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"Who are you?"

Manticore frowned as the doctor closed the door behind himself.

They gave him a warm smile, but he didn't return it.

"My name is Dr. Simpson. Treasure has told me all about you." He patted the table, trying another smile.

But Manticore didn't move.

"Why are you here instead of her?" He asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. He already didn't like these visits as is. But now he had to deal with a new doctor? Who probably didn't know what he didn't like like Treasure?

The doctor set down his clipboard and knelt down. "Treasure was accidentally booked full today. So they asked me to check in on you today." He gave another smile, noticing the kits hesitation. "I know you probably don't like change, so I'll do my best to treat you just like she does. Ok?"

Manticore lowered his ears.

He was already having a bad morning, so guess it was fitting his visit would also go badly.

But the doctor was still looking at him, expecting an answer.

Manticore grunted, pulling at his sleeve. Better to juts get this over with as quickly as possible.

Simpson, clearly expecting a verbal answer, held out his hand as the kit laid the sweatshirt into it. "Thank you. I promise i'll be quick." He said cheerfully, then laid his sweatshirt on the counter.

Manticore frowned. It was supposed to go on the hanger, where he could still reach it. Didn't Treasure tell this doctor that?

Simpson then walked over and patted the table. "Alright, up we go."

Manticore sighed. Guess it wasn't worth talking about. Fine, he would deal with it this time.

He walked over to the table and lifted his hands to climb up. Only to let out a startled squeak when Simpson's hands slid under his arms and lifted him onto the table.

He could get up on his own!

"Alright~" The doctor said, leaning over to grab his clipboard like nothing was wrong. "Lets get started... Heart-rate first." He quickly slid the stethoscope around his neck into position, before breathing on the smooth silver piece.

Manticore gave a look of confusion.

"Just warming it up a little." Simpson said happily. "I know some kits don't like the cold metal on their chest."

Manticore watched him silently. Treasure didn't do that. She didn't baby him.

And, the piece was warm, but also slightly damp from the fog.

And that felt a little gross on his chest fluff.

He quickly rubbed the fluff when Simpson turned to fill out the chart, grunting slightly.

"Ok, now blood pressure." He retrieved the cuff and held it before Manticore. "Are you ok with this?"

He wasn't a mewling newborn...

"Yes." He said, holding out his non -----d arm.

"Alright, thank you~" The doctor smiled and slipped the cuff on.

The majority of the visit seemed to grate on Manticore's nerves, even more than usual. He felt himself getting frustrated by the tiniest thing this new doctor did, or didn't do. He didn't like being here. He didn't like being fussed over, or treated like a baby.

And worst of all, he knew what was coming.

The part he hated most.

"Alright," Dr Simpson jotted down the last measurement onto his notepad. "Everything is looking good on your end. Now, Treasure wanted me to check on your-"

"NO!"

The doctor blinked and jerked back from the sudden outburst.

Manticore glared at the floor, flexing his hands at his sides. "Don't say the word." He ordered angrily. "I don't want you saying it."

"O-ok." Simpson held his hands up in surrender. "I wont say it. I just want to look, ok?"

Manticore's glare didn't go away. "I don't want you to."

The doctor hesitated. "Ok..." He sounded slightly confused. "Can you tell me why?"

"Because I don't want you to." Manticore repeated.

"Ok...Because you want Treasure to look at them instead?" He offered gently.

"No. I don't want her either."

"Oh." Dr Simpson stood up and held a hand to his mouth, trying to figure out what the next step would be. He staid quiet for a few moments, watching the kit carefully. Then, he spoke with a softer voice. "What part do you not like?" He decided to try. "Looking? Talking? Touching?"

"Touching." Manticore said curtly. "I don't want you touching them."

"Ok." He nodded, kneeling down to better look at the kit. "What if I promise not to touch them? Would that help?" He offered gently.

Manticore stared at his shirt, arms pressed to his side. He wanted to say no. But he also knew if he did, they would juts bring up that he couldn't leave until they checked on them. This really felt like a no way out situation.

"Fine." He muttered.

"Thank you." Simpson smiled again, showing his hands. "May I touch your bicep so I can rotate your arm? Would that be ok?"

Again, Manticore wanted to say no.

But he also wanted to just be done and leave.

"Fine." "He muttered, offering his arm. "But don't get close."

"I wont get close." He repeated, gently holding the kits arm in one hand. He took great care to keep his touch light, barley even applying any pressure to rotate and move the arm.

But it still irritated Manticore.

He didn't like being handled like this.

"May I move your hair to look at your eye?" He asked now, still holding his other hand where Manticore could see it.

Manticore narrowed his eyes. He wanted this to be over.

"Please?" The doctor asked again, still gentle.

"Yes." Manticore responded, a little less gently. Why couldn't he just get this over with already??

"Thank you." Dr Simpson nodded, gently brushing the hair away. His thumb rested on Manticore's temple, moving the skin and pulling just slightly. "Looks a bit rough." He said quietly. "Skin is a little inflamed. It almost...." He hesitated, tilting his head. "Were these recently re opened-"

Manticore bared his teeth and violently flinched away from the touch. "Stop it!" He demanded angrily, ripping his arm from the others grasp.

And in doing so, felt a small stinging sensation on his bicep.

The doctor, clearly not expecting such a sudden reaction, gasped and quickly took his hands away. "I'm sorry!" He said quickly, offering his hands again. "Did I get your arm?"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Manticore suddenly shouted, his fur puffed up.

"I DON'T WANT YOU TOUCHING ME ANYMORE!"

"Ok!" The doctor quickly took a step back. "Ok, i'm sorry. I wont. I'm done."

But Manticore was furious.

All the anger from these visits, mixing with his bad morning, little sleep, and fear all had broke open his floodgates. And now there was no stopping any of it.

"YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TOUCH IT!" He yelled.

"I didn't mean to!" Dr Simpson quickly explained, trying to defuse the situation. "It just looked like they've been re ope-"

"STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!!"

The doctor winced, holding up his hands. "I know you're upset," He said, trying to sound gentle and calm. "I'm sorry."

"NO!" Manticore yelled back, face growing red. "I HATE IT HERE! I HATE COMING HERE! I HATE YOU ALL TREATING ME LIKE THIS!"

"Manticore please," He pleaded. "Please stop shouting."

Manticore glared at him. "NO!" He shouted again. "YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT MY FEELINGS!"

"Manticore-"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOURS THEN!"

"Manti-"

"JUST LET ME GO!"

"Stop shouting!" Dr Simpson said, firmer now, trying to regain control. "I know your upset-"

CRASH

He then leapt back in alarm. He had tried to approach the kit, but Manticore had grabbed a glass jar full of cotton balls and thrown it to the floor in front of him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" The kit demanded, tears collecting in the corner of his eyes.

Stunned, the doctor stared at the kit a moment, then quickly fumbled for the intercom next to the door. "Nurse Bahlentine please report to room 124!"

Manticore panted angrily. "NO! NO MORE DOCTORS!"

The doctor tried to get a word in, but Manticore had devolved into incoherent screaming and growling. Each attempt to get closer, or try to calm the kit just resulted in more yelling and threats to throw more objects to the floor. Even when the nurse arrived, they could not get a word in for several moments.

Eventually, either from fatigue or his voice giving out, Manticore fell into angry breathing. His face was still set and cold, tears and spittle dripping down his chin.

All three folks were quiet for a moment, waiting to see if the other would react.

Nurse Bahlentine was the first to speak.

"Would you l-like some water?" He asked timidly.

Manticore sniffled, keeping firm.

He tried again. "M-maybe a sucker to help you t-th-throat?"

Manticore panted a few more times, then squeaked out "I want to leave."

The nurse hummed, then nodded. "Ok. We'll call Nana to come get you. B-but for the time b-being, why not come to another r-room?"

Manticore started to bristle again, but the doctor held up his hands. "We just don't want to leave you alone in a room with broken glass." He clarified. "No one will touch you. No one will bother you."

He seemed to calm slightly.

"All we want is to have you wait in another room, alone, while we wait for Nana to come get you, ok?" He offered softly.

Manticore hesitated a long moment, then slowly stepped forward. The folks gently stepped aside so he could pass, leading him with distance so no accidental touching occurred.

He was tired now. And his throat hurt.

All he wanted to do was go home.

And never come back here....

Word count: 1,618

Ty @/RandomComicSheet for letting me steal your lamby boyoy

And thx @/misluc for the face

+Niblers

www.deviantart.com/imp-gal-dra…

Acorn counter

8/1563

Description

"Who are you?"

Manticore frowned as the doctor closed the door behind himself.

They gave him a warm smile, but he didn't return it.

"My name is Dr. Simpson. Treasure has told me all about you." He patted the table, trying another smile.

But Manticore didn't move.

"Why are you here instead of her?" He asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. He already didn't like these visits as is. But now he had to deal with a new doctor? Who probably didn't know what he didn't like like Treasure?

The doctor set down his clipboard and knelt down. "Treasure was accidentally booked full today. So they asked me to check in on you today." He gave another smile, noticing the kits hesitation. "I know you probably don't like change, so I'll do my best to treat you just like she does. Ok?"

Manticore lowered his ears.

He was already having a bad morning, so guess it was fitting his visit would also go badly.

But the doctor was still looking at him, expecting an answer.

Manticore grunted, pulling at his sleeve. Better to juts get this over with as quickly as possible.

Simpson, clearly expecting a verbal answer, held out his hand as the kit laid the sweatshirt into it. "Thank you. I promise i'll be quick." He said cheerfully, then laid his sweatshirt on the counter.

Manticore frowned. It was supposed to go on the hanger, where he could still reach it. Didn't Treasure tell this doctor that?

Simpson then walked over and patted the table. "Alright, up we go."

Manticore sighed. Guess it wasn't worth talking about. Fine, he would deal with it this time.

He walked over to the table and lifted his hands to climb up. Only to let out a startled squeak when Simpson's hands slid under his arms and lifted him onto the table.

He could get up on his own!

"Alright~" The doctor said, leaning over to grab his clipboard like nothing was wrong. "Lets get started... Heart-rate first." He quickly slid the stethoscope around his neck into position, before breathing on the smooth silver piece.

Manticore gave a look of confusion.

"Just warming it up a little." Simpson said happily. "I know some kits don't like the cold metal on their chest."

Manticore watched him silently. Treasure didn't do that. She didn't baby him.

And, the piece was warm, but also slightly damp from the fog.

And that felt a little gross on his chest fluff.

He quickly rubbed the fluff when Simpson turned to fill out the chart, grunting slightly.

"Ok, now blood pressure." He retrieved the cuff and held it before Manticore. "Are you ok with this?"

He wasn't a mewling newborn...

"Yes." He said, holding out his non -----d arm.

"Alright, thank you~" The doctor smiled and slipped the cuff on.

The majority of the visit seemed to grate on Manticore's nerves, even more than usual. He felt himself getting frustrated by the tiniest thing this new doctor did, or didn't do. He didn't like being here. He didn't like being fussed over, or treated like a baby.

And worst of all, he knew what was coming.

The part he hated most.

"Alright," Dr Simpson jotted down the last measurement onto his notepad. "Everything is looking good on your end. Now, Treasure wanted me to check on your-"

"NO!"

The doctor blinked and jerked back from the sudden outburst.

Manticore glared at the floor, flexing his hands at his sides. "Don't say the word." He ordered angrily. "I don't want you saying it."

"O-ok." Simpson held his hands up in surrender. "I wont say it. I just want to look, ok?"

Manticore's glare didn't go away. "I don't want you to."

The doctor hesitated. "Ok..." He sounded slightly confused. "Can you tell me why?"

"Because I don't want you to." Manticore repeated.

"Ok...Because you want Treasure to look at them instead?" He offered gently.

"No. I don't want her either."

"Oh." Dr Simpson stood up and held a hand to his mouth, trying to figure out what the next step would be. He staid quiet for a few moments, watching the kit carefully. Then, he spoke with a softer voice. "What part do you not like?" He decided to try. "Looking? Talking? Touching?"

"Touching." Manticore said curtly. "I don't want you touching them."

"Ok." He nodded, kneeling down to better look at the kit. "What if I promise not to touch them? Would that help?" He offered gently.

Manticore stared at his shirt, arms pressed to his side. He wanted to say no. But he also knew if he did, they would juts bring up that he couldn't leave until they checked on them. This really felt like a no way out situation.

"Fine." He muttered.

"Thank you." Simpson smiled again, showing his hands. "May I touch your bicep so I can rotate your arm? Would that be ok?"

Again, Manticore wanted to say no.

But he also wanted to just be done and leave.

"Fine." "He muttered, offering his arm. "But don't get close."

"I wont get close." He repeated, gently holding the kits arm in one hand. He took great care to keep his touch light, barley even applying any pressure to rotate and move the arm.

But it still irritated Manticore.

He didn't like being handled like this.

"May I move your hair to look at your eye?" He asked now, still holding his other hand where Manticore could see it.

Manticore narrowed his eyes. He wanted this to be over.

"Please?" The doctor asked again, still gentle.

"Yes." Manticore responded, a little less gently. Why couldn't he just get this over with already??

"Thank you." Dr Simpson nodded, gently brushing the hair away. His thumb rested on Manticore's temple, moving the skin and pulling just slightly. "Looks a bit rough." He said quietly. "Skin is a little inflamed. It almost...." He hesitated, tilting his head. "Were these recently re opened-"

Manticore bared his teeth and violently flinched away from the touch. "Stop it!" He demanded angrily, ripping his arm from the others grasp.

And in doing so, felt a small stinging sensation on his bicep.

The doctor, clearly not expecting such a sudden reaction, gasped and quickly took his hands away. "I'm sorry!" He said quickly, offering his hands again. "Did I get your arm?"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Manticore suddenly shouted, his fur puffed up.

"I DON'T WANT YOU TOUCHING ME ANYMORE!"

"Ok!" The doctor quickly took a step back. "Ok, i'm sorry. I wont. I'm done."

But Manticore was furious.

All the anger from these visits, mixing with his bad morning, little sleep, and fear all had broke open his floodgates. And now there was no stopping any of it.

"YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TOUCH IT!" He yelled.

"I didn't mean to!" Dr Simpson quickly explained, trying to defuse the situation. "It just looked like they've been re ope-"

"STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!!"

The doctor winced, holding up his hands. "I know you're upset," He said, trying to sound gentle and calm. "I'm sorry."

"NO!" Manticore yelled back, face growing red. "I HATE IT HERE! I HATE COMING HERE! I HATE YOU ALL TREATING ME LIKE THIS!"

"Manticore please," He pleaded. "Please stop shouting."

Manticore glared at him. "NO!" He shouted again. "YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT MY FEELINGS!"

"Manticore-"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOURS THEN!"

"Manti-"

"JUST LET ME GO!"

"Stop shouting!" Dr Simpson said, firmer now, trying to regain control. "I know your upset-"

CRASH

He then leapt back in alarm. He had tried to approach the kit, but Manticore had grabbed a glass jar full of cotton balls and thrown it to the floor in front of him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" The kit demanded, tears collecting in the corner of his eyes.

Stunned, the doctor stared at the kit a moment, then quickly fumbled for the intercom next to the door. "Nurse Bahlentine please report to room 124!"

Manticore panted angrily. "NO! NO MORE DOCTORS!"

The doctor tried to get a word in, but Manticore had devolved into incoherent screaming and growling. Each attempt to get closer, or try to calm the kit just resulted in more yelling and threats to throw more objects to the floor. Even when the nurse arrived, they could not get a word in for several moments.

Eventually, either from fatigue or his voice giving out, Manticore fell into angry breathing. His face was still set and cold, tears and spittle dripping down his chin.

All three folks were quiet for a moment, waiting to see if the other would react.

Nurse Bahlentine was the first to speak.

"Would you l-like some water?" He asked timidly.

Manticore sniffled, keeping firm.

He tried again. "M-maybe a sucker to help you t-th-throat?"

Manticore panted a few more times, then squeaked out "I want to leave."

The nurse hummed, then nodded. "Ok. We'll call Nana to come get you. B-but for the time b-being, why not come to another r-room?"

Manticore started to bristle again, but the doctor held up his hands. "We just don't want to leave you alone in a room with broken glass." He clarified. "No one will touch you. No one will bother you."

He seemed to calm slightly.

"All we want is to have you wait in another room, alone, while we wait for Nana to come get you, ok?" He offered softly.

Manticore hesitated a long moment, then slowly stepped forward. The folks gently stepped aside so he could pass, leading him with distance so no accidental touching occurred.

He was tired now. And his throat hurt.

All he wanted to do was go home.

And never come back here....

Word count: 1,618

Ty @/RandomComicSheet for letting me steal your lamby boyoy

And thx @/misluc for the face

+Niblers

www.deviantart.com/imp-gal-dra…

Acorn counter

8/1563