#havent posted swap stuff in a while so have this from the drafts...

[kaijucat01artblog]

Phighting! Swap AU Excerpt

“I’ll need you to remove the mask.” The earthshaking command was simple, plain, and painstakingly monotone delivered through Medkit’s voice - but for Boombox, Medkit might’ve well as ordered him to turn towards Skateboard and shoot him in the head. It was a death sentence. If not for Skateboard, for him. The swift battering of disapproval that always followed after he did what he was told was his silver bullet.

At his stillness, the doctor’s remaining eye narrowed, his gaze already riddled with the distaste Boombox despised. The quack doctor was probably used to everyone yielding under his glare the first time he utilized it; Boombox didn’t move an inch, provoking its cold iron to flip into even colder steel. 

“The mask,” He repeated. Skateboard visibly bristled out of the corner of Boomboxes’ eye, as spiky with rage as the prickly horn outcroppings jutting out of the doctor’s antlers.  “I cannot properly gauge your condition without seeing the extent of its damage.”

Only if you do the same, Boombox thought with a few inklings of humor. The guy’s mad-scientist’s-project eyepatch was an eyesore. “Can’t you?” He responded gravely. “The problem’s the horns, not my entire head.”

That earned him a sardonic snort unique to Medkit’s stuck-up self, only reserved for defamatory gossip about Subspace and people he called “impudent patients.” 

“Remains to be seen,” He exclaimed. “Your unintelligence is extraordinary.” Bringing a gloved hand to his face, he mimed a thinking motion. “You know what else remains to be seen? Your face so I can do what your petulant self asked me to and find out if this injury of yours is rectifiable.”

Skateboard returned the fatigued old man sassiness tenfold. “I thought Ultimate Healing could save anything,” He countered smoothly, sticking his nose into the air. “That’s what you bragged about, anyways. You shouldn’t need to see anything.”

Watching Medkit’s expression darken after his friend’s quip was actually a bit worrying. The maliciousness shining in his eye was something familiar, him having seen it countless times before when Medkit bore down on an enemy in rounds like a raving dog. Boombox didn’t want two demons with broken horns.

“Okay,” He interrupted Medkit before he could manage a rebuttal or bite Skateboard or inject him with cyanide or something. “Fine. I’ll take it off.”

Skateboard shot him a concerned look that he just barely caught before he lifted both of his hands to the sides of his helmet. The smooth material it was made out of seemed to cling to his fingertips, almost as if it didn’t want to be taken off.

Sorry, he mused. I don’t want you to go, either. He didn’t know why he felt so reluctant. He could care less about Medkit’s opinion and Skateboard had made it quite clear that he didn’t mind his face before. For some reason, whatever obstacle that caused his pause was intangible - flitting away whenever he tried to pin it down, like a bird. Maybe it was scared of him too. Maybe he was just so rotten that even his own mind didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

He wished he could fly away, too. He knew Skateboard didn’t mean to, but both his and Medkit’s gazes felt like metaphysical dissections. The issue wasn’t even his face. It was his horns. He had said that himself. 

Something light brushed his shoulder. He blinked under his part way off visor, meeting Skateboard’s stare. His red eyes were wide, see-through like stained glass - so easy to dust off and observe the going-ons behind them.

Boombox slipped the mask off. The hand on his shoulder squeezed reassuringly.

Medkit gave him a vapid smile, clearly ticked off. “There we go,” He said. “Not so hard, was it?”