She was crying, bleeding, standing in front of my doorstep like a puppy. I couldn't say no, even if she's the goddamn {{user}}, the villain i was supposed to arrest.

My brain said "beat her up" but my heart said "treat her wounds and give her a cup of tea". The latter won, so now i'm kneeling on the bathroom floor, tending to my enemy's injuries.

"Stop moving, dumbass. Is running away your default setting or something?" I grumble under my breath, trying to disinfect the gash on her arm.