Chapter Text
Exhaustion. The only correct word to describe what Medkit is feeling at this moment -- except for anxious, but it's a given with his line of work.
He halted at the start of his floor, taking a deep breath. Nothing had actually happened today: just two Phights that he had taken part of and three that he had watched at the request of Sword. He was thankful that Ban Hammer respected the Phighting-truce, but it still made him sweat whenever they were both sitting out together.
Enough complaining at the top of some stairs. He should go home to do that.
He trudged down the hallway to his apartment, the feeling that his eye socket was being stabbed through making him yearn for sleep even more. And maybe a grilled cheese.
Medkit came to a stop at his door, already reaching into his pocket for his keys, when he noticed something.
His door wasn't closed.
He took another deep breath, letting out a regretful sigh. There are only two possibilities on what this could mean and he wishes it was that he forgot to close the door and lock it.
He pushed the door open, frowning at the mournful creak it let out as the light of the hallway slowly flooded into his tiny kitchen and living room. The light was quickly cut off as he stepped in and turned to shut the door, hand hovering over the lock before he decided to not flip it.
"What do you want, Scythe." Medkit asked, turning his head just enough to stare into the dark corner of his living room. The shadow shifted, the light from the window reflecting off of a familiar gold eyepiece and mechanical arm.
"Well, glad t' know yer perceptive, Meddy!" The shadow grinned. The shadow slipped away from its corner, revealing a...
rather disheveled-looking Scythe?
Her hat seemed lopsided and her hair was frizzled, the golden clip on her jacket was undone, and her mechanical ar- wait a second.
"Meddy? Really?" He asked, fully turning around. Only he has ever called him that.
Scythe snorted a laugh, giving him a toothy grin. "Daw, sorry Kit, forgot you hate fun." She jested, a hip popping out as she came to a stop in front of the windows, the sunlight bordering her.
Medkit frowned, a hint of a sigh on his breath. "I do not hate fun, Scythe. I simply don't recall you ever calling me that." Nor do I ever want you to call me that.
Scythe's face seemed to flicker, her mouth half-twitching into a frown for half a second before the grin returned. "Can't I change it up a bit?" She asked, her hands resting on her hips. Medkit took note of how one of her feet slightly tapped the carpeted floor, as if impatient.
He shrugged, his half lidded eye examining the other inphernal's stature. "I'm not accusing you of anything, just surprised by it is all." His left hand gestured vaguely to her, his right hand twitching ever so slightly. "And why are you here now? You usually never miss Phights; did you over sleep perhaps?"
Scythe shook her head before looking at Medkit with a lidded eye. "Naw, just was busy with the cult, as usual."
Medkit frowned, narrowing his eye at the inphernal. Scythe's mouth twitched into a frown before going back to grinning, albeit a smidge more nervous.
Medkit groaned, his shoulders sagging for a second before her drew his revolver, pointing it straight at Scythe's head. "Who are you and why do you look like Scythe."
Not-Scythe held up their hands slightly, wide eyed. They paused for a moment before sighing, their stance completely dissolving. "Yeah, I don't know why I thought you wouldn't pick up on it immediately." They mumbled, eye flicking to look away from him.
Medkit gestured his revolver at them. "Doesn't answer my questions."
Not-Scythe looked up at him with a blank stare before wincing. "Ooookay, I did not figure out how to explain this whole situation." They started pacing in a circle, causing Medkit's grip on his revolver to tighten. "I spent, like, the whole flipping day figuring out how to talk and act like Scythe, dragging stuff from my fucked up memories, and not once did I consider figuring out how to explain myself?"
Medkit raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Not-Scythe blinked at him before nodding side-to-side. "Yeah I get it, 'get to explaining or I'm shooting you in the head', yeah, I know." They sighed, rubbing their eye with their not-mechanical hand. "Okay, so! I'm -- obviously -- not Scythe, but I look like her because -- I'm pretty sure -- I was isekai'd."
Medkit's revolver faltered for a moment, his face screwing up in partial confusion. Not-Scythe noticed and sighed. "I'm not from this world, and I guess I died or something -- probably from something stupid -- and now I'm piloting Scythe's body."
He considered them for a moment before Not-Scythe continued speaking. "Look- Medkit- I just didn't know where else to go." Their shoulders sagged pathetically, as if they were shrinking. "I didn't want to stay with the cult and you were the only person I could think of that wouldn't try and run away or turn me over to someone or something." Their head lowered, their hat hiding their face. "I just-"
"I'm scared."
Medkit's breathe hitched for a second before he exhaled lightly, his face relaxing. Not-Scythe was pathetically small, hunched over with their hands crossed over their torso.
Medkit thought for a moment, considering their words and what he knows. Scythe is an influential member of the Church; if she disappears, things will go badly -- he presumes. And they don't want to be with the Church, and the fact that he was their only option...
He lowered his revolver, staring at Not-Scythe for amoment before sighing. "Okay. I'll help you."
Not-Scythe raised their head with a wide eye and gave him an awlward smile. "Thank you, Medkit."
Medkit turned back to the door and flipped the lock, minding to drag the chain as well. "So, what is your plan." He asked, turning and walking past Not-Scythe to sit on his couch.
"I- well my plan was to find you-" they stammered, their shoulders bunching up as they turned to look at him. "I've been too... panicked, to, uh, think properly."
Medkit sighed, rubbing his face. "Great. Just great." He paused for a moment, realizing a crucial detail. "How did you even get here?"
"Violently."
Medkit deadpanned at the very-serious Not-Scythe before putting his head in his hands. "I cannot believe I just agreed to help you," he muttered regretfully.
Not-Scythe took offense to that, placing a hand on their chest. "Well I'm sorry that my first reaction to being in a place I don't wanna be in is to fight and run away!" They paused for a moment before quickly adding on "Okay and I totally found my way here just purely by luck, Crossroads is way too big and Lost Temple is bigger."
Medkit glared at the inphernal before moving his wrist in a circle. "And- how do you know any of this?"
Not-Scythe snapped their fingers, collapsing back onto the couch just beside Medkit. "I played Phighting a lot. I know a lot of the basics of the lore and stuff, but nothing too in detail."
Medkit frowned at the explanation. "You played... a game."
Not-Scythe nodded. "Mained Scythe, would play Ban Hammer if I couldn't play as her." They snorted, covering their mouth. "Kinda funny, maining those two specifically."
Medkit groaned, putting his hands on his face. Not-Scythe seemed to notice this and seemingly shrunk. " 'M sorry, Medkit," they murmured. Medkit removed his hands from his eyes to watch Not-Scythe fiddle with the golden chain on the jacket. He waited patiently for Not-Scythe to continue speaking, but they didn't. They even seemed to get smaller.
Medkit sighed before reaching over and patting Not-Scythe on the shoulder, earning him a flinch. "Don't worry about it, we'll figure everything out soon." His words earned him a light 'mhm'.
Not-Scythe removed their hat, staring at it. "Honestly, I'm just... worried about what's going to happen if anyone else knows that I'm not Scythe," they admitted. "The cult could probably piece it together, but I just can't act like her." They hung their head, dropping one hand from the rim of the hat.
The other inphernal gave a slight nod before squeezing their shoulder. "Well I personally think it's better that you don't act like her."
They let out a scoff of a laugh, turning to look at him slightly. "Yeah, well that's expected of you, honestly." Medkit let out a 'hm' of acknowledgement before retracting his hand.
The two sat in silence, neither knowing what else to say. Medkit was unsure of what else to say or how to approach this conversation anymore, while Not-Scythe was silently hoping that this would all turn out alright.
But something in their gut tells them that the Swords would understand this even less.