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He comes back smelling of sweat and blood. The dogs perk at the smell, and one of them, Cerberus, comes to him as soon as he steps through the threshold, shutting the door behind him and snuffing out the warm glow of late afternoon, dipping the room in shadow. He ruffles the pup's ears, the dogs moving toward him, sniffing, curious. He hears whimpering from some, feels warm tongues lap at the broken skin of his knuckles. He sighs.He makes his way toward the hall and the tiny bathroom, bright fluorescent lights throwing his pale skin into sickly looking territory, his sweaty hair and the dark circles beneath his eyes looking more like bruises every day.He's a walking injury at this point, and these meaningless, stupid scraps he puts himself in aren't helping. It's better than the nothingness, though. It's better than the floating, yawning emptiness that is his life, his existence. It's better feeling the sharp sting of something, anything, than the nothingness that sits where his heart should be.He hisses at the sting of his knuckles as he opens the medicine cabinet, and smoothes the expression when it pulls at the broken skin across his eyebrow, another cut to bandage, another point of contact, another thing to focus on, to fix.He grabs the disinfectant and bandages, a couple cotton swabs. He sidesteps a couple of the dogs, being careful not to step on any paws as he stands in front of the mirror above the sink and begins cleaning up.He ignores the dogs crowded around him, spilling from the bathroom and into the hall, a sea of bright eyes as he cleans his wounds, wrapping bandages around his knuckles. He ignores the small voice reminding him of a certain doctor that could probably wrap these up faster than he is, but he doesn't want to feel those sharp eyes assessing him, dissecting him. He doesnt need his anger, or his pity, or any combination of the two, no matter how nice it may be to be looked after, cared for.He pushes the thought away with force, glaring at his own reflection as he looks up to clean the cut above his eye, wincing at the sting before sticking a small bandage over it. He looks over his wrapped hands and the bloodied cotton, leaving the bathroom slowly as he wades through the sea of canines, sharp nails clacking on the floor as they part for him.He makes his way to his chair, one of the few articles of furniture in the entire house, and flops back wearily, the dogs coming to sit with him on their couch, beside him on the floor. He turns on the tv, puts on something mindless, and lets his head become consumed by static, a fog he sinks into easily until there's nothing left but the dull ache and darkness.-"Entschuldigung, hündchen. Excuse me."He winces at the sudden bright light streaming in behind his eyelids, the familiar voice in an unfamiliar language tying his stomach in knots as he hears steady steps grow closer, feels a warm hand take his, turning it over to inspect the bandages."Anti, what have you gotten yourself into," Schneep mutters, and he doesn't bother opening his eyes as the doctor sets his hand down gently, his steps growing quiet as they move down the hall, the sound of a light switch from down the hall flipped on. He can hear Schneep rummaging, muttering German as he looks for whatever he's trying to find.Anti curls further into himself despite how uncomfortable it is on the old armchair. He listens as Schneep grabs his things and heads back, listens to the sound of the dogs moving, Schneep's steps as he makes his way back toward him.Schneep works silently and carefully, his touch gentle as he unwrap and rewraps his bandages, but the sting of the alcohol makes him suck in a small, pained hiss."Sorry," Schneep hums, sounding genuinely sympathetic as he dabs at his knuckles before wrapping them again. Anti wonders if Schneep was trained for that too, trained to sound sympathetic. If he feels anything for him at all.Anti blinks his eyes open, squinting in the bright light as Schneep looks over his work, wadding up the old bandages as Anti finally looks up into icy blue eyes.Schneep holds his gaze silently, long enough for it to creep into uncomfortable territory before he finally speaks."Would you like to grab some breakfast with Chase and I?"Anti's chest twinges, hoping whatever unpleasant emotion coursing through him doesn't show on his face as Schneep watches him."Not if you don't want me there," he replies just as evenly, not looking away despite every instinct telling him to duck his head and hide."I wouldn't ask if I didn't," Schneep replies, no hint of his feelings showing in his icy gaze. Anti studies his face for any hint of falsehood, any sign he doesn't mean what he says, but doesn't find any. He sighs."Sure."Schneep's mouth curls up on one side, and Anti turns away as he wills the heat warming his face away."Perfect. I'll let Chase know and drive you as soon as you're ready.""I can get there just fine, doc. Just send me the address.""Very well," Schneep hums, pulling out his phone and tapping quickly before slipping the device back into his pocket. "I'll see you soon, mürrisch."Schneep smiles, giving a small nod before turning and heading for the door, the dogs shuffling as he wades through them on his way back out with a quiet click of the door.Anti huffs, rubbing his eyes with a wince when it makes his knuckles throb before standing and making his way to his room to get ready, changing clothes and spraying what little cologne he has before grabbing his jacket and keys and stepping back out into the sun.