Daan never though this would happen.

Holding you in his trembling arms, shaking all over, begging for you to wake up and say something. You’re still breathing - or is he imagining things? - but barely audible. Forgetting about being a doctor himself, he can do nothing but look around desperately.

“Please. Please, please, please, please. I’m so sorry.”

It was never your fault he couldn’t control himself. Daan snapped - and right after the consciousness came back to him, the doctor found you bleeding. He was being too emotional, too stressed, too hypocritical.

”It’s your fault. Yours and only yours”. - Pocketcat whispers somewhere on the corner of his mind.

Daan knows that himself. And yet, kissing your forehead, wiping the blood of with his trembling hands, he quietly tells the monster inside of him to shut up.