The Scrybe of Curiosities (Inscryption, P03 x Reader)

🩸Chapter 7, Reciprocity

-P03's point of view-

the last thing they saw was a light blue light approaching them.

He went as fast as he could. After seeing Y/N's situation on the proxy bot, they weren't sure they had much time. 'How the hell will I find them? They were so deep in the forest..' Thought P03, before the dim greens and browns were disrupted by the red, gnarled shape that lay across the bridge. It was dark, but as P03 drew closer, he was sure it was Y/N. Their distinct tail—that now resembled an old dog toy more than a fishtail—identified them instantly. P03 tried to pick them up, but struggled, having only one arm and all that. They finally settled with Y/N's arms wrapped around P03's neck, their head laying on his shoulder, and holding them under their knees with the arm they had. Y/N was practically folded in half, given their height, but it would have to do until P03 could get them somewhere safe.
They didn't know if it was worth it to go all the way back to the factory, it felt too far. 'Y/N needs medical attention ASAP.' P03 thought, pushing the strange feeling in their chest back down. 'Grimora.' He thought, 'She definitely has some organic medical junk, and her island is right here.' They were already at the bridge to Grimora's island, and despite how scary a graveyard in the dead of night may seem, it was actually quite safe. All that posed a threat usually wouldn't attack unprovoked.
P03 continued into Grimora's island, passing every headstone and rushing east across a second, smaller bridge. At last, the mausoleum came into clear view, an eerie turquoise glow came from inside, but that was rather normal for this place. P03 rushed in, only now realizing how much blood was on them, how much Y/N had trailed behind them, how much blood they had lost. "GRIMORAAAA!!" P03 yelled, loud enough to wake the dead. "Goodness gracious, what could it be at this hour..?" Grimora mumbled, coming in from an adjacent room. "Y/N! Some f*%&ing wolves got them- and thorns- they're bleeding—" "Calm yourself, P03. Follow along." She said, leading them to what looked like a morgue. "NO! TO HELP THEM!!" P03 screamed, looking at the caskets. "Worry not, dearie. It is not their time just yet. I have some bandages here to help them, just set them on that table right there." She pointed to a metal table on wheels, presumably for cadavers. P03 did as they were told, setting Y/N down on the proportionally short table, watching blood drip from their hands and feet onto the cold, marble flooring. "All you'll need will be in that closet over there," Grimora pointed to a door across from the entrance. "it's organized alphabetically. I trust you know how to 'repair' the living?" She smirked, unbothered by the situation. "So you're not gonna help?? They could die Grimora!" P03 barked, Grimora didn't so much as bat an eye. "They're your friend, I'm sure they'd rather you fix them up." Her polite smile was smug, somewhat teasing P03 for being so worried, and she waltzed out of the room. "F&*@, fine!" P03 said, quickly running into the closet. 'Towel, disinfectant, gauze, suture. Towel, disinfectant, gauze, suture.' They quickly floated about, retrieving the items they needed, balancing them in their claw precariously. Returning to Y/N, they immediately knew they had to treat the bite on their ribs first. They knew they had gills there, and remembered their strange semi aquatic respiratory system.

🩸Gore starts here🩸

He held the towel against their ribs, watching blood gush out the gills on their neck. 'Fuck, I'll have to clean that out..' they realized, going and filling a bottle with tap water, and washing out their upper gills. The red stream slowly went clear, and they pressed the towel down again, keeping even, heavy pressure on the wound, until it slowly stopped bleeding. They pulled the towel away, grabbing the disinfectant spray and applying it to the wound. They noticed Y/N squirm a bit 'Wow, they're not lying when they say this shit stings..' P03 thought, surprised Y/N had moved at all, but ecstatic to have more than just a pulse. They quickly put a gauze pad on the wound, and wrapped their ribs all the way around with some gauze roll. Next was the bite on their forearm, it looked like the chunk of flesh had been almost ripped off entirely. They grabbed another clean towel, and put pressure on it, making sure he was pressing the chunk of flesh back into the arm, rather than pushing it farther off. Once it had stopped bleeding—or at least stopped gushing—he disinfected it and grabbed the suture kit, taking out a curved needle and some thread made from cat intestines. 'Archaic...' They shuddered, threading it into the needle. They stitched the wound shut, and wrapped it as well to be safe. Half their ear was bitten clean off, so there wasn't much to do other than patch it up like most of the other wounds, although they felt bad they couldn't do more.
They patched the rest of the wounds, and removed all the thorns—even the ones that had dug into their deep muscle tissue—and gave them some fluids through an IV. He couldn't bare to leave, though. The idea that something could happen, something would go wrong, the incessant worry they felt kept them there, watching the hours tick by.

🩸Gore ends here🩸

'Why should I care? All they do is distract me from my work. Just like the other Scrybes say, I'm just a robot. It would've been better if they died, the problem would be solved, but no. I had to be all mushy and save them, and now the problem continues!
If I had half a brain I'd kill them here. Grimora would just think they died of blood loss, the other Scrybes don't care about them all that much, and I would be able to work carefree.'
He looked at Y/N again, it would be so easy, they wouldn't even need a weapon. It would be over in seconds.
And yet,
He couldn't bring himself to do it.
'What is wrong with me?! It's the right play. The solution to my problem is right here.' They put their hand on Y/N's neck, but they couldn't do it. Memories of Y/N cleaning them off, the damp rag against the side of their screen,
'Y/N cares about me.
I can't lose them.
Not after all they've done.'
P03 finally realized something they had suppressed for far too long. That feeling, the feeling they desperately tried to kill, the feeling they shoved back down their chest when it dared to flutter up,
they loved that feeling.
It was like an addiction, in the hours they had kicked Y/N out, they craved it. They yearned for those little hugs and pats they pretended to despise. Longed for their voice, no matter how much they rambled. They couldn't lose them, not after all he felt.

Y/N stirred, P03 didn't dare move, as the watched Y/N's bloody hand reach up to theirs. P03 looked at them, their claw trailed up Y/N's neck up to their cheek, and the voice they needed most rung through their microphone.
"Good morning, sunshine."