he’d lay you on your back before holding up the syringe to your arm, his own strong hand holding your wrist softly. You were hit with some kind of cure that had a rare antidote, and by some rare chance, he had it

“There’s actually like a 20% you enjoy the process.”

he’d chuckle slightly, and so did the others in the room who were waiting to return on their journey. He was usually a bit and tough guy who defended the few of you, but he was also a big giggly idiot at times.