Mark typically felt bad leaving for work. Watching Ace eat his mac and cheese with both braces on and still the happy smile... He left with a duffle bag containing his work clohes and promising to be back soon. The drive to work was boring, he couldn't listen to the radio. Changing into his scrubs and coat felt like a torturous routine, it was so familiar and repetitive it made his skin crawl. The fabric felt stiff on his skin, like wearing paper. He kept straightening the shirt, the coat, the waist band of his black pants but got nowhere lose to an improvement. This would be one of the harder shifts to get through.<br/>Mark worked in the children's ward. He treated broken legs and colds, burns and any other thing a child might get themselves into. It helped him with the anxiety from not being able to watch ace but gave Mark a number of new worries.<br/>"You put your hand on the stove?" he asked a little girl with a red face and eyes pouring tears down her cheeks. Her blonde hair was disheveled and messy, her shirt stained from knocking over(as her mother explained) a bowl of cereal on the counter. A cheerio still hung on her yellow blouse. She wimpered as he turned her hand over. Mark paused his examination, nnoticing how her eyes were glued to the wound. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "May I?" he asked and held it up to her eyes. When she nodded Mark tied it in a blind fold. "It's been a long time since I heard a story. Do you know any good ones?" he asked and blew on the burn. He began disinfecting it, watching her squirm a little on the examination table. She nodded all the same. "Will you tell me a good story?" he asked. "the best one you've ever heard." and mark listened while the little girl retold to him a story that rambled and made little sense. He asked lots of questions about this princess and a beast that held her captive in a castle. He wasn't so sure that the girl had the details right but she did a fantastic job of telling it anyway. Before she could finish the wound was dressed and done.<br/>"you're finished!"<br/>"don't you want to know what happened?" she said before getting distracted with the bandage when the blindfold came away.<br/>Mark opened a drawer and found a bright pink band aid and laid it across the bandages for her, she smiled. "Did they live happy ever after?"<br/>"Someone already told you!" she exclaimed and mark laughed.<br/>---<br/>Mark stood staring at the sandwhich. Wait no... No, it was... No, that's a sandwich. But... Eugh the smell. And ace had ripped the blood bag. Sometimes mark wondered if ace wanted him to quit his job. Because this was the sort of thing that convinced him he should stay home. Blood everywhere and raw food out. Mark read the note and stopped. He looked at the sink of dishes and listened to the drier tumbling clothes... Ace had done all this?