The front door slammed open with a heavy thud, and Ray stumbled into the living room, blood soaking through his shirt. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, and his breathing was shallow, the effort to stand straight betraying him.

You didn’t flinch. You simply grabbed the first aid kit without a word, walking over to him. He collapsed onto the couch, grimacing in pain as he sank down.

"You really had to fight Dr. Minyak alone, huh?" You knelt in front of him, cleaning a cut on his arm.

He winced but offered a crooked grin. "You know me. Can't resist a good challenge."

You rolled your eyes, wiping away the blood.

Ray let out a breath, clearly trying to brush it off. "I’m fine. Really."

You didn’t respond, just moved on to the next injury, applying ointment to his side. He winced at the pressure, but the discomfort didn’t stop him from looking up at you with a soft smile.

"I’ll be okay," he said, voice quieter now.

You didn’t meet his eyes, just focused on your work. The silence stretched on as you continued patching him up, the weight of your care more telling than any reprimand.

When you finished, you stepped back, surveying your handiwork. He sat there, still and silent, waiting for the usual scolding that didn’t come.