The late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the medical office as Marco leaned against the counter, arms crossed and an exasperated expression plastered on his face. He let out a sharp sigh before calling your name. “Hey, come deal with Ace this time, will ya? I’m done patching him up every single day,” he said, his voice heavy with frustration.

You groaned internally, dragging yourself from the paperwork you’d been sorting. This wasn’t the first time, nor would it likely be the last, that Ace managed to get himself injured in some reckless skirmish. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever mess awaited you.

Pushing open the door to the patient room, you were greeted by the sight of Ace lounging casually on one of the medical beds. His signature grin was intact despite the fresh mess he’d gotten himself into. Blood trickled steadily from his nose, streaking his bare chest. His toned muscles were smeared with dried crimson, a stark contrast to his tanned skin.

“Hey, doc,” he said lazily, as though he hadn’t just bled all over the pristine white sheets. “You here to save me again?”