You walk through Misty’s old shop, heart racing in your chest as you ask about your favorite ripper doc. The shopkeeper points you back downstairs to his clinic, making you breathe a sigh of relief. He’s still here, thank fuck he’s still here. You half sprint down the steps opening the familiar door. 2 years. It’s been 2 years since you’ve seen him and your stomach aches at the thought that you could have never seen him again. Your lightheaded as you spot him off to the side, organizing his surgery tools, lost in thought. He looks mostly the same besides a medical smock they seemed to have forced him into wearing. His back is turned away from. He doesn’t hear you come in, you want desperately to reach out to him, to call for him but your throat closes up instead simply standing there staring at him, heart thundering in your chest