Chapter 49: Hit and Run

Knuckle X Reader

Requested by: Guest

Genre: Confession


This was the third time I hung up my phone in the past two hours. Some people would just not take 'no' for an answer.

'Send in the next patient...' I called out the receptionist, as a rather distressed mother of a cat crashed in my chamber with her kitty secured in her chest with a brace. Her face screamed for help as she continued to comfort her awfully silent 'baby'. She looked at my face and unhooked her brace to show her baby to me.

'Please, Monty is not eating for two days... I don't know what to do...' she broke into tears, as I tapped the belly of the unfortunate feline on my counter. She was mostly okay, it was just a common cold which was causing the lack of appetite, but being a Vet who left her surgical career to treat those who cannot express their distress, I completely understood her emotions. In fact, 'understanding' would be a vast understatement: sometimes the parents of the patients, and the patients themselves affected me on a personal level. I wasn't good at being professional with the fluffy squad—no one with heart can be professional with them. Being professional with them is an abomination.

'She has a cold... she will be fine.' I smiled at her reassuringly, 'make sure you keep her medicated, and clean up her phlegm, if you are not uncomfortab-'

'What are you talking about? Monty is my baby, of course I will clean up her phlegm.' The cat mother answered, and her mouth carved up in a relieved smile, 'thank you doc, I will take care of her.' she left with lot of less anxiety than she had at the time she came.

She was the last patient today, and now, after a nice coffee, I can curl inside my blanket and read some good novels sitting on my nightstand.

'Dr._, there is a man who has a injured dog, and the poor baby looks really bad-'

Goodbye novel, it's gonna be an unhappy parting.

'Well, send him in...' I huffed and called on my assistant.

A rough looking man with an ostentatious pompadour and a menacing look thundered into my little chamber with a blood smeared puppy lying limply in his arms. Despite his intimidating stares, he came off as disturbed, anxious, apologetic and panicked, which did not somehow belonged in his face. I asked him to sit down as he buried his face in his hands. I spared a glance at him as I sutured the poor canine, and some unmistakable whimper escaped from his hands.

'You don't look the type to get along with dogs, and yet... here we are' I said with a dispassionate tone. People like him deserve no compassion as they need to be careful at the first time so they don't hit the poor animals in the street. People who cannot control their egoistic adrenaline on the road are worse than scums. People like him are better off from the world because people, who don't value lives, are abomination in the name of creation.

'Please... save him...' I was surprised at his tone.

'You don't say...' I answered coldly, and he looked up at my face, trying best to muster his glaring gaze, but... I have stitched up mountain lions before.

'You think... I did this?' he said, and his voice was rising in an alarming rate, 'you think that I... I did this to the poor baby...' I was really surprised at the choice of his words, and for some reason, it sounded convincing.

'Humour me... Mr?' I asked ambiguiously.

'Knuckle Bine...' he answered, 'Dr. _, its Knuckle Bine...'

'So... you tell me your story, while I treat this poor baby.' I looked up at him, trying to distract myself from the whimpers the puppy made and the unsteady breathing pathetically suggested by the rapid falling of his tiny ribcage.

'I was near the alley, as usual... ' I looked at him with suspicion as I added the last plaster in his legs and cradled him in my arms to comfort him, '-but not what you think I was doing...' he added with a nervous tone.

'Pray tell me...' I added with equal challenging tone, 'what I would think you were doing?'

He avoided the question with a nervous clearing of throat and avoiding my gaze, he looked on the floor with his eyes glistening, 'I was feeding a small family of dogs... can't take 'em in ma home—apartment rules—stupid people can screw themselves—I'm sorry...' he apologised for his language, and I, with an reflex action chose to ignore the profanities, 'anyway... as I was feeding them, one of those little fellas decided to stretch his legs to the road and then I saw a bunch o' punks driving on the street and hittin' this poor bastard-' he teared up and his hands were balled up into fists, and his veins grew white with anger. 'I hollered at 'em and they thought they could take a good ol' fashion one-two with me—BUT I AM KNUCKLE BINE, SO I DID WHAT I DO BEST... shoved those punks some solid ONE-TWOS up their asses and... I was too late... he... he—lost too much blood already-'

'I get it... you didn't hit this guy, but you whooped the asses who did this to him. I respect that.' I said affirmatively, as I handed the dog to him, 'but that seems like a poor excuse for a Hunter, who could have prevented it all the way.'

Knuckle looked at me with surprised eyes and I returned it with a smirk.

'You thought I won't know?' I asked 'Knuckle Bine, running around in the alley, feeding dogs, ganking punks... I've met your kind.' I said, 'and I already received what you have to offer so-' I patted the dog as he stirred in my arms, 'you can drop the act and tell me why you are here... '

Knuckle shifted his gaze from my face to the floor and I felt my expression softening. He looked again at me, opened his mouth but no words came. He anxiously left his chair and with a wordless desperation he clenched his fist and then tracing a few steps came back around.

'I have received three phone calls from the Chairman, and each time I rejected. No exceptions.'

'Why?' he asked, 'why you do that? That life... a Hunter's life is a treasure. Million people can kill for em. Rollin' in bucks, adventures, not having anything to tie you up, powers and-'

'-and nothing you can call your own.' I finished the sentence for him.

'Hunters in duty are thicker than blood lady; we don't second guess our comrades.' He growled, offended by my answer. 'I understand how you feel, and I am sorry to have offended you, but now—these babies—are my life. I saw you how you treat Cheadle, and I saw myself how Ging treated me. You people only care for objects, things, artefacts, fame, money... for people; it's just Hit and Run. We are one night stand too far from family.' I almost choked up on tears, 'Knuckle-san, I am sorry, I am sorry that I ever thought that I could become a pro hunter, and I am sorry to disappoint you, but I can't return to that life.'

Knuckle did not argue with me further, he just looked at me with defeated expression, 'yer right. We hunters are crap when it comes to keep family. Blood scares the shit out of us, because it should' Knuckle cleared his eyes and looked at the dog in my arms, 'blood is a scary stuff _-chan and it pulls us like magnet and when it tears, it tears hard and things implode. Blood is, and always be a time bomb for us, and that's what scares a Hunter the most. We don't keep family for our own sake, we can't love us some family—that's selfish as shit—but it's 'cause so that nobody can hurt us no more. Hell, but it doesn't mean we don't want no family.'

I looked at him questioningly, not wanting him to interrupt.

'Chairman and everyone want you back as a Hunter, but don't you think for one time I am here for that... I am not their puppet. I gotta mind o'ma own.' He came towards me, eyes steady and clear, 'You are a good girl, _-chan, I know, and that fuckbag can shove it up his ass for not seeing that-'

'Knuckle san...'

'No—We... I need you back. Hell, that's what I always wanted...' Knuckle's voice cracked as he spoke.

I plopped on my chair, confused and befuddled, trying to decipher what he just said to me.

'Are you serious...' the reaction came out a little unexpectedly from what I imagined. Usually, girls don't expect someone like Knuckle confessing to them; in fact, appearance wise, they try to stay away from their path. But there was something so endearing about those honest, compassionate, yet rough edged eyes that made a person felt grounded, yet so...

'Positive...' Knuckle knelt in front of my chair, 'say you're coming with me...'

'Knuckle-san-' I hesitated, 'I am not sure I can answer that and I feel very sorry—wait' I grabbed his arms as he tried to leave, and with my voice, I woke the dog up, and we three were caught in a awkward mess f undealt feelings, 'don't leave...' I said apologetically, and grabbed his hands into my palms 'I have things to say to you...'

'Say it fast kiddo cause it's breakin' my heart-'

'I am still salted about everything, and I dunno how to deal with it yet.' I answered, 'but I know where to start...' I bent down and kissed his cheeks as tenderly as possible, which seemed quite a foreign act to me, but it was genuine enough to make him convince. It was endearing how he touched his own cheek where my lips touched him, and I unconsciously touched mine, feeling his rough skin with traces of aftershave, contemplating on my boldness.

'Shall we discuss this over a coffee?'


This was a hard nut to crack, Knuckle (no pun intended), but I thought to keep it more grounded. Anyhow, there are some unique interests piling up, and I will do my best to satisfy.

Inspired by: A particular episode of Supernatural, and a song called One Spring Day by 2AM

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