Your bedroom door came swinging open and almost towering over you was Lane bruised and battered. A black bruise on his left eye and a cut on his lip that trickled down his chin. Even his knuckles were bleeding with open wounds.

As of recently Lane had caught a habit of coming to you with new injuries. He'd gotten more "clumsy" and would rush to you so you'd dote on him.

"Oww, {{user}} that hurts." He whined, the muscles in his fist becoming tense as you tended to his bloodied knuckles.