067. [dottore x male reader.]

11. realizations.

tw; i don't think this is really a trigger but the word "fag" is used (i can reclaim) 

dottore didn't come see you for a few days and it instilled great worry in you. you wanted to see him and be his little .. "special assistant" as zandice worded it. zandice was the one who started to see you in the mornings, give you your booster shots and to do the little "mental stimulants" with you. he'd also supply you with a small amount of blood for every question you got right. it's a small reward that you enjoyed, and zandice was always sure to write that down.

he'd write down every small question you got right on a piece of paper, though he wrote everything down. everything you asked, said, all the answers to the weirdly specific questions he'd ask. he'd ask you about your mental health, how you were feeling health wise, about your family. he even asked you a few times to stand up and exercise: jumping jacks, push ups (which you could not do for the life of you,) running in place, squats, etc. 

your brain started to progress back to a "normal" state as zandice was your provider. you found yourself speaking in more full sentences as you were exposed to sentence structure and new words you never heard of before. you were able to think for yourself, able to dictate what you're feeling on certain times. zandice would always walk in, bag of blood in hand to excite you, and instantly ask - "how are you feeling?". if you responded with the actual emotion, instead of "good" and "bad" and "icky",  the blood bag was yours. 

zandice never revealed to you what made your brain become more ... normal. it could've been the sudden gain in nutrients that your body needed through the blood, or it could've been the mental activities that dottore planned out for you, or the booster shots. or, better yet, it could've been all of them at the same time. 

zandice looked a lot like dottore, almost like a spitting image of him, if dottore were younger. it eased some of your worries about you ... missing dottore and if he were okay. you couldn't tell, exactly, what the feelings you felt for the man were; but you could guess they weren't normal when zandice's expression changed the moment you asked him about it. 

  "explain that, please, 067," zandice asked in a calm manner. he was more gentle with you than both zander and dottore, himself, though he didn't give you any special rewards, minus the blood your body needs, for doing what he asked of you. he also never gossiped with you like how zander would. he never revealed anything interesting about dottore or the place you resided in. 

  "i miss dottore," you spoke, again, repeating yourself. you had told zandice this just earlier, so it was ... odd for him to ask you to explain further. it's pretty straight forward, isn't it? you missed the man that calls you all those pretty names that make your heart throb and swoon, that would make your heart beat for him... your heart beats for him. you didn't think about that, until now. 

your face always went red whenever dottore spoke to you, even if he wasn't calling you those pretty names you adore. when he'd poke fun at you, or even when he'd yell, your face still flushed. your heart would beat quicker and pound in your chest when he got near you. and .. the time when you had blood on your lips, which resulted in dottore's thumb wiping it way, you swooned. your face had instantly became a bright shade of crimson when that incident happened, you were sure it did. your body did always betray you - telling people the exact thing you felt in certain moments. 

   "... you miss the doctor? how do you know for sure?" zandice's voice was quiet, before he started speaking, like he had to think of a certain way of how to word his statement. 

  "i was sad when you walked in and not him," you replied quickly.  that isn't a lie, by any means. you missed his banter with you, how he'd sit in front of you and stare at you through that mask of his. you missed how he would give you short little "mhm" and "hm" responses when you asked detailed questions he couldn't tell you the answer to. you missed how he watched you as you ... sliced open the child and gave you small words of praise when you did good, even rewarding you like a pet. 

 "does my presence upset you?" was all zandice asked. 

 "no, i just wanted dottore," was your answer.

 "the doctor's busy at the moment, 067, you can't see him. you're stuck with me all day."

 "what's he busy with?"

 "i can't disclose that to you," zandice sighed as he placed the wooden clipboard, that looked similar to dottore's, on the table before you. the two of you had been reading "Dracula" together, though, zandice had to explain to that some of the words in the book have a new meaning now; like the word "fag" and the ... racial slur in the book, starting with the letter "c", "please, continue reading." 

 "i read four chapters already," you complain as your s/t fingers turn the page. there's nothing wrong with the book; you didn't hate it. you just wished to stop and do something else. something more relaxing. 

 "do you want a break? i can go get your lunch, 067."

ah, the human food. it isn't all that bad, honestly. the times you were given it were usually the days you asked for it, like on the day of the week where you'd always receive {favorite frozen meal (like pizza rolls/chicken nuggets)}. sometimes it would be undercooked, but you couldn't complain too much. you were being fed, after all.

  "please, zandice." 

  "i will, after you answer a quick question of mine."

   "hm?"

  "why does dottore refer to you as his sweet?" zandice asked you in a slightly .. different tone. you couldn't quite grasp at what tone or emotion it was conveying, but from the way his lips pressed into a tight line, you could tell it wasn't a good one. 

  "i don't know. it started after i told him about zander," you answered with a small shrug of your shoulders. 

  "hm, i see, so the names have been going on ... for a while?" he asked.

  "yes," you didn't know what else to say. there were so many words you could've used, you could've rambled on about how you felt about them but you didn't. there were so many words, yet no way to phrase them. 

  "does he ... act different around you?" 

  "what do you mean?"

  "i mean, different, like more ... physical."  

  "more physical..?"

  "does he touch you? either sexually or not."

  "... sexually, no. not sexually, yes. once he wiped blood off of my lips with his thumb, other times he ruffles my hair."

  "... i see. i'm going to grab your lunch," zandice sighed as he stood up from the chair and headed towards the door. he left the clipboard on the table. 

he left your charts on the table.