Chapter Text
You bursted through the door to the laboratory, catching your breath as you clutched your arm, the fabric of your sleeve soaked in red.
Dottore was once again busy in his experiment. You could see him hunched over as he spread out blueprints on his workbench, a pen in his hand and a vial in the other. He also seemed to be mumbling to himself, but whatever he was muttering was none of your concern right now. You needed medical attention.
When he heard you rush inside, he turned around, and for a moment, he only observed your bloodied state.
Your knees buckled as you leaned onto the door for support. Even though you wanted to scream at him to move faster, all you managed to do was shoot him a glare. You couldn't say anything without gasping for air.
“There's no need to look at me like that,” He set down the objects he was holding. “Obviously, I'm not going to leave you bleeding on my floor.”
You wanted to raise your voice and ask him if he could move any faster, but all you could say was… “H-hurry!”
Instantly, you felt a pair of arms guide you towards a bed used for clinical trials. He lowered you down before moving around the room to gather all the materials he needed.
Not long after, he returned with a metal tray in his hands. You could hear the sound of steel clattering against the table beside the bed. He began taking off his gloves and replacing them with sterile ones.
As he leaned closer to examine your wound, you shut your eyes in preparation for the sting you were about to feel. He grabbed a syringe filled with anesthesia and injected the needle into your skin. Slowly, as he continued the process of treating you, you finally found yourself breathing properly again.
You exhaled, recalling all the events that happened tonight. It was deeply tiring—that was all you could say about it.
“Did you find more information?” The doctor spoke.
Your eyebrows scrunched. “Is that really the first thing you want to ask me?”
He didn't respond.
You grumbled. “I almost got myself killed back there. I need to proceed to a different method to collect data.”
Dottore selected different tools with utmost care, an unfazed expression painting his face. How were you giving up already? “All you had to do was travel into the woods to look for evidence, as simple as that. I do not understand why you find it so difficult to execute.”
“Well, for your information, I got ambushed by three ruin guards on the way. I don't even know how they got there.” You explained, raising your other hand that was still in good shape and showing him three fingers up. “It'd be stupid of me to continue the mission when they were out for my blood. Didn't you say that fleeing is wise?”
He smiled. “Yes. However…”
He reached for another tool and returned to look at you. You couldn't see his full features because of the beaked mask, but you knew that beneath that mask were pupils burning in red.
“It only shows your lack of strategy,” He continued. “You could've asked other subordinates to accompany you. Did you truly believe you could venture out there all alone?”
“Look, if three ruin guards nearly killed me, imagine what could've happened if I dragged more people on the mission.” You retorted. “Better to have one researcher injured rather than an entire party. At least I was thinking about how I can lessen the casualties.”
Dottore merely scoffed. “It seems like you are not as dedicated to your study as you stated before.”
You shrugged. “I don't know, maybe I just don't believe my study is worth putting myself in jeopardy.”
He raised his voice. “Then why join the Fatui?”
You laughed. “It's almost as if you're asking me why I was born in the House of Hearth.”
Tonight, he wasn't wearing his usual outfit. His white coat and feathered crow-like accessory was nowhere to be seen, solely replaced by a blue long-sleeved polo bound with black straps.
Your eyes traveled across the laboratory. Despite being a vast room, Dottore managed to consume almost every inch of it. There was a main table he used for experiments, bookshelves crammed with theses that aligned with his theories and ideologies, inventions he built with the help of his late segments, and a separate station meant for creating and combining chemicals.
You longed for the comfort of your quarters; you wished you were staring at your cozy bedroom windows instead of a ceiling filled with steel pipes and pendant lights. You closed your eyes, upset about the thought of wasting your time because of what happened.
As you drifted into thought, you noticed how Dottore was repeatedly wiping your arm, even after securing it with bandages.
“What is it?” You asked, opening your eyes and slowly lifting your head.
“Your hand…” He withdrew the cloth from your skin.
“What do you mean?”
“See it for yourself.”
He adjusted something in his mask, possibly his elemental sight, to see it more clearly. You couldn’t see them, but you knew his brows knitted in confusion as his eyes narrowed down to your hand.
The sheets rustled as you propped yourself up with your uninjured arm. You stared at the bandages and then to your hand. Your breath hitched when you couldn't catch a glimpse of it.
It disappeared.
“What the…” Your eyes widened. "What the hell!?"
All you could see was nothing but empty air where your hand should've been. When you raised your arm, you could still feel the weight of it. You thought of wiggling your fingers, and much to your surprise, you could still sense them moving. But… What in the world happened? Why couldn't you see your hand?
“It might be because of the syringe!” Your voice cracked as you accused him of your current predicament. “You planned this out!”
“Why, I’d never!” Dottore raised both of his hands in surrender. “As tempting as it would be to experiment on you in such a vulnerable state, I can assure you that anesthesia was the only thing I injected.”
Dottore’s fingers interlaced with your invisible ones. They could be sensed, but they couldn't be seen, and that was still a huge problem. He hummed in thought, eyes squinting as he brought your invisible hand closer to his face.
Soon, you watched him step away from the bed and head towards one of the tall bookshelves. For a moment, you stared back at your hand, the unsettling feeling still remaining in your chest as you observed what you had seen—or rather what you had not seen. Soon, you decided to rise to your feet and follow him.
He ran his forefinger along the spines of the books as he murmured each title he read. Finally, he found what he was looking for and pulled out a dusty book from the second-to-last row. His eyes skimmed across blocks of text as he swiftly flipped through the pages.
“You see, to achieve invisibility, chemicals must be involved.” He began, glancing at you for a moment. “Tria Prima is made up of three primary components which are salt, mercury, and sulfur. If combined, they have the capacity to change the physical properties of a subject.”
“There’s no way I just managed to interact with those chemicals all at once.” You looked back at your hand. “Are you sure there’s a chemical explanation for this? It’s such a far-fetched explanation.”
“I am not finished talking; there is another explanation.” He lifted his finger and pointed it towards the page where had stopped flipping. “Look here. This text suggests that while chemicals can be one of the primary ingredients in achieving invisibility, it can also be achieved by using the fifth element, or what we call quintessence.”
So it could also stem from alchemy. You hummed softly as you read through the page. There were intricate figures and tables drawn in black ink to give the reader a visual interpretation of such a complex topic.
One of your favorite activities was to bury yourself in literary pieces from different cultures. Some of those pieces mentioned the use of alchemy, which is why a memory evoked in you when you recognized the terms used in the page.
“It sounds similar to an old story I read before.” You stated. “Do you know about the invisible helmet? According to what I've read, it was said that the Alberich clan once asked an alchemist to create a cloak of invisibility to… Hold on… This still doesn't explain why my hand is invisible! There's no way I just triggered the fifth element out of nowhere!”
Dottore chuckled as you cut yourself off from rambling too much. He had witnessed this detail of yours countless times. The way you'd ramble, pause, and then refocus… The way you shifted from storytelling back to discussing the situation somewhat reminded him of himself.
“Well, if this explanation fails to satisfy us, then let's look for another.” He turned to another page. “Light can also be used to attain invisibility. It should flow around the object or pass through it without any disturbance such as shadows, reflections, or even the slightest dispersion. Hmm… Such perfection is almost difficult to achieve.”
“It makes sense, but… It's still not enough to explain what happened.”
“Indeed, it does not,” He closed the book. “How curious.”
You ran your fingers through your hair, stressing over the fact that you would be dealing with another problem. Initially, you thought you'd only be moping about your injured arm, but it seemed like Celestia had plans to intrude another problem in your already troubled heart.
Dottore could notice the stress on your face. Even though you were nowhere near your 60s yet, you seemed to have gained more wrinkles than he did. He could also notice the darkness of your eyebags and a few white hair strands hanging down your face. Another human flaw, he thought. Similar to ethics, stress is also a hindrance to scientific progress and development.
“I can't believe this is happening.” You exhaled. “How can I continue my thesis like this?”
“Speaking of thesis, this sounds very much like a tempting invitation to another wonderful study, no?”
“No,” You immediately denied his suggestion. “I don't find my predicament a potential research material, so I won't be making a study about it. Sorry.”
“Then I shall be the one to do so.”
You immediately shot him a glare when he dropped the pronoun from his lips. “Absolutey not.”
The corners of his mouth dropped. This was another kind of hindrance. How could you easily discard the opportunity to study a potential discovery regarding the concept of invisibility? The subject was already in your hands (or hand, rather). Which means its presence already lessened the burden of work you'd be doing if only you accepted his suggestion.
Both of you were researchers, but you still had your differences. And it was not only because you were an anthropologist while he was more of a scientist. Besides that, he was also eager to step over any limits just to reach his goals, while you, on the other hand, would still bother yourself with ‘morals.’ He always thought it was ridiculous of you to think like that.
People couldn't understand how the two of you even became lovers. Opposites truly attract, don't they? You supposed that Dottore liked having someone around who expressed resistance towards his ideas. To him, the pursuit of knowledge was most satisfying when it was challenged, specifically when someone dared to stand in his way. It would simply give him the chance to show others that he was above everything. He always got what he wanted.
“You know what? Let's just go to sleep. Let's worry about this by the time we've recovered our energy.” You took the book from him and placed it back on the shelf. “I’m tired, and you're tired, so let's just head to bed.”
He sneered. “Bold of you to assume I want to rest. I was conducting a different experiment right before you came into this laboratory, and I have no interest in taking a break until I've finished it.”
“Fine then! I’m leaving!” You snapped. “You make it sound like it was my fault for getting hurt.”
Dottore watched as you stormed out of the laboratory, pushing the doors open and stalking off towards the other wing of Zapolyarny Palace where your quarters were located.
Lack of emotional control. A hindrance yet again. Both of you had your outbursts from time to time, but in his point of view, he was the one who appeared more patient in the relationship. After all, he was a scholar, and patience is just one of the many values an intellectual like him should possess. Perhaps he should remind you of that sometime.
Soon enough, the laboratory fell into silence as he continued with his experiment for the night.
There were reasons why Dottore didn't want to involve you in his projects. He wanted to protect you, but that protection only made it seem as though he considered you weak, which he thought was evident from the ‘hindrances’ you possessed. In other words, you had flaws. You were too human. And most of his projects were all about enhancing humanity by discarding the things he viewed as unnecessary, and that included flaws.