Untitled

Doc using a cane because his knees are completely worn out from collapsing onto them too many times to begin CPR on a fallen soldier or because he was injured in battle.

Doc with severe hand tremors which makes him have to work extra carefully sewing up wounds.

Doc with hearing loss.

Doc with PTSD nightmares.

Doc with fragments of shrapnel still lodged in his body, a constant reminder of who he was and why he's a doctor now when he moves the wrong way during surgery.

I ended up splitting it into two (maybe 3 if I end up writing about Leg's youth👀) parts because I am being possessed by their souls to write their story.

Very grateful for the kind responses so far and I can't wait to keep writing!

Where does one soul end and the other begin? Are they even truly separate anymore? Would their loved ones be able to tell the difference?

Would Leg's platoon see his mercy and compassion for all souls as his own or do they only think him a beast with claws? Would Owen see the poison vile titled over a well and think for even a moment that it could have been Louis?

Does Legundo believe that all of his faults are his own and anything good comes from someone else? Does Louis blame himself, his centuries of bloodshed, for what Legundo did?

Would Legundo still want to sacrifice himself if he believes that someone else attached to him is good?

I love them so much. Tiny little squeak bags of awkward proportions.

Now imagine very very tiny bat Owen VERY upset about being walked around Oakhurst in Doc's pocket because Doc doesn't trust that this stupid creature with very fragile bones won't do something Dumb TM.