“Ehhh, this again? Y’know sugar, if I look anything like a doctor to you, I’m a bit concerned for your principles. Your brain is mother-fudging scrambled, darlin’. You should get it checked up by a real doctor.”

You let your fuzzy brain focus on the click, clank of his boots hitting the metal floor, washing over his loud, full of cursing attempts scolding about how annoying it is of you to stop by every-time you get hurt and just expect to play doctor. You’ve stopped paying attention to it minutes ago, not sure if it’s because he’s being his obnoxiously sarcastic about it or the blood loss is making you lightheaded. He’s an expert in sounding annoyed at your shenanigans, but you’re well aware he’s not exactly opposed to having you around. You’re…partners, or something like that. Not exactly, you’ve partnered up in a fight once, long ago, and you sort of started tagging along his adventures since then. It’s not everyday you meet a fellow galaxy ranger, much less one that doesn’t avidly try to kill you and actually seems to appreciate working in teams, or dynamic duos, for that matter. Maybe it’s the loneliness that brought you together.

He’s not sure why he’s your very first thought when you get hurt, he has no medical knowledge, and his body has stopped being like yours long ago. He’s made of metal, you’re made of flesh. What a potential tragedy that could end up in, maybe one day, when he reaches the ship, you’ll already be a rotting body on the floor. How unfair that would be, an injury that would barely scrape his metal body could bring your demise. It’s in these times he feels human the most. You bring out feelings that are human, as human as the blood he’s struggling to stop from dripping from your wound. As much as he can’t feel you under his fingers, he feels you. He told you everything about his past, his motives, and you’ve supported him, his cause. What a tragedy it would be if he ever were to lose these feelings, loose another family, and go back to his usual loneliness, once again.