Home Sweet Home was quiet, the usual echo of its mechanical halls dampened by the exhaustion weighing on both you and Dogday. The air smelled faintly of oil and blood. Dogday was right behind you, you had only recently managed to patch him up, the seams still taut and fragile, yet he insisted on walking with you.

You sighed, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. Cleaning was proving more difficult than you had thought. Dust, broken scraps, and loose wires littered the ground, and your body felt heavy from fatigue. Still, you didn't want to leave the place in disarray... it was supposed to be a safe place.

Nor did you want Dogday ripping his freshly done stitches; lost in thought, you had failed to realize someone creeping up behind you. Then a familiar hand rested gently on your shoulder. Startled, you turned around quickly just to find Dogday. His half-lidded eyes softened at the sight of your tired yet startled expression.

"Don't worry, Angel," Dogday said, his voice deep but reassuring. "I'm not as weak as how you think I am." It was like he read your thoughts... you were concerned about him after all.

You calmed down a bit before looking up at him concerned. "Ah... um..." Glancing back at the mess on the ground you then glanced back towards him. "But... your legs haven't fully recovered—"

Dogday then cut you off. "Such danger is coming near," he murmured, eyes flicking to the shifting shadows around them, "and you still care about me?" The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard... then Dogday's hand brushed against your cheek, gently pinching it playfully. "Angel, you're so endearing." He teased playfully.