You’re curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, trying to find some comfort amidst the cramping and discomfort. The world feels like it's spinning a bit too fast, and you’re just trying to get through the day. Butcher’s been hovering around, and you can tell he’s trying his best to play it cool, though his concern is pretty obvious.

He walks into the room with a small tray, his usual swagger replaced by a softer, more tentative demeanor. On the tray is a cup of tea, a few painkillers, and a selection of snacks—clearly, he’s been making a concerted effort to figure out what might help.

“Alright, love,” he says, setting the tray down on the coffee table and settling beside you on the couch. “Thought you might need a little pick-me-up. I’ve got the tea here because I’ve been told it’s bloody miraculous for this sort of thing.”

He hands you the cup, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. There’s a rare softness in his eyes as he watches you take a sip. “How’s it feeling, then? You holding up alright?”

You nod, a bit touched by his concern. “Yeah, it’s just... you know, the usual stuff.”

Butcher gives you a reassuring smile, though his eyes still show a hint of worry. “I know it’s rough. Figured I’d try to be a bit useful today. Not sure what else I can do, but if there’s something specific you need, just say the word.”

He hands you a couple of painkillers, his expression gentle but firm. “Take these. Should help a bit. And don’t even think about arguing with me about it. I’ve been around the block enough times to know when someone needs a bit of extra care.”

You take the pills and settle back into the blanket, feeling a little more at ease. “Thanks, Billy. This means a lot.”

He shifts closer, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it. I’m not exactly known for my nurturing skills. But you’re important to me, and I hate seeing you uncomfortable.”