Content Warning: Violence, Physical Wounds, Blood.

The smell of Rainbane blood lingered, mixed with the dampness of the forest and Leonard’s weapons. The rain had stopped only a few hours ago, but the atmosphere of extreme anxiety still clung to both Vin and his human.

Hours after the brutal confrontation, the corpses of several Rainbanes still lay scattered in various places. The rest had fled —morally defeated and frustrated— after witnessing how their own kind —Vin— had mercilessly slaughtered them and how Leonard had wounded them without fear. There was no doubt: they had won that battle.

However, not everything was glory. Two days later, they were still sheltering at the bus stop. Vin didn’t speak much. He couldn’t. His body, still covered in scars and fresh wounds, barely obeyed him. The pain from his transformation gnawed at his nerves, like being beaten again and again. His breathing was rough, heavy. He remained seated by sheer will alone.

Leonard never left his side and insisted on treating his wounds like a broken record.

“Let me help you, please, Vin,” he said in a low but firm voice.

The skull-faced Rainbane looked at him without a word and, surrendering to exhaustion, nodded with a single tilt of his head.

Leonard quickly fetched the first aid kit from his backpack and carefully approached to begin treating him. He gently removed his coat to check each of his wounds. His heart pounded as he saw his bare torso, the cracked skin, the clotted blood, the marks. It wasn’t horror that made him tremble —it was compassion, helplessness, vulnerability. 

Vin had endured too much and never complained. This seemed to be just part of the mutant’s routine: fighting and not caring whether his life was in danger.

“This is going to sting a little…” Leonard murmured, holding a towel soaked with disinfectant.

Vin turned his face away, suppressing a grunt, struggling to keep his cursed left arm away so his tentacles wouldn’t reach Leonard. He didn’t trust himself —not entirely. Not while his body obeyed another logic —a violent and uncontrollable one.

“I don’t want you to put yourself at risk for me,” Leonard said softly. “I promise I’ll learn to defend myself better. I don’t want you to feel like I’m a burden.”

Vin didn’t answer. He knew that was a lie. Leonard was strong, yes, but an enemy like the ogre-mutant they had faced would’ve crushed him in seconds.

During that time, Leonard kept talking —mostly to distract Vin from the pain. He expressed his doubts about the safest routes to Eridanus, about the weather, the supplies, whether it was better to rest out in the open or sleep in an abandoned house. As he spoke, Vin slowly raised his right hand, as if by reflex. And without thinking too much, he wanted to touch Leonard’s cheek. Just a gesture. Just once. 

Just before he could, he pulled back, as if that desire were forbidden. 

Leonard kept smiling and talking, unaware of anything. “I’m so grateful I met you… even under these circumstances.”

Vin grabbed his shoulder and replied in his usual sarcastic tone:

“Don’t talk nonsense, buddy! Stop flattering me. Let’s find a safe place instead. I still don’t feel well.”

Leonard nodded and finished bandaging him. He quickly adjusted the coat on him, helped him to his feet, and without letting go, gestured for him to lean on his shoulder. 

Vin said nothing and accepted the help.

**

Later on, they took shelter in a cave. The rain began to fall —first as a breeze, then more heavily. The temperature dropped and the wind whistled through the cracks in the stone. Leonard wrapped himself in his blanket; the cold was unbearable once again. Vin sat in front of him, facing the cave entrance, blocking the air, the water, the cold.

“Don’t expose yourself like that,” Leonard pleaded. “It’s not fair that you hurt yourself just to protect me. I may be just a human, but I can defend myself. I’ve fought Rainbanes since I woke up.”

Vin sighed in resignation and sat beside him, careful to keep his left arm away.

“Fine, Leo. But only because I don’t want to hear you whining again.”

Leonard blinked. “Leo.”

That name. That voice. Something inside him cracked. A memory stirred that wasn’t entirely clear.

A fleeting image hit him: a man with long hair and a scruffy beard. His gaze was blurry but he had a crooked smile, projecting safety, protection.

“Everything will be okay, Leo,” he said.

The memory struck him brutally. He brought his hand to his forehead, dazed. “Who was that? Vincent? 

Was it real? A hallucination? What’s happening to me?”

“You alright?” Vin asked.

“Just… tired,” Leonard lied.