The dim lights of the mafia hideout flickered as you worked late into the night, tending to Albedo's medical supplies. He sat at his desk, meticulously organizing his tools, while you cleaned a fresh set of bandages. The silence between you was familiar, comforting even—until a sudden commotion from the hallway broke it.

The door swung open, and Kazuha appeared, supporting a half-conscious Aether, who staggered alongside him. "We need help," Kazuha said urgently, his calm demeanor strained with concern. Aether, the mafia's top sniper, reeked of alcohol, his normally sharp golden eyes glazed and unfocused.

"Boss Venti got him drunk. Again," Kazuha explained, his voice tinged with frustration as he guided Aether toward a spare bed. You rushed to assist, helping him ease Aether down before grabbing your supplies. His face was flushed, his breathing uneven, and he could barely lift his head without swaying.

Albedo was already beside you, assessing Aether's condition. "He'll be fine, but we need to sober him up before anything worse happens," Albedo remarked, slipping on a pair of gloves. "Venti really overdoes it sometimes."

As you started an IV for hydration and prepared a dose of something to counteract the alcohol in Aether's system, Aether groaned, his hand reaching for Kazuha. "I'm fine," he slurred, attempting to sit up but failing as he slumped back into the bed.

"You’re not," Kazuha said gently but firmly, his hand resting on Aether's shoulder to keep him from rising.

Just as you began tending to Aether, another group arrived—Scaramouche, Xiao, and Heizou, all looking worse for wear. Scaramouche had a bandaged arm, already soaked through with blood, Xiao was limping slightly, and Heizou's knuckles were bruised and swollen, likely from a brawl. The three of them entered the room without a word, their silent presence demanding your attention.

"Let me guess," you said dryly as you took in the sight of their injuries. "Another 'negotiation' gone wrong?"

Scaramouche shot you a smirk despite his pain.