Chapter Text
Sunday. Trash day. Medkit’s least favourite day. His trashcan was never full until the very end of the week, but by that time the dumpster was already filled to the brim with the trash of the other tenants of his apartment complex, which meant that it smelt horrible and he had to spend more time there than he wanted to making sure his trash didn’t fall on the floor.
It was early morning; the sun had barely risen and those who had work that morning were only just getting up. The few hours between Medkit taking out his trash and other tenants who had yet to take out theirs did very little to affect the fullness of the dumpster, but Medkit still preferred the extra time. The cold morning air bit at his skin as he trudged his way outside, trash bag in hand. Medkit thanked his lucky stars that the dumpster was less full than usual, meaning he was able to throw it away without issue.
Something on the floor caught his attention. Next to the dumpster was an envelope. On the front, marked in black ink, was his own name. It was relatively clean considering where it was, so it couldn't have been there that long.
Something other than the cold gave him goosebumps. He certainly didn't put that there, so who did? And what was in it? He hurried to pick it up and shove it into his pocket before speed-walking back to his apartment.
The moment the front door was shut and locked behind him, he pulled the letter out of his pocket. The envelope was just one of those basic white ones made for birthday cards. There was nothing written on it other than ‘Medkit’ right in the middle in black ink. He sat at his dining table, almost immediately opening it up. Nothing could’ve possibly prepared him for what he read.
I know you’re surprised to receive something like this from me. I’m still surprised that I’m actually giving it to you. I’ve spent months writing and rewriting and contemplating going through with it at all because whatever I write will never properly articulate the way you make me feel.
My feelings for you are like a double-edged sword. Sometimes, your coldness absolutely crushes me. You look at me like you’re looking at an insect and brush me off like I'm nothing more than dust on your shoulder. It hurts a lot more than it should because I know you aren’t trying to hurt me.
Other times, you make me feel light on my feet, like no amount of weight in the world would ever feel too heavy. Knowing that you’re there is enough to spark a kind of confidence that I can't get anywhere else, like I don't have to think too hard about anything because I know you’re always there regardless of how dumb you think what I’m doing is.
It’s because I trust you, Medkit. As a healer, as a teammate and even as a friend. And I’m willing to wait as long as I have to for you to trust me back.
Watching you phight feels like watching the wind dance over water. You’re silent and determined, never yearning for or trying to gain anyone’s attention. And yet you still cause ripples and easily cement yourself as something I struggle to imagine life without. Never once have you tried to gain my attention, but you have all of it anyways. If I didn’t like you so much, I’d probably be a little jealous.
I really wish I could look you in the eye and say what I've written to you in person. But being near you is enough to make me feel more nervous than anything else in the world. Catching your eye is enough to make my brain scramble like someone’s picked it up and shook all the words around until I'm only left with what’s within my comfort zone.
I’ve spent the last few months caught in the trap of overthinking every little interaction we have as I desperately try to figure you out, based on the limited things I’m able to talk to you about without my brain short circuiting. I’ll never stop trying though, because you’re worth trying for. I want to know who you really are, Medkit. And I want you to know I really am, too.
Take as long as you need to get back to me. I’m not going anywhere ♡
This was the first time in his life he struggled to process something he’s read.
He double checked both the letter itself and the envelope it came in. Sure enough, the only name on it was his own. Was he supposed to know who this was? The way it was written certainly implied that, but he didn't recognise their handwriting. Was the culprit expecting some kind of response? Surely not if they had tried to throw it out. He ended up tossing it to the side and trying to move on with his day. If the writer couldn’t give him their name, then he didn't have to give a response. Out of sight, out of mind.
That unfortunately did not end up happening. The letter still lingered at the back of his mind and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to simply throw it away, like the writer intended. It took all of two hours for him to crack and tell Sword. His friend genuinely didn't believe him until he sent a photo of the letter, the neat words written in black ink clearly legible. All he got in response was ‘I’m coming over’. Medkit knew trying to argue or tell him it wasn’t that big of a deal would fall on deaf ears.
“So you definitely don’t recognise the handwriting?” Sword asked, sitting in the chair next to him and scanning over the letter.
“No.”
“Huh..any ideas who the culprit might be?”
“I’m thinking it’s another phighter.”
“Someone we both know? This is getting good.” Sword grinned, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper.
“What are you doing?”
“Writing the names of everyone so we can cross them off as we go.”
“Why? It was more than likely some kind of prank anyway. Who would throw something like this away and not make sure it actually made it into the trash?”
“Someone forgetful? As in forgetful enough to forget to write their name on it?”
“Ok, fine. Maybe it’s real. But I’m 30. Giving a love letter is something a 13 year old would do, why would I concern myself with something like this?” Medkit huffed.
“Have you ever received a love letter before?”
“Of course not.”
“Then there’s your reason, it’s something new. Besides, aren't you at least a little curious to find out who your secret admirer is?”
As much as Medkit hated to admit it, he most definitely was. He knew Sword wasn’t expecting a response; like he already knew what the answer to his question was.
“Should we include Valk and Dom?” He continued on.
“I guess?”
“Ok so…everyone except you and me..” Sword trailed off as he finished writing the last few names. They surveyed the list for a moment.
“We can rule out anyone from Blackrock.” Medkit said bluntly.
“Yeah, true..” Sword crossed out the names of Subspace, Biograft, Hyperlaser and Rocket.
“Why did you cross out Ro- actually, nevermind. I already know.”
“Yeah, if he likes you he’d definitely tell me.”
“Not what I was alluding to but it doesn't matter.” Medkit mused. Sword went a little red but chose not to respond.
“Who else can we rule out..”
“We can compare handwriting, no?”
“Oh, good point. Valk and Dom are celebrities, there’s bound to be a picture of their handwriting floating around somewhere.” Sword pulled his phone out of his pocket a little more hurriedly than Medkit thought was necessary.
It took a 2 second google search to find what they were looking for; handwritten letters to Flipside’s official fanclub, neither of which were a match.
“That’s probably a good thing. Dating a celebrity would come with a lot of baggage.” Sword hummed.
“Who said I was going to date whoever wrote it?”
“You won’t at least consider it?”
“I never said that. Though I doubt I will.”
“Even after reading what they wrote?”
“The letter is..very flattering, sure,” Medkit’s cheeks felt a little warm, “But why would I go out with someone I don’t know well? They recognise in the letter itself that they don't know me well either, so why would they want to go out with me? The whole thing just seems unfounded.”
“You’re entitled to make your own choices. But maybe don't write it off so quickly? Relationships take time, you’ll never know until you give it a shot.”
“...I suppose it depends on who it is.”
“See? That’s better, now who else?”
“Banhammer. I’ve seen his handwriting, it’s absolutely abysmal.”
Sword chuckled at that, striking the warden’s name from the list. A brief silence fell between them as they tried to think of anyone else.
“Could it be Boombox?” Sword piped up.
Medkit was genuinely taken aback.
“There’s no way.”
“I don't know, he seems to like you.”
“Does he like me or does he like annoying me? Besides, the day he writes a letter is the day the inphinity collapses in on itself. Especially one like that.” Medkit shook his head at the ridiculous notion of it possibly being him.
“So we’re definitely ruling him out?”
“Yes.”
Sword didn’t respond, only drew a single line through the DJ’s name.
“I think that’s everyone for now.” The red-horned demon dropped the pen and leant back into his chair. That was 8 names gone already.
“We should leave it there.”
“Yeah. If we overthink it we might end up crossing off the actual culprit.” Sword nodded.
The two spent the rest of the day watching whatever was on TV, although Medkit found himself unable to pay attention. From beside him, Sword mentioned something about it being staged; he didn’t know what was supposedly staged, but he tried his best to seem like he was paying attention regardless. Because pretending like he was invested in two middle aged women arguing seemed a little less embarrassing than being invested in a love letter he was more than likely never supposed to read. Sword eventually had to head home. He took a photo of the list and said something about ‘being on the lookout’. The moment Sword shut the front door behind himself, Medkit found himself at his dining table once again, reading the letter over and over.
Only out of curiosity.