sharp as a blade

Peter was outside his clinic, strolling through the grocery store, his eyes scanning the chocolate bars, looking for one with the highest calorie count to satisfy his hunger. He picked what suited him, paid for it, carried the bag, and then stepped out onto the street.

He pulled a candy lollipop from his pocket, popped it into his mouth, and started walking back to the clinic. The moon was full. The streets were nearly empty—some drunks, workers returning from their jobs, homeless people seeking shelter from the cold. The atmosphere was quiet… comforting… until his spider-sense started screaming like an unmistakable alarm.

He stopped in place, slowly removed the candy from his mouth, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously Something was off. He quickly glanced around, and then he saw it—a long, dark alleyway, and inside it, a man groaning, mumbling incoherent words Peter picked up the sound thanks to his enhanced hearing.

Was he talking to someone? Or just delirious?

Peter thought for a moment. What are the chances of me getting stabbed if I try to help him?

57%… No, make it 70% since he's talking to himself.

Alright, I'll be careful No stabbings tonight, please.

Peter moved casually, kicking a pebble as he walked into the alley, approaching until he could see the man clearly. It was a miserable sight—a man wearing a torn white suit, stained with blood, his cloak ripped like abandoned fabric scraps.

Hmm… Peter tilted his head Why does this man look familiar?

His eyes were half-closed, his body swaying between consciousness and exhaustion, and his shoulder was bleeding heavily. Yet, he kept muttering… whispering incomprehensible things, as if speaking to someone unseen.

Peter exhaled in frustration Great… Not only is he injured, but he also seems insane.

He bent down slightly and waved his hand in front of the man, watching him carefully.

"Are you alright, sir?"

Moon Knight slowly lifted his head, his eyes filled with exhaustion, looking at Peter, who was kneeling beside him, scanning him with his gaze. But he didn’t answer He only whispered something else… something Peter didn’t understand.

Peter sighed. This is going to be a long night.

He leaned in slightly and snapped his fingers in the air to grab his attention. "Hey, sir, are you okay? You look like you got into a fight with a train… and lost."

The man slowly lifted his head, his eyes half-closed, as if he hadn’t heard what Peter said. Then, in a faint, weary voice, he muttered,

"Not now, Steven… I'm busy."

Peter raised an eyebrow for a second and said in confusion, "Uh… Who’s Steven?"

The man didn’t answer immediately. He only turned his head slightly as if speaking to someone invisible and said in a rough voice, "I know, I know… but he's just sitting next to me here, doesn’t seem dangerous… yet."

Peter blinked twice. Fantastic. Either he’s out of his mind or he has Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Peter spoke in a calm, genuinely concerned voice this time as he glanced at the amount of blood still pouring out. "Okay, look, I don’t know who you’re talking to, but you’re bleeding everywhere, and that’s usually not a good sign."

The man exhaled slowly and said in a rough tone, "I’m fine." Then he tried to get up, but his body betrayed him, nearly causing him to collapse.

Peter instinctively reached out, but the man sharply raised his hand. "Don’t touch me."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Alright, alright, no touching But I’m a doctor, and I’m not going to leave you bleeding here."

Moon Knight tilted his head slightly as if listening to an internal voice, then muttered, "Mark, listen, I’m 80% sure he’s not a threat… Yeah, I know that’s what I said about the guy who stabbed us last week, but…"

Peter exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great, not only are you not alone, but you’re also having an internal debate?"

Moon Knight finally lifted his eyes and stared directly at Peter, his voice sharp and threatening. "If you're going to help, do it quickly. Otherwise, leave before the one you don’t want to deal with wakes up."

Peter slowly chewed his candy and said, "Great. Because things weren’t weird enough already."

Peter cast a quick glance around the alley, then returned his gaze to the man, who was still muttering unintelligible words. Peter exhaled, then leaned forward slightly and spoke in a calm tone, as if addressing a wounded animal.

"How about you tell… Mark that I mean no harm?"

He gestured lightly with his hand. "My clinic is close by. Let me help you, then you can go on your way, and I won’t bother you again. Looks like you’ve already got a long night ahead of you."

The man didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if listening to an internal voice. Peter waited patiently.

Moon Knight finally lifted his gaze to Peter, his eyes exhausted behind his mask. But he didn’t move for a moment. He seemed to be assessing Peter’s sincerity—or perhaps having an internal discussion with that "Mark" Peter couldn’t see.

Then, in a low, sharp voice, he finally answered,

"Don’t touch me… and I’ll think about it."

Peter nodded in agreement, raising his hands in a small gesture of surrender. "Alright, no touching, got it."

Then he stood up and turned slowly, beginning to move out of the alley But he kept his eyes alert, watching the blood-covered man from the corner of his vision to make sure he was following.

He continued walking with calm steps, ensuring that the man in the white cloak was moving behind him. He wasn’t sure if this was a wise decision, but at least he wasn’t going to ignore a bleeding man in a dark alley.

Moon Knight kept watching Peter as he walked ahead, stepping cautiously, while his thoughts tangled with one another. The words whispered inside his head grew louder, like clashes between his multiple personalities

He was fully aware that this doctor couldn’t possibly be a threat, yet fear still gripped him. The pain in his shoulder was increasing, but he didn’t want to show weakness.

Moon Knight’s white eyes focused on the man walking in front of him. He was a strange-looking guy—brown hair slicked back, glasses, a beard that didn’t quite suit his face, and eyes that were far too calm despite the situation Moon Knight was in. His upright posture, silent footsteps, and white coat… carrying a bag filled with chocolate bars and candy…?

The situation felt even more bizarre.

Still, he reminded himself that maybe Steven and Mark were right. No one approaches him unless there’s a reason. Yet, at the same time, a part of him doubted his own suspicions.

He took a deep breath, feeling something inside his mind detach slightly from the internal noise. "Maybe I can trust this doctor. Maybe." He whispered to himself, though he wasn’t convinced yet.

Should he keep following him? He questioned himself as he continued to trail Peter, who didn’t seem to sense any real threat. Mark, don’t remind me about what happened last week. This guy is not the same person.

That thought echoed in his mind, like a conversation he couldn’t escape.

As he walked behind Peter, his body was slowly failing him The wounds on his shoulder and side weighed down his steps. But he didn’t care. There was a bigger battle happening inside his head—a battle with himself.

"I just need some time. Then I’ll decide whether to trust him or not." Moon Knight whispered to himself, still following.

Peter tossed away his lollipop stick, his face unreadable. His enhanced hearing had picked up every single word Moon Knight had whispered to himself, which made it slightly awkward. Well, at least I’m sure he’s not going to stab me.

As Moon Knight walked behind Peter, a wave of weakness crept over him. The pain in his shoulder sharpened, and his vision blurred. A sudden dizziness hit him like a storm, and without warning, he collapsed.

Peter, who was walking ahead, stopped immediately and turned around, noticing the change at once. There was no time to think. He dropped the grocery bag onto the ground and rushed toward Moon Knight just as he was about to fall.

With unwavering hands, he grabbed hold of him before he could hit the ground. He quickly secured his grip, despite the blood soaking through his clothes. His hands were covered in blood, but that didn’t stop him. Clicking his tongue in frustration, he shot out his webs—for the first time in an open and exposed area—grabbing the fallen grocery bag. He clenched the bag between his teeth.

"Damn it," Peter muttered to himself as he lifted Moon Knight onto his shoulder with all his strength. He sprinted toward the clinic at full speed, carefully ensuring that the man remained as conscious as possible while he cut through the street.

Peter burst into the clinic, pushing the door open with his foot while carefully carrying Moon Knight in his arms, making sure not to aggravate his injuries further. There was no time to hesitate—blood was pouring from his shoulder, and even in his unconscious state, the pain was increasing.

In a swift motion, Peter gently placed him onto the treatment bed, ensuring he didn’t worsen his condition. He set the grocery bag aside, tossing it onto the nearby table before immediately preparing his medical equipment. His hands moved quickly yet confidently. He had seen plenty of severe injuries in his work, but this wasn’t the time to hesitate.

He grabbed bandages and antiseptics from the medical cabinets, carefully examining the wound on Moon Knight’s shoulder and the gash on his side. The injuries were deep and inflamed, the bleeding relentless. His condition was worse than Peter initially expected, but he remained calm as he gathered his tools.

Pulling up a chair, he peeled away the layers of cloth that seemed like… bandages? Alright, this guy looks like a mummy if I’m being honest.

Peter held up the antiseptic. "This is going to hurt, but you’ll live," he said calmly as he began cleaning the wound with precision, making sure not to leave any contamination that could lead to complications.

His eyes were locked onto the injury, his hands working swiftly to dress it, minimizing the bleeding as much as possible. He didn’t need to say much in this moment—just focus and treat the man in front of him.

For a moment, the world around him seemed to pause. There was no noise, only the deep, strained breathing of Moon Knight as Peter worked to stop the bleeding. He knew every second mattered, so he kept moving.

"You’re lucky. Looks like the wound didn’t hit anything vital," Peter said, carefully assessing the injury before he began stitching it up. As he pulled the thread through gently, Moon Knight suddenly jolted awake from his unconscious state.

Peter frowned in frustration. "Relax, you—"

Before he could finish his sentence, everything changed in an instant.

Peter’s tools slipped from his hands, and the chair beneath him crashed to the ground. In a shocking moment, Peter found himself lifted effortlessly, a white-gloved hand crushing his throat. He barely had time to react before realizing—Moon Knight had grabbed him with an iron grip, as if Peter weighed nothing, despite his injuries.

Peter gritted his teeth, struggling against the hold. He quickly scanned Moon Knight, whose reopened wounds were now bleeding again. He was trembling violently, swaying on his feet—completely unaware of his surroundings, thinking he was in a fight… while Peter was gasping for air from the sudden chokehold.

Staying calm, Peter gripped Moon Knight’s wrist with both hands, trying to ease his hold. In a raspy voice, he spoke, "Sir… you’re injured—you’re in my clinic, you’re hallucinating."

Moon Knight didn’t respond.

Peter was panting slightly from the pressure, but he tried to speak more calmly, "Put me down. I'm here to help you—listen to me."

Moon Knight kept mumbling something incomprehensible as he tightened his grip around Peter's neck. While trying to avoid further pain, Peter raised his voice, making one last attempt, "Mark, calm down! I'm trying to help your friend here. Can you cooperate with me?"

Moon Knight froze, staring at Peter in silence, hesitant.

If this doesn't work… I'll have to fight him.

And that's the last thing I want.

Suddenly, the pressure on his neck eased, and he was released. Peter exhaled quietly, trying to take a deep breath while rubbing his neck gently.

This is definitely going to leave a mark. Great.

He spoke in a relieved tone, "Thank you." Then, looking at Moon Knight with calm eyes, he added, "Alright… Can you please sit on the bed? I'll treat your friend's wounds, and then you can go on your way. I won’t interfere again."

For his own comfort, Moon Knight remained silent, took a deep breath, and then nodded slightly with difficulty. He sat on the bed, leaning back, while Peter observed him with a contemplative and complex look. The wounds on his side and shoulder were still bleeding, but the situation was gradually calming down.

Peter took a moment to ensure that Moon Knight was relatively stable. The wound on his side and shoulder was still bleeding profusely, and due to his panic, the injuries had worsened.

"Alright, let me treat you quickly before things get worse," Peter said as he quietly approached to examine the injury. He carefully removed the remaining torn fabric around the wound, revealing the extent of the damage. The wounds were deep, and blood stains were spread across his body.

Peter meticulously cleaned the wound again using an antiseptic, remaining silent. He wasn’t going to risk talking to a man with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Moon Knight stayed quiet, his gaze unfocused, but he seemed as if his inner voice was calming him down a little.

Peter finished disinfecting the wound and then focused on stitching it up again, keeping his eyes on the injury. After finishing, he wrapped the wound carefully, closely monitoring Moon Knight’s condition to ensure he was stable.

The man seemed to be doing fine… Well, Peter couldn't really tell; the mask hid his face, and he was mumbling deliriously. However, the lack of trembling and the relaxation of his muscles indicated that he was okay for now.

Moon Knight's inner voice continued to murmur, as if engaged in a conversation with his multiple personalities. Peter knew that this type of disorder could potentially hinder the healing process, but he decided not to push him further.

I'm a doctor, but not a psychiatrist, so…

Peter shrugged, then started rearranging the medical tools around him. He got up from the chair to clean up the mess that had occurred.

Once he finished organizing his medical tools carefully, he removed his white coat and placed it in the washing machine located on the clinic’s lower floor. Then, he put on a spare coat he had prepared in the clinic, feeling a slight sense of relief after everything that had happened.

Despite that, his mind was still occupied with Moon Knight's condition. He wanted to make sure he was truly stable before leaving him alone.

Peter moved, observing Moon Knight with interest. His chest was rising and falling slowly.

A sigh of relief escaped Peter. At least this meant he was still alive.

He took a quick look at the treated wound, which had begun to heal well, then returned to his desk. He turned to his laptop on the table and slowly opened it, attempting to focus on the paperwork that needed to be organized. But he couldn’t shake his thoughts about the man lying in one of the clinic’s beds.

Peter rubbed his neck gently, expressionless, noting that it was red from Moon Knight’s grip. He needed to wear a high-collared shirt to hide the bruise. He knew Johnny would come later and might notice his neck, possibly bothering him about what had happened.

He opened some files on his laptop and began reading the medical notes waiting for him on his desk. As the night passed quickly, his thoughts remained on Moon Knight and how he would get out of this strange state he was in.

Even though Peter had done his best to treat him, his confusion only grew. This type of case wasn’t unfamiliar to Peter, but he couldn’t ignore the bizarre contradiction of personalities.

He had never encountered a man with Dissociative Identity Disorder before.

Is this what it’s like when you meet someone with it?

There are several reasons why Dissociative Identity Disorder develops—childhood trauma, war, exposure to violence and abuse—or…

Peter placed a hand on his chin and thought.

Hmm… Can someone gain superpowers and develop Dissociative Identity Disorder?

Peter tried to push aside the unsettling thoughts and distract himself with paperwork and files.

But deep down, he wouldn’t lie—he was curious.

Curiosity kills the cat.

Peter shook his head tiredly and muttered, "I'll think about it when he wakes up."