The Villain and Hero (A Hermitcraft AU Rewrite)

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Ten minutes turned to twenty. And twenty turned to thirty. Finding it too painful to move, Doc found himself watching the blood on the floor soak between the wood paneling. But not just any blood. His blood. Perhaps it was the fact the blood was on the floor and not in his veins, but he found it quite mesmerizing. Pretty even. Sparkling droplets shimmering in the evening light. He was just nodding off when a series of small, soft thuds alerted him to the arrival of one at his bedroom door.

"Took you long enough."

"I, unlike you, have friends who ask questions when I suddenly try to leave a gathering."

Doc knew he was right, as much as he hated to admit it., even to himself. He watched as his ex-employee and current savior sauntered into the room.

"What happened this time?"

"Just help me."

"I could leave."

"I was attacked by someone I used to call a friend. Is that good enough to satisfy your curiosities?"

"I suppose. Now roll over so I can see the damage."

Doc did as instructed, groaning as he redisturbed his wounds.

"This friend of yours got you good."

"Shut up."

"Where's the rest of your arm?"

Doc gestured with his intact arm, pointing to where Canem once stood over him.

"This is gonna hurt."

"Did you not remember painkillers?"

"I did, but they cost extra."

"How much extra?"

"An apology."

Doc grimaced. "I'll deal without."

"Thought so." The man said with a sneer. "Hold still." He picked up Doc's left side and placed a blanket under him so that his wounds faced upwards. The cyborg cried out loudly as the man poured alcohol over the wound, and then hissed quietly as he began picking small pieces of metal out of his shoulder. It was only when he started on the larger pieces that Doc got concerned. "Wait. I need those for the new arm."

"No, you don't. When I still worked for you, I spent quite a lot of time working on a new arm for you. When you fired me, I kept working on it. I don't know why. Just felt like I needed to."

"What are you saying?"

"What does it sound like, idiot?"

He kept working, patching up the remaining parts of the shoulder he didn't need for the new arm before implanting the new base pieces. They were not a metal Doc recognized other than when it was first implanted in his arm. As far as he understood, it connected his metal arm to his living mind, allowing it to be controlled as his living arm would be.

"What's it called again?"

"Netherite."

"And where is it from?"

"What's with the interrogation all of a sudden?"

"I know this next part hurts the worst and I need a distraction."

"Dang it, Doc." He heard the man rustle around in the bag he brought. "Take this."

Doc swallowed the bright red liquid and sighed, all the pain dissipating in a second.

"That stuff is strong. Where'd you get it?"

"None of your business."

"Fine, keep your secrets."

"I will, thank you very much. Count to three with me. One-"

"Two... F*ck! What happened to three?"

"-three. Was that so bad?"

"Yes! How did it still hurt with the... with the... with the whatever you gave me?"

"Maybe it only really works on good people."

"Ha ha ha."

"Try it out."

Doc rolled his shoulders and raised his metal arm. It was a smooth motion, much smoother than his old one ever had been. When he turned his hand and flexed his fingers, it felt natural, almost real. No twitching, no jittering, no crunching of gears. "This is incredible."

No response. He was already packing up his things.

"Don't you want to admire it too? It's your creation after all."

"It never belonged to me. It was always yours. Just like everything else I did for you." The man growled. He grabbed his bag, stood up, and turned on his heel to leave.

"I'm sorry."

The man paused. "What?"

"You said the medicine cost an apology."

"It pays for nothing if you don't mean it."

"I do. Mean it, I mean."

"We'll see about that. If you mean what you say, you'll do one more thing for me."

"Name it."

"Lose my contact." He stepped out of the room with no further word.

It wasn't until he was far out of the building that Doc moved for his phone. Still smeared with blood from earlier, and still on his call screen, Doc's finger hovered over the delete button. A minute passed, then another. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. The phone clambered to the floor as Doc loosened his grip.

"I'm sorry, Mumbo, but I can't do that just yet." 

803 Words 

^ were you right? :}