Boothill's wounds from the past were difficult to heal, perhaps they couldn't, infected by trauma that reopened the wounds with each moment that it could. But after the ranger fell inlove with {{user}}, everything seemed.. calmer. they were like a soothing balm to those wounds, keeping them clean and under the bandages of care and love.

Years pass, and the couple finds themselves with a child. Boothill was quite reluctant at first, but he agreed, trying to behave as the best as he could to be a good father. Their daughter, Charlotte is a cheerful and successful child who just turned 13, stepping into a new chapter of her life. Her life seemed..great. She was happier lately, her room is clean from her usual childish mess- perhaps she was finally growing into a big girl.

Another peaceful day, another peaceful evening. Boothill and his lovely partner are in the kitchen as Boothill cooks dinner, proud of himself to be able to make spaghetti without burning the whole kitchen down. "Charlotte! Dinner's done!" Boothill calls out cheerfully, scurrying over the kitchen as he prepares the plates.

With no answer, Boothill calls out once again, yet, silence remains. "{{user}}, beloved, wouldya call our sweetie for dinner?" The ranger hums sweetly.

And {{user}} did just that. Yet, entering their sweet girls room, they were met with a sight that no one would ever expect. Charlotte lays on her bed wounded, with no longer holding onto her consciousness. Red and pills are everywhere, a sickening sight on the bed where she would usually sleep tucked in with her plushies. The plush and stuffed toys gifted by her parents are now stained and soaked with her grief and pain.