Sharing food was such a simple thing, but it obviously meant a lot to the little Medic. Heavy scooped up his own sandvich and took a much larger bite and chewed noisily. As he did, he thought more on the other man.

“You fight today?” He rumbled after swallowing the food in his mouth. Perhaps fight was the wrong word, though Heavy would love to see the tiny man slay a giant– not him of course.

They took very generous bites out of the given sandwitch, even sitting down on the counter. It was pretty easy to make Patches happy and it just tasted really good. The little guy nodded up and down really quickly when his mouth was full and swallowed to answer the heavy’s question. 

“Uh- well..yeah. Can’t really fight but I have to be on the battlefield at noon today..” He had this haunting look in his eyes, like he wasn’t happy about it. He then shook his head and spoke up. “Oh isn’t it really early? I thought you guys slept for a couple more hours..”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

seerchild:

seerchild-archive:

To say he was even ‘okay’ was a stretch, the boy had been walking with wide eyes since Patches had seen him again. He was wide awake, and seemingly paranoid of something, or at least bothered or disturbed. His hair was tied in total knots and frizzing out like crazy. Yet looked tired, no… exhausted, the stress of a war-torn soldier hung on his face.

Luca had hardly even heard himself say he was okay to Patches, so when the question was brought up again, he perked awake from his trance, and realised what he was even asking him.

are you okay? are you okay? are you okay?… 

that question echoed through his mind for what felt like several minutes to Luca, but in reality was only maybe three seconds to Patches.

Luca looked down at the small doctor, and took a shivering breath, holding his hands close to his heart for vague comfort.

“No…” he admitted, closing his eyes. He didn’t CRY, but a couple stray tears rolled down his face.

“No I’m not…”

“I-if you’re sure….” Luca said, kneeling down and cupping his hands.

“I-I’ll try to be c-careful… I-I wouldn’t want to hurt you…” he said. Somehow, as shaky as this kid was and how easily spooked he was, he had an undeniable gentleness to him. Even if he was big, he clearly meant well.

“T-the walk s-shouldn’t be too long anyway….”

He managed to scramble into the palm of the child lightly and it would have felt like he was holding a guinea pig. But with clothes and a medical degree. The healing aura deployed as anyone holding him would immediately start having the effects, though Luca wasn’t inquired so the effects weren’t quite apparent yet. 

“Just keep a firm- but not tight hold of me and I should be fine.” He gave a supportive thumbs up with a grin. 

It’s Not Him ~Closed rp

guestsinhisworld:

For all he’d changed rather drastically in the years since he’d lost his sight, there was still that part of him that could be rather intense and that apparently didn’t pair well with Patches’ nervous nature. Patches sounded scared though and that stung.

He let out a sigh, trying to simmer down and explain better. He needed to remember how big he was to the medic and how intimidating him getting worked up must be. “Dark is not a good person. He only sees others as tools. He will manipulate you for his own gain. The Host never wanted Patches to have to deal with him. He’s dangerous and now he has a grip on Patches. He’s in his head.”

At the very least Host managed to calm down by a little, even if the little medic knew the Host wouldn’t hurt Patches the instinct of flight had nagged at him when danger looked apparent. So he wasn’t going to run now that Host was trying to not get too heated from the situation but Patches wasn’t taking the news he literally just sold his mind on accident.

Tears welled up in his eyes as Patches slowly crouched down to the ground and hugged his legs. “I-I didn’t mean to..I was about to die and… oh no…no no- are you saying he controls me and…” his eyes dilated- wondering if he was being watched. He can never hide safely again.

That’s when Patches started to cry

violently.