allee-e-writing-blog

[allee-e-writing-blog]

Flannel... Does this mean I’m a Winchester now??? AM I THE DESTIEL LOVE CHILD?!?!?!

Find your REAL Angel name

• First two letters of your last name • First vowel of your first name • Third letter of your middle name (or parent’s first name if you don’t have a middle name • Last consonant of your last name • Add IEL or EL to the end!

[allee-e-writing-blog]

I’ve had no inspiration to write anything in way too long, I need inspiration but I have nothing. I’m in a perpetual state of writer’s block and don’t know how to feel about this. If anyone has any ideas or wants something for a certain character/ship, let me know and I’ll try my hardest to do it

[allee-e-writing-blog]

Reasons why I have a love-hate relationship with writing #192

After my Wanda and Vision fic with the freezer, all the adds I’ve been getting on YouTube relates to walk-in freezers. Someone help me.

[allee-e-writing-blog]

First I Love You/Kiss - Frosthawk

Whether Clint followed the orders to a T or not, his actions made the mission a success with no injuries to anyone but himself. The last of the civilians were checked over as he restrung his bow, waiting for the innocents to go before he would get checked over by Bruce.

“And what was that you pulled!?” Tony asked and Clint sighed. It would be fate that he broke away from the plan when it was Tony who was leading. Ever since the whole “Civil War" incident, the two had been on choppy waters that seemed to hit hurricane levels at this point. 

“Hey, the people ran out cause they thought they had an opening.” He argued, slipping his bow over his chest with a slight twinge of pain. “I took mine when they took theirs. It may not have been your master plan, but no one else got hurt and Zemo’s down.” He sent the pissed man a slight smile. “I count it as a victory.”

“Victory my ass; I had that plan set for a reason Clint!” Tony scolded, his visor down so it was his voice instead of the slightly robotic one the suit produced. “I know you don't like listening to me, but my plans are what we need to do so we don't get in trouble again!” 

Tony stood in his face now, close enough to spit on him at this point. “Did your government-approved plan include those civilians running or were you just going to let them die Stark?” Clint challenged and Tony clenched a fist. “Plans are great and yours would have worked, but the civilians matter to me more than if the government likes the way I shoot or not.”

“Change of plans,” Tony looked over to where Rhodey and a few other agents stood, pointing at them. “Clint's helping with cleanup today, you can come back with us.”

“Tony, I got injured; I still need medical to look at me!” Clint tried to argue. During the process of saving the civilians, he took a blast of an unknown energy and he had been waiting for the group he protected to get checked out first.

“Nice excuse Barton, try it on someone who'll actually buy it.” Tony hit his arm a few times before his mask went down to cover his smirking face. “Let's move out.” The others picked fun at his expense, Clint sighing as he looked around. He was left with a truck, Zemo and his three henchmen, as well as the destruction the villain made of the country farm. He started to collect up the ruined crop, totalling in his head how much the farmer would have to be repaid, moving slower than he would have liked. This was going to take forever. ******************************************************************************************* Loki walked through the tower with a frown, looking for Clint. The others had just returned from their mission in Richmond, Kentucky and he hadn't been with them. He had planned to surprise the archer after being away for a little while with Thor, but now he was just left bewildered.

“Where's Barton?” Loki asked Tony when he passed, the millionaire rolling his eyes.

“He didn't follow the plan, risked our jobs as heroes. So, we left him to clean up and drive the truck back.” Tony said and Loki frowned more. 

“Have any of you made contact with him?” Tony snapped at him.

“No; no one's tried. You can if you want, but he's being punished for a reason!” Tony walked away, irrational and angry for a reason Loki couldn't pinpoint. 

“Not everyone fits in your mold Stark.” He muttered before putting a hand to his com. “Clint? Update?” He waited a few minutes, getting nothing but silence. Thinking he may be in the middle of something, he waited for five minutes more before trying again. “Clint, can you hear me?” At the next bout of silence, his frown worsened and he started to mumble his teleportation spell to check on the man in person.

*******************************************************************************************Clean up with Clint had been going well. Had been. He rubbed at his eyes, using a bit more pressure than he would have liked, but the dizziness that was making his eyesight blur seemed to subside after the action, so he didn't mind repeating it again. His wound seemed to be internal, but the medics on scene left when the others did. Calling emergency services would not only blow his secret identity if he needed to go to hospital, but it could also bring the attention of the news if word of him getting injured got out.

He had just finished with the invoices and clean up, the pain he felt flaring up worse after it all. He was just glad that he had gotten Zemo and his lackeys into the arms of the prison guards before the pain hit him like this. Clint leaned against the truck, panting a bit. Breathing was getting harder and harder with each passing second and he needed to contact the others even if they didn't want to talk to him right now. 

He moved his hand towards his ear and that seemed to be the last straw for his body. Clint completely froze, his knees losing the ability to hold anything as he started to topple to the ground. He let out a strangled groan as he fell, his head hitting the ground.

But Clint? 

Clint was out cold before he hit the ground. ******************************************************************************************* Loki appeared, facing a slightly destroyed crop, evidence that this was where the team had been. He turned, spotting the truck a bit further ahead of him. His stomach teleported back to the tower when he saw Clint on the side of the road, his legs moving towards the archer before the rest of his body could process it. He may have even called his name, but he couldn't recall opening his mouth; but he swore someone called out to Clint.

He flipped the archer over in a rush, a tiny bit of dried blood left at Clint's hairline. “Clint?” He gently tapped at his face. “Clint!” His eyes were hazy when he opened them, but Loki could have cried when he saw them. 

“L-Lo-ack!” He curled in a bit on himself when he tried to say his name, Loki shushing him as he helped him lay flat again against the ground.

“Easy Engel, keep your eyes open, not your mouth.” Loki said and Clint coughed out a laugh, his body shivering at the action. Loki placed a hand on his forehead. “You're burning up.” He went to remove his hand, but Clint whimpered when he tried. “Does that feel good?” Clint said yes with his eyes - despite how they could barely stay open. “Alright Engel, I just need you to stay awake with me until Dr. Banner can help.” Keeping his hand on his forehead, Loki mumbled his spell once more, the two appearing in the tower.

Time had passed since they transported, Loki not being at full power with the spell he was still practicing affecting how long it took to get to his set location. The house was quiet, the lights turning on when he and Clint appeared. “Friday, where is everyone?” 

“They went to go celebrate the mission being a success.” She informed him and he nodded, looking down to Clint. 

“Get me in contact with Dr. Banner please.” He scooped up Clint, the archer whimpering at the loss of his hand. Loki adjusted his head so that it was in the crook of his neck, Clint relaxing at the chill. “And hurry.” 

Loki moved to the infirmary quickly, the sound of a dial tone following him. “He's not picking up.” She informed him, the god laying out the archer. 

“Of course, the time Jo’s team is on a different solar system.” He sighed, squeezing Clint's hand gently. “Friday, run me a scan on Clint and keep calling Dr. Banner and the others every five minutes until they pick up.” ******************************************************************************************* Loki applied another cold rag to Clint's forehead, deciding to worry about covering the head wound with a wrap later. With how high Clint’s temperature was getting, he didn't want to worry about that right now. It had been nearly an hour and a half of calling the others, but he still had no luck. “Try Steve again.” Loki said to Friday, the AI doing as said. 

“Hello?” He picked up on the third ring and Loki let his head fall back, eyes closing.

“Thank the stars someone answered.” He looked back down to Clint. “I need help here at the tower; Clint was injured by something on their last mission and no one has responded to me for over an hour.” He could hear shuffling on the other side of the line. “He's only been getting worse and I don't know what else to do.”

“Bucky and I are coming; what's going on at this point?” Steve asked as Loki took off the now warm rag.

“His temperature is tipping towards 110 and nothing I'm doing is bringing it back down.” Loki started, submerging the rag as he grabbed another one. “He easily heats up the ice cold rags I'm putting on him and Friday said he had internal injuries and a possible concussion. He passed out a while ago and he hasn't woken up yet - I'm frankly terrified.” Loki rambled a bit, but Steve understood why.

“We're about five minutes out.” Loki could hear the sound if footsteps and heavy wind, the man unable to help the soft smile that crossed his face. They were running to get there instead of spending time to get a taxi or get to Steve's bike. 

“Stay on the line until you arrive?” Loki asked, changing rags again. “You're the only one who replied and I think I might go insane if I have to sit here in silence while I wait.” He tacked on the reason quickly, his words honest. 

“We're right here Loki, we won't leave ya.” The phone changer owners, Bucky now speaking to the god. Look could faintly hear Steve talking to someone else. “And I think Steve may have been able to contact T’Challa.” He informed him and Loki nodded, squeezing Clint's hand. 

“Good; we may need all the help we can get.” 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Friday cut in, “But Clint’s temperature has now hit 111.” Loki muttered a curse before thanking the AI for the update, changing the rag a bit faster than normal. 

“Nothing's working at all?” Bucky asked, trying to fill the empty space the update caused. 

“Not a thing.” He rested another hand on his cheek, the flesh burning from the inside out. “I even tried a few ice baths, but nothing's happened. I've even changed to my Jotunn form and tried to cool him down that way; doesn't even change it a portion of a degree.” Loki ran a hand through his hair. “And no one has put out any reports about what Zemo had been doing or what tools he used that could cause something like this nor have I been able to contact us team.”

“Who was on it? Do you know?” Friday answered for him. “Iron Man, War Machine, Spiderman, Hawkeye and The Incredible Hulk.” Loki looked down to Clint.

“Why would Dr. Banner not look him over if he was injured?” Loki asked, talking more to himself than anyone else. 

“Steve and I are heading up the elevator now, we'll be right there.” Bucky said and he nodded, just realizing he had been changing the rag without thinking about it.

“Alright. I'm going to have Friday try the others again. What happened with the thing with T’Challa?” Loki asked as Friday attempted to call one of the team members. 

“It'll take him about ten minutes before he can get here.” Bucky's voice cut between the phone and the hall, the two making their way to the door. “Jesus.” He said softly, looking over Clint.

“I know.” Loki said, changing rags. “White paper has more color than he does right now.” Clint was beyond pale, the only hinting of color in the sweat he was drenched in. “No one else is picking up and I don't know how much longer he-”

“What do you want? We're trying to celebrate over here.” Tony's voice filled the air and Loki glared at it. 

“Tell Banner we need him here. Clint's dying right before our eyes and we can't stop it.” He clenched his fist when Tony laughed, Bucky placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Tony, he's not kidding.” Steve was about to continue, but Friday interrupted with another update.

“His temperature has reached 112.” Loki and Bucky both worked on applying rags, Steve pulling out his phone. 

“Did she just say 112?” Tony asked, his voice sobering up of a joking tone. 

“It was 110 when Loki got in contact with us.” Steve said, his ear pressed against the phone. “T’Challa - I know you're heading here quickly, but it's hit far past a critical situation.” He moved to the other side of the room as he talked to the King, glancing back every so often.

“So he wasn't lying…” Tony trailed off, sounding a bit guilty.

“Lying about what?” Bucky asked, sounding a bit ticked. “Did Clint tell you he was hurt and you ignored him?” 

“I thought he was trying to get out of clean up duty!” Tony argued, sounds of him moving coming faintly from the other line. 

“What even happened out there?” Loki asked, trying to stay calm. Tony sighed, starting to explain the mission and what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zemo had been on the run and the team was tracking him down for the past week. They found him in Richmond, Kentucky and had him cornered in a small farm on the outskirts of town. The family had been working in the field became his hostages and the group of heroes were trying to figure out a way to get them safe without letting Zemo go again. 

Unknown to the whole group, Clint was sneaking towards the family to get them away with an attack he set up with Spiderman, but the littlest kid saw him walking toward them. He ran, his family following to grab him which caused Clint to run forward the same time Spiderman did.

Zemo fired the unknown weapon he had at the retreating family, but the were being protected by two heroes. As the mystery blast came towards them, Clint fired off his shot, hitting Spiderman down to the ground on purpose so he wouldn't get caught in the hit. Despite the pain and the blast that rattled him to the bones, he fired another shot and it went in the barrel of the gun, exploding in Zemo’s hand.

The villain dropped it and the others charged forward, easily taking down the group of villains. Spiderman reported his injury to Tony, saying that Clint did it on purpose and Tony became angry, taking his rage out on Clint in a way he thought wouldn't cause the man harm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, he saves your kid from getting blasted with this and you punish him despite claiming he got hurt?” Bucky asked as Loki gripped the rag in his hand tighter than it needed to be. “Where does that make sense Stark?! You could've just asked him about it!” The two argued on, Loki mulling over his rage without even realizing his hands were left on Clint's side.

“Clint's temperature has decreased to 111.” Friday broke up the fight with her words, Steve pulling back from his call to look over.

“What did you do?” Bucky asked Loki and he looked down to his hands. He removed thin sheet he had thrown over the naked man down to show off his upper half, a nasty bruise on his side. 

“Hand me one of those rags.” Despite his confusion, Bucky gave one of them to Loki and the god laid it over the bruise with his hands on top of it. “Is his temperature going down Friday?” 

“It is!” The trio looked between each other as sound came from the hallway. T’Challa appeared in the door frame with his younger sister behind him, both quickly moving over to the archer. Bucky quickly caught them up in Wakandan, pausing every once in a while to get Loki a new rag. 

“That's peculiar.” Shuri furrowed her brow as she pulled out her own scanner, doing a scan over his body before letting out a yelp at the sight of Loki's hands. He hadn't even noticed they went blue in the time that he had been holding the rags, looking down to them before they flashed back to match the rest of his flesh. 

“I'll explain later.” He shrugged off her questioning look before nodding his head towards his bow and quiver. “From what Tony said of their mission, traces of whatever he was shot with may be on his equipment.” She nodded, moving to scan the weapons as T’Challa moved closer. He placed a hand on Clint's cheek, pulling back with a frown. 

“What is his temperature?” He asked, Friday answering quickly.

“109.7 Your Highness.” He looked down to Clint in shock.

“It was 112 before.” Loki informed him, T’Challa handing him another rag. 

“The highest recorded temperature was 115 degrees, was it not?” Bucky nodded at T’Challa’s words.

“And if Loki hadn't pieced together where to apply the coldness to, I think he would have topped the record.” ******************************************************************************************* It took nearly a month, but Clint's temperature and wounds were healed up nicely and the man was more than excited to get out of bed. From what the team had discovered, the stuff that Zemo shot at the archer was the start of a laser; holding the searing heat, but nothing that would show on the skin. The blast made the rays seep into his skin and his weapon, the man taking the hit so that others wouldn’t. During his recovery, he hadn’t been allowed to do much of anything except talk to whoever visited him. “Knock knock.” Loki stood at the door, a box of pizza in his hands.

Clint gasped, making grabby hands at both the pizza and him. “My god, my two favorite things; you and pizza.” Loki chuckled as he walked over.

“It's a good thing you mentioned me first or you wouldn't be getting the pizza.” Loki sat on the bed beside him, opening the box for them to share. Clint closed it, reaching over the cardboard to grab his hand.

“I know I've said it a few other times, but thank you.” Clint said, a serious look in his eyes. “If you hadn't checked on me, I probably would have died our in the boonies of Kentucky without saying something I should have a while ago.” Loki raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “We've been together for nearly four months and we haven't said the L-Word.” Loki snorted at him and Clint playfully hit his chest. “I'm being serious!” His proclamation held no anger, Clint looking at him seriously again. “I almost died and I never had the chance to say it to you.” He placed a hand on his cheek. “I really do care for you Loki, more than I can say. I just wasn't brave enough to fully say it.” Loki went to speak, but Clint only continued. “Getting hurt like that made me realize how fast we can die in this job and I'd kick myself all through the afterlife if I never said it to you.” He paused for a second, looking into his eyes. “I love you Loki, more than you could ever know.” 

Loki moved closer, the pizza discarded and forgotten by Clint's feet for the moment. “I love you too Clint; I was scared that I lost you.” They held onto each other, a silence passing between them before Clint's stomach rumbled.

“It can smell the pizza.” He joked and Loki laughed, reaching down to bring the box back. He turned to look at Loki, his eyes widening a bit when the god caught his lips in his own before they closed, melding into the action. It was short and sweet, Clint pulling back with a smile on his lips. 

“We can share a few more of those after we eat, agreed?”

“Agreed.”

[allee-e-writing-blog]

How They Get Together in my Whump Universe - Catbird/RoyalFalcon/T’Sam/Sam’Challa (Someone help me with this ship name please)

Copperhead and King Cobra went down after a few minutes of fighting, Bruiser being a bit more of a struggle for Sam. His skill made fighting the other two easier, but the behemoth of a man in front of him would be a bit more of a problem. He didn’t have long to handle the situation - T’Challa was still in the meeting with the UN and he refused to let the same thing happen again. No one was supposed to know of the meeting; they picked to hold the emergency meeting at Jan Mayen for a reason. Sam knocked Bruiser against the ground, a grunt passing his lips when he got thrown off. Mumbling to himself about his wings being broken, he put a finger to his com.

“Need back up, unfriendlies on deck.” He called, ducking under Bruiser’s swing with a curse before he rolled between his legs as T’Challa’s voice sounded in his ear. 

“I’ll be right out; we’re starting an evacuation for now.” T’Challa informed him and Sam nodded. 

“Copy!” Sam confirmed before he got hit from behind. The weight on top of him shifted and he felt like something bit him, not a bug, but a human or an animal. “What the-” He looked up at who had gotten off of him, his stomach dropping at the raven haired woman. “Viper…” He tried to move to his knees, but his body wasn’t responding. The bite flashed into his head again and he closed his eyes, knowing he was poisoned by the woman. 

“I’m glad that you’re conscious enough to remember my name.” She smirked with a laugh, walking towards him. She kicked him in the gut and he rolled over a few times, the man grunting as he tried to get oxygen back into his lungs. “Shame that your dead body can’t tell your friends who did this to you.” She nodded to Bruiser and the man nodded in return, hefting up Sam like he was a gypsy girl named Esmeralda. 

“Sam!” He heard T’Challa cry before his world shifted, his body plummeting towards Nordlaguna Lake that the meeting place overlooked. He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open as his body began to shake. Nothing was responding anymore and the partially frozen water was getting too close for comfort. Everything was cold and it was hard to hold his breath when nothing responded to him. 

Water was entering his lungs and he sputtered for breath, begging his arms to move, but it led to nothing. A pulsating sound filled his ears, his body flared up in pain from the poison and his mind started to fade. Drowning while poisoned was not the way he thought to go, but at least it was relatively peaceful. Sam gave up on trying to get out of this; there wasn’t any way unless T’Challa had jumped in directly afterwards and he hadn’t heard that, so this was it. This was his last mission.

And he had failed. ******************************************************************************************* T’Challa rushed out of the room as the other UN members evacuated, the King wanting to help Sam. The two originally had a slightly hostile relationship when the two met, but once he discovered that Bucky hadn’t been the one to cause the explosion, the two became friends. A title that T’Challa wished to change. 

Shrugging off his thoughts, he moved forward, his suit slipping out of his necklace and onto his skin. He shoved open the doors as he ran into the snow, his suit adjusting instantly to the cold weather as he moved. Sam was being held over Bruiser’s head, bleeding from a bite mark on his left arm. “Sam!” He cried as he ran faster, the villain throwing the bird towards the lake below them. T’Challa growled, lunging for the villains who stood to watch Sam fall. Bruiser went down easier than he or Viper expected, the woman fleeing instead of staying to fight. 

“Need backup at the meeting.” He called into his com before running towards the place Sam was thrown down. T’Challa jumped after him, wind rushing past his ears as he headed for the water. He easily spotted the hole from where Sam crashed in, aiming for the spot so it would be easier to find him. 

His mask kept the water out of his mouth as he looked through the murky water for Sam. He swam down quickly when he spotted him, pulling him up to the surface as fast as he could, throwing off his mask when he got them both to firm ground.

T’Challa checked for a pulse in a panic, the king momentarily losing his cool when he couldn't feel anything. He started on CPR, his body springing into action before his head could even follow. He tipped Sam's head back, pinched his nose before pulling his mouth open, starting to perform rescue breaths. 

This was not how he imagined touching lips with Sam would be like.

It took a few sets, but Sam started to cough, T’Challa turning him over so he could get the liquid out of his lungs easier. “Easy Sam, easy.” He rubbed his back gently, concern clear on his features over the bird. Sam rested against T’Challa’s arm once he felt he got all the water out of his lungs, looking up to him weakly.

“W-What about-" He cut himself off with a cough, whimpering a bit before attempting to speak again. “What happened with-" He hissed as he tried to talk, another bought of coughs stopping him. 

“Everyone's safe, no need to worry.” T’Challa tried to calm him, scooping him up. Sam wrapped his arms around his neck, holding onto him. “I took care of the villains up there, we don't need to worry about them.” He started to make his way back up to the building, Sam shivering in his arms. “I'll keep you warm.” ******************************************************************************************* Sam was under a mess of jackets, T’Challa keeping him wrapped up as much as he could. Sam had sweat on his brow, his fever slowly increasing as time went by. Communications beyond the small island the group of ambassadors met on wasn’t working, the heroes unable to contact the rest of their team with it down. 

The snow that had been falling earlier was only getting worse, talk of a strong snow storm making its way through the people in the room. T’Challa tried to calm the fears of the others around him while still tending to Sam, mentally cursing his insistence that he and the bird in question could handle protecting the meeting by themselves. He placed a hand on Sam’s forehead again, frowning at how quick the fever was setting in. 

“This isn’t just the poison here; there’s something else making him sick.” He mumbled it more to himself than anyone else, his brow knit together in worry. “What the hell’s in that water…” He trailed off, glancing back down to Sam.

“It could be pneumonia.” T’Challa glanced back at the guard who was standing behind him. “My brother had it recently - fever set in quickly and was caused by bacteria from an unclean pool.” 

“I think you may be right. And if that’s the case, we’re in a worse situation then we already are.” The guard nodded, looking over to T’Challa.

“What are we going to do? Are the other heroes on their way?” He shook his head as he stood, sending a glance down to Sam.

“They disrupted communications and I can’t get in contact with them. I need to go find a way to either get help from the local town or to get back in touch with my team.” He looked over to the guard as he slipped his mask back on. “Keep watch over him for me, I’ll return soon.” ******************************************************************************************* T’Challa had a bit of a struggle of climbing with snow starting to get heavier and he frowned, moving faster to get up to the radio tower on the building. If he could tap into the tower directly, there’s a high likelihood that he could access the team and get everyone out of this. He tampered with the tower a bit, knowing that the radio aspect of the tower itself wouldn’t be the access point to get to the team, but it may amplify his signal enough to notify them if he sends out the emergency signal - something he had been doing for the past ten hours without victory. 

Trying to channel the brilliance of his sister, he messed with a few more of the wires on the top of the antenna of the tower, a dull buzzing in his com giving him a spark of hope. He pressed the emergency button on his com, his hope short lived as the buzzing stopped a few minutes later. He adjusted the wires again, moving them around to try to get the sound back, but he got nothing but silence. T’Challa sighed, starting to make his way down again. While he would love to stay up there and try to get the signal back, he still had a room of ambassadors, guards and a sick Sam that he needed to return to.

“Any luck?” The guard asked when T’Challa returned to the room, all conversation stopping to hear the results. 

Thinking on his feet, the king replied quickly. “I was able to send the distress signal to the team; they shall be responding to it soon.” People were flooded with relief as he moved to be beside Sam, feeling his forehead again. “Did his temperature rise while I was gone?” He looked to the guard who grimly nodded.

“I think he’s hitting a point of delirium; he was calling out for someone named Riley and for you.” T’Challa looked down to Sam at the name, frowning. While he hadn’t known too much of the man, he knew that Riley was a close friend of Sam, the two serving together before Riley tragically passed. “He didn’t want you to end up like Riley, he pleaded for you to come back. That he couldn’t lose you or else he wouldn’t be able to stand it. That,” He paused, leaning in to talk quieter. “That he, you know, that he loved you.” T’Challa fought every instinct to freeze, looking back up to the guard. “No one heard, he whispered that part.” The guard said quickly after, causing T’Challa to relax. “I was tempted to go back to get you to calm him down, but he quieted down when I started to leave and stopped trying to get up.”

“He was trying to sit up?” T’Challa couldn’t help but look back down to Sam after what he found out. The guard nodded from the corner of his eye.

“He got that far, was trying to get to his feet.” T’Challa tucked one of the jackets a bit closer to Sam that had been moved in the attempt as the guard kept speaking. “He almost got to his knees, but I got him back down before he could. Scared the crap out of me - I thought he had woken up.” T’Challa wiped at the sweat on his brow, the ambassadors in the room talking to each other filling the empty space between him and the guard. “How long till your team comes?” 

The topic shift was nice instead of the silence, but it took T’Challa a moment to frag his thoughts away from Sam and to the question asked of him. “I’m unsure; the signal seemed to have sent, but I had no verbal confirmation from the team that someone heard it in real time or if they’ll be getting a notification from it.” He looked up to the guard. “It was long enough to track the location, but I don’t think any of them were expecting it. I know that they’ll be here soon, I have no doubts of my team.” The guard seemed to relax at his words, sending a final glance to Sam before drifting over to the other guards to let them know of his information.

T’Challa sighed as he looked down to Sam, finally alone from the eyes of others to relax a bit. He felt his forehead again without a thought, frowning more as his temperature was only increasing. “In only a few moments; what could this bacteria be that got you sick so quickly?” He mumbled, ensuring that he was covered with jackets. While they may not be the warmest things, they were the closest thing to a blanket that they had in the impromptu meeting house the small island housed for them. He sighed as he held Sam’s hand, rubbing small circles into the skin - not to calm Sam, no, to calm himself. With the man he was crushing on down and a group full of terrified people, stress was not on his side. T’Challa just hoped his team came soon. If not for their reputation, for Sam. Because this sickness was just getting worse and worse and he had didn’t want to think of what would happen if it didn’t get better. ******************************************************************************************* It was nearly twenty minutes later when the sound of a plane came from outside and people rejoiced, T’Challa quickly getting to his feet with Sam in his arms. He made eye contact with the guard from before. “Keep everyone here while I talk to the team and get him situated with medical care.” He nodded, the small team of guards keeping people at ease while T’Challa calmly walked out of the room. Once the door shut behind him, he ran, only slowing when he met Bucky and Steve in the hall by the door.

“Holy sh-”

“Language.” Steve interrupted on instinct as the two got closer, the blonde attempting to take Sam from his arms. 

T’Challa didn’t let go, looking over to Bucky. “White Wolf.” At the shift to speaking in Wakandan, Bucky grabbed Steve’s arm to stop him, looking at T’Challa with all his attention. “There’s 45 members of the UN in the meeting room.” Bucky looked a bit confused.

“Isn’t there more members in the UN than just that?” 

T’Challa nodded as he adjusted Sam in his arms. “Not all could make the meeting in such a short time, but that matters not. Get extra planes and get these people out of here; I need to tend to Sam.” Bucky nodded, making an X with his arms before leading Steve down the hall with a swift explanation as to why he got rejected by T’Challa. The king rushed down the hall and to the ship that was outside, quickly situating Sam onto one of the beds inside before starting to fly off, heading to his home to get the medical attention needed as fast as he could. ******************************************************************************************* The recovery process took longer than expected even with Wakandan tech, the poison that Viper used making Sam’s system even more susceptible to the bacteria that cause the pneumonia. T’Challa walked down to Shuri’s lab to check on Sam like he had for the past four days. He stopped short at the door when he saw Shuri and Sam talking like good friends, the two laughing at the “experiment” that Shuri had him do when testing out the suits.

“Sam?” His named tumbled from T’Challa’s lips in a mix of a question and a statement, not expecting him awake nor expecting him to be watching one of the few embarrassing moments his sister was able to capture on camera. The two looked up, Shuri quickly putting away the screen she used to show Sam the scene, smiling widely at her brother.

“Brother, you’re here earlier than normal.” She tried to brush off the clip, T’Challa rolling his eyes as he approached.

“We shall talk about video privacy later sister dear, but I believe I heard mother was looking for you while I was on my way here.” She nodded at his excuse, quickly excusing herself from the two as she left the lab to leave them alone. With it just the two of them, T’Challa moved closer to Sam. “How are you feeling Sam?”

“Much better; cleared of my fever and everything.” Sam motioned to the spot beside him on the cot, T’Challa sitting down with a nod of thanks.

“Sam, I have a…” He paused a moment before continuing, “I have a question.” Sam lost the humorous attitude that the video brought, his face turning serious. “When you were in the swell of sickness while we were still on Jan Mayen, you mentioned something about Riley.” He tensed up at that. “You even tried to get up, saying that you didn’t want me to end up like him and that I had to come back. And that you said that you,” He looked into Sam’s eyes. “That you loved me.” Sam froze, a blush covering his cheeks before he put his head in his hands.

“I, uh, God, this is awkward.” Sam let out a burst of tense laughter before glancing back up to T’Challa. “Not only did my PTSD slip out in front of you, I also confessed to my crush in my state of pneumonia-induced delirium. Great.” He pinched the bridge of his nose before T’Challa laughed, Sam flinching a bit. 

“I apologize, I was not laughing at you, just your way of phrasing.” He sent Sam a smile. “I’m just glad that I don’t hold these feelings alone.” Sam removed his hand, looking at T’Challa in slight shock, his jaw slack. “I know some birds enjoy eating bugs Tweety, but I never imagined you enjoyed eating flies.” He pressed a peck to his cheek before rising to his feet, the king looking down to the still dazed Sam, his mouth now closed. “Come along Sam, I do believe the others are worried and willing to break into Wakanda soon if we don’t give them an update on your health status.”

(Promt #12 from @promptsforyourwhumpfic I love their prompts way too much)

[allee-e-writing-blog]

Wanda hit the ground with a grunt, lunging for the door, but it quickly shut. Her shoulder collided with the thick metal and she grunted, trying again to get the same result with twice the pain. She rested back against the door with a sigh, looking down to her wrists. The bracelets she wore blocked her powers, leaving the woman a bit defenseless against the group of villains who took her. Her eyes trailed upwards, taking in the room she was thrown into. 

The chill that had started to sink through her jacket made sense now, the small walk-in freezer she was stuck in getting much colder with the door closed again. There was nothing in the room but her at this point, the woman quickly pushing herself up to her feet to stay off the metal ground. Glad that she was wearing pants instead of the shorts she was thinking of, she stayed close to the center of the room, trying to calculate how to get out of the situation. 

She had only went for a walk through the park while everyone else was messing around - she even went as far as to wear a full cover so that it would be hard to recognize her at a glance. The witch had just gotten into reading the book she brought along with her when something pierced her neck and her body froze up as her vision went black. She was dizzy when she woke up, the woman disoriented as she was dragged down the hallway and thrown in here, but she sobered up when she felt the chill around her. 

“The others are going to kill me.” She mumbled to herself, hoping that the others noticed that she was gone before things took an even colder turn in the freezer she was now trapped in. There was no way that she could get out of this alone; the emergency handle that was on her side of the door metal instead of plastic. She turned around, glancing back to check that her fingers lined up with the handle to try to twist it open. She gasped, the initial flex of her fingers making something on her fingers tighten up. “What the-” She looked down further, a weight on the sides of her fingers processing for her.

Her shackles didn’t just keep her wrists together or block her powers, they were keeping her fingers from moving. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She muttered, feeling the braces start to get tighter without even moving. She hissed, nearly taking a knee with how much her fingers were being compressed, staying to her feet. Wanda looked around again, her breathing picking up with the constant sting in her fingers. She took a few deep breaths, thinking to herself instead of speaking. ‘I have limited oxygen, I can’t be wasting it now.’ She closed her eyes, trying to keep calm. ‘The others will notice that I’m gone soon; I’ll be just fine’ She sighed at her own thoughts, calming down. ‘I’ll be getting out of this soon enough.’ ******************************************************************************************* It was nearly three hours later and Wanda couldn’t feel her legs or fingers for more reason than one. She was absolutely freezing and it felt that her fingers were about to fall off. There was a dull throbbing in her head and she just wished to either sit down or go to bed. She shook her head of the thought despite the pain that brought and blinked away her blurred vision with some struggle. The others were coming for her, she would be saved. They wouldn’t let her die in a freezer, would they?

Wanda frowned as she started to be filled with insecurities. Were they celebrating her being away? Had anyone even noticed her note in the living room? Did Friday even notice? She blinked, the ground now much closer and her knees much colder than before. Wanda hadn’t even realized she fell, her vision blurring again as she fought to stay on her knees instead of falling forward. 

She tried to move back to the wall - she needed to get back up to her feet. Her body would get colder on the ground, wouldn’t it? Or was it that she would get warmer? Her thoughts were swimming and she couldn’t think straight anymore, glancing back to the door. The metal knob was sticking out of the door and she crawled towards it, knowing that she needed to get out before it was too late. 

She bit down around the knob, turning her head as best as she could to get it open. It took Wanda a few attempts and a lot of pain, but the knob fully turned and the door cracked open. She shoved against it with her shoulder, her fingers tingling as the movements started another bought of tightening on the limbs. She heard the sound of fighting up ahead as the woman crawled forward, stopping again when the world started to blur again. Oxygen was filling her lungs, but the carbon dioxide poisoning she suffered while in the freezer wasn’t making her trek to freedom any easier. 

“Wanda!” She looked up at the call of her name, falling forward as a blur of colors moved closer to her. A set of arms caught her just in time, Vision looking over the woman with worry in his eyes. “Wanda, can you hear me?” He looked her over, her eyes closed as her fingers were squeezed more. He phased a hand through the shackles, destroying the tech from the inside out as he placed a hand to his com. “I need help down here; I found Wanda, but something’s wrong.”

“Be right there.” Doctor Strange responded first, Vision sighing softly as he took Wanda in as a whole. Her skin was pale, sweat on her forehead despite the cold as her hands seemed to shake in the warmth. The skin was blackened at the tips, not from the crushing, but from the coldness of the freezer she was stuck in. Another set of hands made its way into Vision’s view, the man looking up to Stephen Strange with a slight frown. “It seems she has a bad case of frostbite; stage three at the minimum.” He gently touched one of her fingers before moving to run a few other checks on her vitals. “I may need to call in a bit more help on this…” He mumbled before looking up to Vision. “Go help the others, I’ll watch over her.”

“But-”

“Go.” Stephen refused to take no for an answer and Vision sighed, quickly moving down the hall. The faster they finished the fight, the faster he could return to Wanda. 

And he would do everything to get back to that woman. ******************************************************************************************* Vision played with Wanda’s hair, glancing down to the bandaged hands he longed to hold. The team had been celebrating over a finished mission, no one noticing that she had left until he brought it up. After finding the note and a needle with carisoprodol in it, the team instantly started a search to find her. It had been a day since the incident and everyone was waiting for her to wake up, but Vision refused to leave the room. 

He wouldn’t leave until she woke up; till he saw her open her eyes again.

It was quiet in the room, minutes ticking by faster than most would think when doing nothing, but his racing thoughts on Wanda’s well-being helped it go by. After a few more hours of sitting around, she shifted and he froze, looking over her form. Her eyes opened, them shutting almost instantly afterwards.

“Friday, dim the lights please. And inform Doctor Strange and Doctor Banner that she is awake please.” He called to the AI and she did as told, the lights dimming enough so that it didn’t hurt as much when Wanda opened her eyes again. She attempted to reach out for him, but the stinging in her hands convinced her otherwise. Vision moved forward and stroked her cheek with a gentle hand, smiling down to her. “My, seems that I can’t leave you alone for too long, can I?” He joked and she laughed, a soft smile tugging at her own lips. 

“Guess you’ll have to stay with me next time instead of celebrating.” The sounds of footsteps down the hall alerted them that the others were coming, but neither cared about that at the moment. 

“I think that’s better than any party the others can hold.”

(Was scrolling through my feed and noticed that @toosicktoocare had been asking who we loved to see whumped from Marvel and that they wanted to see some whumped Wanda/Vision and I was thinking about this idea, so, why not? Thanks to them for the inspiration on who do do this idea on!)

[allee-e-writing-blog]

How They Get Together in my Whump Universe - FrostHawk

“I wasn’t injured, I was lightly stabbed.” Clint argued and Loki sent him a glare. 

“I’m sorry, did you say stabbed?!” He hissed and Clint only smiled.

“Again, lightly stabbed.” He ducked down more when bullets scattered overhead.“I didn’t want you to worry.” His glare went from Clint to the agents shooting them, the god sending a burst of magic back to hit their attackers. 

“This is not what I signed up for when you said this was an easy mission the two of us could handle.” He looked back to him. “Where’d you get stabbed?”

“Here.” He lifted up his armored suit, showing more than one wound that was far too deep for Loki’s liking. “Would you look at that; there’s more than I anticipated, but we’ll be fine.”

“You’re an idiot.” He sighed as he glanced over their cover to see how many were left. “Ten unfriendlies; think we can take them?” Loki asked before ducking down from the gunfire. Clint didn’t respond, the god glancing over to where he had been kneeling. He muttered a curse, checking for a pulse on the unconscious man. “God, I can’t leave you alone, can I?” Loki mumbled before speaking into his com. “Clint’s down and I still have too many on us. Anyone able to assist?” He fired off a few more blasts after speaking, waiting for a response.

“We’ll be there soon Loki.” Steve answered almost right away, the man sighing softly. 

“Someone drag along Dr. Banner, Clint’s definitely needing medical.” He informed before going back to the firefight, blocking out the talking on the other line.

“How can we trust him? What if it’s a trap?” Tony asked, Steve scoffing before speaking.

“Haven’t we gone over this? It’s been nearly two months now Tony; Loki’s on our team now - Jo’s made sure of it. And even beyond that, Clint’s hurt. I think that’s far more important than you questioning the loyalty of one of your teammates.”

“You know, I can hear you when you talk over the coms.” He pointed out, grunting as more bullets sounded off. “And you’re arguing just adds a bit more stress to my situat-” He cut himself off when a bullet went through the cover. “Get here faster.” He scooped up Clint, trying to keep him as close to his own body as possible so they couldn’t aim for any of the archer’s arms or legs. “Or you won’t have to worry about bringing Banner.” He spotted another cover behind them, running there to the sound of more guns. 

He grunted, skimmed with a few of the bullets as another went through his shoulder, but a check-over on Clint proved that he was unharmed in the moving. Loki sighed in relief, but the bullets following them changed the emotion quickly. “I know that this is still an experimental spell for me, but I’ll test my luck today.” He mumbled, placing a hand on Clint’s head. “Rodgers, incoming.” As the blond was questioning the meaning, he casted a teleportation spell, using most of his focus on moving Clint.

He guessed that was why he was left behind.

“The hell?!” Steve cried through the coms, Loki ducking down as the bullets were chipping away at his cover.

“Did Clint make it there safely?” He asked, Steve not responding for a minute. “Steve, is he okay?”

“ ‘m good, but where’re you?” Loki felt a smile cross his face at Clint’s words, happy to find him awake.

“Cleaning up.” He glanced over the cover again, the number of foes having increased. “I’m against fifteen now; how far is backup?” He was met with silence again and he sighed, getting to work. He jumped his cover, ignoring the stinging in his shoulder as he rushed towards his attackers. ******************************************************************************************* Loki panted, his Asgardian blood healing his wounds, but the pain remaining. He had finished taking out the gang members, his magic power low from all the spells he had casted. Loki had discovered the hard way that these villains weren’t just mindless lakies - to his surprised, most of them knew magic and even had spells to counter his own. And that was why he had gotten injured more than he’d like to admit. No one had shown, but Steve was giving him updates on Clint’s condition the whole time he was fighting. Bruce had been having a scientific meeting in Queens from what he had said, Steve taking the time to patch Clint up as best he could.

“Bruce just got in, how are you fairing Loki?” Steve asked, Loki closing his eyes before teleporting himself to the Tower. It hurt like hell, but he was left kneeling beside the blond when he opened his eyes.

“Pretty well; got shot a lot and those men were hiding a large amount of magical power.” Steve moved towards him quickly, helping him into one of the beds beside Clint. The archer seemed to be sleeping peacefully, his wounds wrapped from Steve patching him up in the absence of Bruce. 

“I wish I had been closer; the traffic was horrible and I was all the way across town.” He came back from the sinks as he spoke, gloves on his hands as he looked between his patients to see they multiplied. “I’ll handle Loki first then do a check on-”

“No.” Loki said, looking to the doctor. “My wounds can heal themselves, Clint’s can not.” Bruce looked like he wanted to argue, but he sighed and nodded, getting to work on checking over Clint’s wounds.

“You can heal yourself like Thor can?” Steve asked, truly curious about his words. 

“While it’s not something instantaneous, I can easily heal from these wounds given a few hours.” He explained, relaxing against the bed. “It’s the way that Asgardians work; all are born with it.” He was lying out his ass, hoping that Steve would believe him. While what he spoke was true of Asgardians, it wasn’t as true for Jotunns. He had a healing factor, but it was nowhere as strong as he was trying to make the others believe. 

“That’s amazing.” Bruce spoke, checking over and repatching some of Clint’s wounds. “What determines how strong it is?” 

“Bloodlines, luck; we aren’t quite sure. The process of healing is different for everyone.” He closed his eyes. “I normally have to sleep to get the healing done while others like Thor may just relax to do his.”

“Should I cover any of the wounds then?” Bruce asked and Loki shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“If you wish; but finish with Clint first.” The other two in the room nodded, talking softly between each other as it got harder and harder for Loki to stay awake. The wounds were killing him, but he wouldn’t accept help - not until Clint was patched up first. While his wounds hurt and would take a while to heal, he’d rather see Clint fixed first. He was the first one to fully accept him as a member of the team beside his brother, the man putting aside what happened in their past because “When you forgive, you don’t change the past, you change the future and if Thor’s said you’ve changed, I believe him.” The two stayed close after that, spending time together as few of the team fully trusted him enough to stay with him for long periods of time. Loki let out a quiet sigh at his thoughts before they started to swirl, his blood loss getting a bit too much for the god. ******************************************************************************************* Thor walked down the hall towards the infirmary, a frown on his features. He had heard from Steve when he walked in moments ago that Loki was in the infirmary due to an attack that occurred earlier. His mission debriefing forgotten, he went to check on his brother. Bruce was on the last wound of Clint when Thor walked in, the doctor looking up to him.

“Thor, it’s nice to-” The god rushed past him and to Loki, worry in his form as he checked to see if he was still breathing. “Thor?”

“Why have you not covered his wounds?” He put a hand over the shoulder wound, Loki’s body tensing, but that was the most of a reaction he got out of him. 

“He said that his healing would fix it.” Bruce was confused, looking over to the gods as he finished with Clint. “He said that all Asgardians have a healing factor like you, but they aren’t always as strong.”

“He’s right on that, all do.” Thor looked up at Bruce. “But Loki was not born Asgardian.” Bruce’s mouth went dry as he jumped into action, both he and Thor working together to get his wounds covered as Thor explained about the Jotun healing factor in comparison to the Asgardian one.

“So, while both of you have one, his is more for small, non-fatal injuries while yours is for, well, everything?” Thor nodded and Bruce looked down to Loki. “Then why would he lie about it? He was at as much risk as Clint was; why would he make me patch him up first?” He looked over to Thor who shrugged, looking down to his brother.

“I have a few ideas, but I am not positive on them as of yet.” Thor was going to speak more, but Loki opened his eyes. “Brother!” Loki turned his head with a light groan, blinking a bit before looking up at the two.

“When did you get here?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“That matters not; why did you lie to Banner?” Loki woke up a bit more at that, knowing that he was caught. 

He stayed quiet a moment, glancing over to Clint before sighing as he made eye contact with them both. “I was worried he would have a harder time recovering if he wasn’t looked over right away. He was injured heavily and I thought that it would be best if he was looked at first.” Thor raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you care so much?” Loki said nothing, Bruce putting it together. 

“Oh my god, do you have a crush on Clint?” Both stared at the trickster on the bed, the god running a hand through his hair.

“So what if I do?” Bruce was smiling like a pre-teen girl who found out that the jock liked her while Thor just clasped his brother on the shoulder - the bad one no less.

“I would be very happy.” They all stopped when Clint spoke up, all three looking over to the archer. He was looking over to them all, looking tired, but smiled widely. “It would mean that I’m not the only one with these feelings.” Bruce looked over to Thor, grabbing his arm gently and pulled him away from the two so they could talk without a crowd. “I was hoping that you felt the same, but I couldn’t get a good read on you to decide on if you did or not.”

Loki sat up, swinging his legs over the bed. “Oh, worry not, I’ve felt the same for quite a while now.” He walked over to the bed, his legs a bit wobbly, but Clint shuffled over to create room for them both on his bed, lifting the covers for Loki. He slipped in as he continued speaking. “Ever since you took the time to get to know me, I’ve been feeling it.” Clint yawned, resting against his arm.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one who sat on his feelings for nearly six months.” Loki laughed, smiling as Clint closed his eyes.

“Rest for now my Engel, you and I both need it.”

(Prompt #31 @promptsforyourwhumpfic)

[allee-e-writing-blog]

How They Get Together in my Whump Universe - Stucky

Bucky sighed to himself as he walked through the crowd, plotting Tony’s murder in his head. He had dragged everyone to the mall to get new clothing after the recent events and they had left him behind when he got caught behind a crowd. And no one was answering their phones.

He was walking past a group of children when he felt it, the stinging in his arm that felt too real to be his prosthetic. There was a stream of apologies from the kids and Bucky looked down, grabbing the bouncy ball that must have escaped them. He held it out to them with his good arm, forcing out a bit of a smile at their stunned faces. “Stay in school kids.” He tipped his cap before starting to walk, knowing they recognized him and that he needed to find the others fast. While Jo had gotten the names of Team Cap innocent and proved to not be villains to the public, there were still many who didn’t approve of him no matter what the plea.

He felt it again, but this time felt the prosthetic too when he got ripped back by a random person. Well, a random body builder if the strength and appearance of the person said anything. “What are you doing here you murderer? Getting a new set of orange suits?” He taunted and Bucky shook off the hand, turning around to get away from the guy. He didn’t need this and wasn’t going to sit through being insulted with his arm throbbing like it was. “I’m still speaking with you. Not like anyone else would want to spend time with a psychopath like you.”

Bucky almost cried out this time when the guy pulled him back by his arm, a glare on his face. “Leave me alone.” Bucky said as her tried to get the guy to walk away.

“No, people like you don't deserve to have mercy shown to them.” The man challenged, letting go of his arm. “You didn't show your victims mercy, why should I show you?”

A bit of a crowd started to form and Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, walking away from the situation faster than he had the first time. The guy tried to grab him again, but the soldier ducked out of the way and started moving through the crowd.

“Killer!” The man yelled after him as he left, him quickly walking towards a nearby clothing store. He grabbed a random shirt that seemed his size, looking it over before making his way into the dressing rooms as casually as possible. He breathed out sharply when in the small room, sitting on the little bench attached to the wall as he tried to calm down. His arm throbbed as he worked his phone out of his pocket, real pain blending with the pain his mind made up.

He prayed that Steve would answer, closing his eyes as his head thumped back against the dressing room wall when he didn't. After the beep, he left a message. “Uh, hey Steve. I know this is the fifth call I made, but um,” He sighed, pulling one of his legs up onto the bench with him. “I lost you guys and the phantom pains are hitting hard today. Call me when you get this so we can figure something out.” He hung up, looking around the room.

He bit his lip when a surge of pain hit him, Bucky cringing in on himself. “I'm killing someone when I find them.” He mumbled to himself, taking each surge of pain as it came, waiting for the others to check their messages.

*******************************************************************************************

Steve sighed as Tony sighed a few more autographs, him surveying the group to check in on everyone. This was the third wave of fans in the span of five minutes and he was honestly getting a bit tired of the attention. He looked over the group again, eyebrows furled as he noticed something was off.

Bucky was missing.

He frowned as he pulled out his phone, a notification stating that he missed six calls from Bucky. He quickly slipped away from the group, listening over the voicemails. The first four were lighthearted, full of teasing and the normal jesting the two shared. But the fifth one made his stomach drop.

“Uh, hey Steve. I know this is the fifth call I made, but um,” Bucky sighed through the phone, a bit of shifting came from the him. “I lost you guys and the phantom pains are hitting hard today. Call me when you get this so we can figure something out.” Steve's heart stopped on the recent message - the one he had gotten only minutes before. “The pain’s getting worse Stevie. I-I need someone here soon. I don't know where you guys are but-" His recording cut off with another call.

It was Bucky. Steve answered on the second ring, Bucky taking in a shaky breath on his side. “Buck.” Steve breathed out.

“Stevie.” Bucky mumbled, pain clear in his voice. “I-I don't think I can walk like this. You're gonna need to find me. I'm in a clothing store.”

“I can do that Buck, just tell me where you are, alright?” He walked from the group, heading towards the map of the mall that was in the middle of the main walkway.

“I don't know, I ran in here too fast to read any signs.” Bucky seemed like he was starting to panic, Steve moving quickly to calm him down.

“Tell me about the music. Listen to it closely; do you know it?” There was a pause, the labored breathing starting to shift to calm again - the process was slow, but Steve heard the change.

“Something that Tony would play at his parties.” Steve's eyes started to scan over the names of the clothing stores on the first floor. “No real words to it, just a bunch of sounds that mash together.”

“How many dressing rooms were there?”

It took him a second. “Three.” Steve started his search, asking Bucky little details about the store he could pick up to make it easier to find as well as calm him down so he didn't have a panic attack.

*******************************************************************************************

It took a couple of tries to find it, but this one looked promising especially when he could hear the music from the store he was in through Bucky’s side of the phone. Two of the three dressing rooms were closed, Steve taking the risk to knock on the door as he moved the phone away from his mouth.

“Bucky?” He asked softly.

“I'm here.” Steve tried the door, a bit surprised when he found it was unlocked. Despite the confused looks, he closed the door behind him, taking Bucky in fully. He was curled in on himself at this point, his left arm limply lying beside him. Bucky looked up, eyes looking glossy. “Hi Steve.” He whispered and Steve knelt  in front of him.

“Hi Buck.” Steve sent him a smile, grabbing his flesh arm. He squeezed it tight and Steve moved to sit beside him. “Tell me what's happening Buck.”

He looked down to his arm, explaining what happened when he lost the others. He kept his eyes down, not looking at Steve. “He's right.” He said softly after a minute of silence. The anger Steve had been trying to put a lid on cooled down in an instant, confusion replacing the emotion. “The guy's right.” He repeated, glancing up to Steve. “I don't deserve mercy - I don't deserve the clean slate Jo got us or the team caring for me.” Bucky curled in a bit on himself, looking down again. “I caused the team to divide and everything went to shit because of me.” Steve put a hand over his mouth to stop him continuing.

“You're wrong. He's so wrong. Everyone deserves mercy when they did nothing wrong.” He spoke honestly, no lies in his words. “You weren���t in control of yourself Buck, that wasn’t you; it never would be. You’re not a murder or a psychopath, you’re Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes who fought hard for his country to protect those who can’t protect themselves and he still does no matter what name he takes.” Steve gently removed his hand from his mouth, moving to grab his metal hand so he held them both. “You’re a hero Buck; someone who saves the day and stops the villains. You don’t care if you got hurt, you care about other people more than yourself. That’s a hero in my eyes Buck; you definitely fit that bill. You’ve always fit that bill.”

Steve squeezed his hands a bit. “You lived with me and saved my ass from too many fights I picked without a chance of winning when I could barely go outside without dying. You took me under your wing and showed me what it was like to be a man and you’ve supported me through thick and thin.” Steve kept talking, Bucky just staring in shock over the whole confession. “You aren’t some psychopathic killer who kills for fun and shows no mercy to anyone because I can never see the man I-” He cut himself off before he spoke to far, stuttering a bit before coming up with a cover. “The man I’ve known almost all my life.”

Bucky uncurled from his ball, his pain forgotten as he looked Steve in the eyes, keeping his head down. “What were you going to say?” Steve said nothing. “I’ve known you forever Punk, you can’t get that stumble in your words pass me.” The two couldn’t help but share a smile at the nickname, good memories passing both their minds at that.

Steve took a deep breath, trying to think of how to say it. Bucky sat waiting, brows pressing towards each other the slightest bit, his confusion clear on his face. “It’s hard to put into words, but I…” He trailed off, looking over Bucky’s face once more. “Oh screw it.” He shook his head, using one of his hands to life Bucky’s face up to look at him fully. “I love you James. I have since we were kids.” Bucky blinked a bit, not expecting the confession or the use of his first name. His face stayed neutral for a few moments before a smile crossed his face, intertwining their fingers.

“I’ve been waiting nearly a century for you to finally admit that Stevie.” Steve smiled back at him, pulling his lifelong friend closer, the brunette resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. They stayed like that for a few minutes more before Bucky flexed out his arm, the pain faded. “Never realized that love confessions were the remedy to phantom pains.” He joked and Steve rolled his eyes, smiling at the joke as the two got to their feet.

“Come on Jerk, let’s go find the others before they ditch us both.” He still held his hand as the two left the dressing room, Bucky putting back the shirt on the rack. Steve stayed close, Bucky swinging their hands as they walked, neither caring about the eyes that followed them.

Time didn’t always match up for most, people leave your life too early or enter it too fast. But even for those who are out of their own time, love seems to stop every clock - even if you’re 100 years late.

[allee-e-writing-blog]

“Lean on me, your limp is getting worse.” Neither wanted to admit it, but it was getting way too obvious for Bruce to pretend he couldn’t see. Thor said nothing, continuing to walk. With the two lovebirds stranded on this unknown world with too much danger for his liking, he would not let his guard down nor let any possible enemies see himself and Bruce as easy pickings. He couldn’t let Bruce get hurt while he still had breath in his lungs.

“I’m alright; worry not elskling.” He couldn’t force up the charming smile he normally sent to Bruce at this point, just stating his words with the hope that the doctor would let it go.

“You keep saying it’s nothing and that you’re alright, but it’s definitely gotten worse.” Bruce argued back, grabbing his arm. “We’re separated from the others on a planet in a completely different galaxy - I can’t have you injured while we try to find everyone else! I can’t stand you being hurt when I could help you!” He was freaking out a bit, Thor sighing before conceding, not wanting to anger Bruce or risk him Hulking out. Bruce sighed happily as the god slung his arm around his shoulders, the weight something to get used to. “Come on, it looks like there could be some cover up there.”

The two made their way over, Thor feeling a bit of relief as he didn’t need to apply as much force in his walking. Bruce helped him down onto the ground, slipping off the jacket he wore as a makeshift pillow so Thor’s head wouldn’t be on the dirt. “I’m going to need to take off your boots, alright?” Thor nodded, closing his eyes. The hiss escaped his mouth before he could stop it when Bruce pulled, his hands quickly retreating as he looked to him in concern. “Sorry, sorry.” He breathed out before taking a deep breath, calming down. “I’m going to try again, okay? I need you to try to limit your movements and stay as quiet as you can for me.”

“Better spoken than done.” Thor mumbled and Bruce couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at his lips. The second attempt was successful, but ended with Thor getting dirt under his nails from his fists balling up in the dirt. The god’s leg was swollen by his femur and Bruce frowned at the already bruising limb. “Shit, that has ‘hospital’ written all over it.” He mumbled, his fingers gently grazing the wound to feel it far too tender for his liking. “I’m gonna take a lucky guess here and say that it’s broken.”

“Think a kiss would make it better?” Thor teased and Bruce rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“I don’t think ‘kiss it better’ is going to work in this case.” Bruce sent him a soft smile as he dug through his bag. “I have some extra cloth and there’s a few sticks over there; I’m making a splint for now.” He reached over and grabbed the wood, laying out the pieces he needed before looking down to the god. Thor sent him a smile despite the pain, nodding.

“I can take it.” Bruce nodded, starting to get to work. He mumbled apologies under his breath at every tense of Thor’s body, at every little grunt of pain that he couldn’t help but let out. The wood seemed sturdy enough and withstood the tight knots that Bruce used to keep the bone in place so it wouldn’t move too much.

“There.” He pulled back, sending Thor a slight smile. “While the splint won’t magically heal you, until we find the others, it’ll make sure that your bone doesn’t shift too much. I need you to take it easy now, you’ve put yourself through enough. You made it really far for being in such bad shape, you’ve earned a rest.”

Thor frowned. “But we should walk around to find the others instead of just staying here; how will they find us otherwise?” He tried to sit up, but Bruce eased him back down.

“I know you hate staying still but we have to wait. You can’t walk like this and I can’t carry you around the whole planet or trust that the Big Guy will either. While I can keep him at bay better, he’s still his own man.”Thor sighed and Bruce sent him an apology with his eyes. “Alright. For now,” He said, pointing at Bruce, “I shall rest. But when I feel better, we shall try to find the others. Agreed?” Bruce nodded, knowing it would take a while for him to be back on his feet. He kissed his forehead, the two sharing a soft smile.

“Agreed.”

*******************************************************************************************Thor had lost track of how long he had been laying down, Bruce going out to hunt from the food that he came back with. How much time had passed? How many gentle meals with talk of their home had they shared since he had been able to get up without the help of others? The hours were blurring into days and he was getting restless, but every twitch of his leg sent a jolt of pain up his spine that rattled the god too much for either’s liking.

“Do you think the others are alright?” His voice cut through the silence that passed while Bruce another meal for the two. “It’s been a few days, how long will it be till they find us?”

Bruce bit his lip as he stopped his cutting, debating on if he should tell Thor how long the two had truly been there. Today was the seventh day; a whole week passing since they had contact with their team before they crashed onto the planet they were stuck on. “I imagine it won’t be too much longer; they’re a stubborn bunch after all.” He forced his voice to stay level, to not let Thor in on it for now. If it extended farther than today, he’d tell him - he would have to. While not being able to move threw off Thor’s calendar, it wouldn’t stay like that forever.

The god reached out for him, Bruce looking over to him. “Come sit with me.” He asked and Bruce smiled, sending a glance to the cooking food before sitting beside him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the locks still pretty short from their time on Sakaar. “I’m glad that I was found by you.”

Bruce smiled, looking down to him. “Happy to have a doctor to tend to your wounds?” Thor shook his head, grabbing one of Bruce’s hands.

“I’m happy that I’m with you.” Bruce smiled wider at his confession, kissing his hand before glancing to the food again.

“I was worried when we crashed.” He confessed, rubbing small circles in Thor’s skin. “I was scared even. Another planet and we were all separated; I mean, what if we died in the crash or couldn’t find each other again? What if we couldn’t survive here in the time it took to find each other? Too many what ifs and worse case scenarios filled my mind when I was trying to find everyone.” Bruce shook his head, looking back down to Thor. “But then I found you by those flowers and I could have sworn I could cry out of relief of finding someone right then and there.”

“I felt the same.” Thor added before Bruce could continue. “No one was around and the communicators that Stark made were not working. I was injured in the fall and had problems walking.” He squeezed Bruce’s hand a bit. “I did not want to die here, not on a planet I did not know of or without a fight. Then you came from the woods and we travelled together.” He sent him a soft smile. “I really am glad that I’m with you.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather be with.” The two shared a short kiss before Bruce went back to cooking, Thor closing his eyes as the sound of Bruce’s whistling filled the air, calming the god down with ease.

*******************************************************************************************They had needed more water. Bruce promised he’d be back in fifteen minutes. It had to be at least that by now; Thor was sure of it. He even counted the seconds. Bruce wouldn’t be twenty minutes if he meant fifteen, right? Maybe something happened or maybe he found the others and was trying to show them where they were. Or maybe he got lost. Or attacked. Thor sat up despite the pain in his back from staying laid down for so long. “He can kill me later.” Thor mumbled, standing to his feet. It took a few solid attempts and it shot quite a few slashes of pain through him, but he ignored them.

Bruce could be hurt. Nothing else mattered right now.

His limp was the slightest bit better for the first few steps out of the hideaway they found, but once he started to get into a pattern of walking, it slowly started to deteriorate again. Shrugging off his fading ability to walk, he pressed on, listening to everything around him to try to locate Bruce. It was hard and he had to stop every so often so that he could hear past the blood pumping in his ears. Calming breaths and a chance to take a moment to catch his his head every time he stopped made it stop, but the more he walked, the louder it would get overtime.

He stopped short when he heard Bruce’s voice, but he wasn’t alone. “Come on, this way.”

“How bad was it?” Thor sighed in relief when he heard Steve, his knees buckling. He clung to the tree beside him, grunting a bit. Any conversation passed between the group stopped at the noise, but Bruce hurried over to it. He had a feeling on what it was and he had a mix of emotions when he found he was right.

“Thor! You’re not up to this, you can barely stand!” He moved quickly, placing a gentle hand to his arm. “Why did you try walking without help?” He frowned a bit, placing a gentle hand on Thor’s cheek.

“You were late.” Bruce sighed as the rest of the team came into view, a few scattered injuries shared among the group.

“And you have a broken femur.” The doctor chidded and Thor smiled, Bruce raising an eyebrow at his joy of the news.

“I also had a lovely doctor, so I guess that’s about even, yes?” Bruce sighed, Steve coming over to help move him.

“Yes. Yes it does.”

Translation

Elskling - Darling in Norwegian

[allee-e-writing-blog]

Clint hissed as he ducked behind another cover, his now destroyed with shards of stone in his arm as evidence. 

Shopping for the tower went down south very fast.

The crooks fired more shots, their weapons reminding him too much of the Chitauri for his comfort. He spoke into his com again, a bit of anger in his words. “Could use some backup guys; anyone on?” He was met with silence again and he mumbled a curse, digging through the bag, he sighed to himself as he looked for something to help from the wounds he suffered in the fight. “Let’s see what we have to play doctor with…paper towels, rubbing alcohol and…duct tape?” 

He doused a few of the paper towels, grinding his teeth as he cleaned the stab and gunshot wounds with the rubbing alcohol, mumbling to himself. “I’m gotta beat everyone’s asses when I get home.” He pulled a bunch of the tape off the wheel, putting it over the wound before wrapping it around a lot, covering the injuries. He grunted with each covering, glancing over his cover every so often.

“Anyone there?” He whispered into his com, praying for help; hoping that someone would hear his calls. He knew that Jo and her team were off in space somewhere on a mission, so it would be hard to get help from them, but the others should have been listening to their coms.

Clint sighed as he left the things he bought on the ground, moving to look at the attackers clearer. There was seven of them, each equipped with one of the rifle type weapons that the Chitauri used years ago. Despite the confusion of them having it, Clint knew he had to get one to fight back. He was weaponless against them and there were streets full of innocents who had no idea of what was happening at the shopping mall he was in. 

Clint waited for one of them to get closer, watching the way they interacted with each other to see his weakest link. Lady luck on his side for the moment, the one in question walked towards where he hid. Clint grabbed him, hand wrapped around his mouth while the other went around his neck and he pulled, the weapon hitting the ground as the man screamed behind his hand. 

Keeping a constant pressure on the man’s diaphragm made his consciousness fade and gave Clint the weapon he needed to fight this battle. Clint sighed as he grabbed the weapon, deciding for one last attempt. “Anyone awake?” He paused a few moments, hopeful for a response.

“I’m here Clint.” He sighed in relief at Loki’s words, happy that someone was awake. “I thought you were getting groceries; is everything alright?”

“There’s been an attack at the store; Chitauri weapons and everything. Don’t know too much but-” He cut himself off as the amount of men doubled, Clint narrowing his eyes. “Thirteen up, one down, I need backup on this - I’m already hurt.” 

“I’ll be there momentarily, stay there and stay hidden.” Loki’s words were only a wish, Lady Luck turning her back. Clint was spotted by one of the new arrivals, the group starting to approach the archer. 

“Too late for that!” He called into the com, getting the weapon ready. He charged forward to face the thugs with alien tech, hoping that Loki and the others got here sooner than he thought they would. ******************************************************************************************* “Too late for that!” Loki jumped from the bed, running down the hall as his pajamas shifted to his battle armor, the god skipping the elevator to get the stairs. The man-made machine would take too long and Clint didn’t have that.

“Friday, send the others an emergency wake up call. And get me Barton’s exact location.” He spoke quickly, the AI responding just as fast.

“Done. And he’s at Azure Plaza - the new shopping mall five blocks east from your location.” Loki nodded as he made it to the ground floor.

“Tell the others of the location.” He left the building before he could hear her reply, his mind only on the Archer. While they had a bit of a difficult introduction, Clint was one of the first ones to welcome him to the team aside from his brother. The two had bonded as no one else had spoken to him much, the bond going a bit further than a friendship for them both. 

His mind raced with how he could be hurt; Clint not one to ask for help unless it was a life or death situation. That thought alone made Loki move faster, the shopping strip coming into view as civilians stared at the running god. Forgetting about a full entrance plan, he ran straight in, daggers in hand as he was prepared for anything.

There were only six left, the other seven down as Clint fought in the middle of them, looking too pale and too tired for Loki’s liking. He threw his daggers, them hitting target with ease to take the number down to four. One of the men was thrown into a rage to see his friends taken down, using the sharp point of his weapon to stab Clint threw the stomach.

Loki cried out while Clint fought on, bleeding out, but still willing to keep the battle going. The next attack to Clint bounced off of him, the archer looking a bit dazed at the force field while Loki charged forward, anger in his full being. Any weapon hit slid off of him, the god using a force field of his own to ensure that he could fight without being hindered by any injuries. He hit the last one over the head with the butt of his blade, panting a bit before glancing over to Clint. 

The archer was barely conscious, slumped against the barrier as he blinked up at the god slowly. Loki moved to be beside him, easily phasing through the shield he made. Clint looked bad, the duct tape frayed or even broken at some parts with new wounds to lace his body that he hadn’t had time to cover or were added recently.

“Hey there Sly One.” He teased, coughing a bit. His teeth showed the signs of blood on them, a few dribbles of the liquid escaping the corner of his mouth.

“Hang on engel, I need you to stay awake for me.” Loki held his hand as he pressed a finger to his com. “What’s everyone’s ETA?” He asked, glancing over the unconscious bodies of the men the two took down. 

“I’m almost there.” Natasha called and Loki nodded, glancing down to Clint. His eyes were closed.

“Clint?” He squeezed his hand, the man not responding. “No, no, no; stay with me Barton, stay with me Engel.” He felt for a pulse, it barely there. 

“Holy hell.” He dropped the force field when he heard Natasha, glancing back to her. 

“Where’s Dr. Banner? He needs medical attention now.” Loki said and Natasha went onto the coms to speak. Clint squeezed his hand and Loki let out a soft gasp, looking back down to him.

His eyes were barely open, the baby blues looking far too dull to be his. “L-Loki…” He went to speak more, but another cough cut him off.

“Easy Clint, easy. I’m right here, I’m right here.” Loki was freaking out, he was repeating himself too much as he tried to move the hair in Clint’s eyes. 

“People. I-In back.” Loki looked back to Natasha, the woman still speaking as Steve, Bucky and Sam walked onto scene.

“Clint says that there’s people hiding in the back of the store.” Loki informed them, the trio approaching as Loki looked back down to the barely awake Clint. “I can’t leave him alone, I need you three to go and check that the civilians are safe.” 

“On it.” Steve said, the three heading towards the back of the store as more people came in. 

“Clint!” Loki could have cried when he heard Bruce, the doctor on his other side to help the situation. He went into doctor mode, questioning them both as he got to work on patching up Clint. 

Banner looked over the already ‘patched’ wounds with a frown. “I’m going to kill him; duct tape? That’s going to do nothing but make matters worse when we have to take it off.” He mumbled, finishing with the wrapping of his newer wounds. The doctor looked to the tape one last time before sighing. “Loki, I need you to hold him down for me so he doesn’t move too much.” Loki nodded and did as said as Natasha jogged over. “Keep an eye on his pulse Nat.” She nodded as Bruce sighed, pulling out a pocket knife. “Here we go.” He mumbled before cutting at the tape. The wounds were bad and the pain that Clint was put through was worse. The blood that the tape had been stopping came from the wound, Bruce getting to work to patch the wound. 

It took an agonizing hour to fully patch him up, the archer bouncing between being awake and the pain rendering him out cold. He had stayed stable to the shock and joy of Bruce, the man pulling back with a deep breath. “I think we got them all.” Loki and Natasha nodded, both doing a once over to make sure that they didn’t miss anything. 

“That was…” Natasha trailed off, looking down to the unconscious Clint. “That was a lot of blood.”

“We need to get him to the infirmary right away so that we can start on a blood transfusion.” The two nodded, Loki scooping up the archer carefully. The god started walking out of the plaza, carrying Clint back to the Tower as the others kept people calm from the whole situation. ******************************************************************************************* Loki held Clint’s hand, not having moved from his bedside since laying him down earlier that morning. He spoke only to Bruce and Thor, the words the others spoke either not registering to the god or he ignored them completely. Clint hadn’t been awake since the plaza and Loki swore that he wouldn’t leave his side until he woke up, not wanting the archer to be alone. 

It was nearly eleven at night when Loki felt something squeeze his hand, the man desperately looking up to see Clint with his eyes open. Loki sighed in relief, kissing the hand he held with a smile.

“We shop together from now on, understand me Barton?”

“Yes sir.” He sent him a soft smile, squeezing his hand back. “And I think I’m adding duct tape to my first aid kit.”

“Over my dead body Engel.”

(Prompt #60 from @promptsforyourwhumpfic)

[allee-e-writing-blog]

The mission was going as expected, Tony, Natasha, Sam and Bucky distracting and defeating guards while Peter and T’Challa went to get the plans that they needed. The heroes were winning, but fate never smiles for this long without incident. The kid was slipping out the back by where Bucky was when someone shot at them both. Peter used his webs to make a miniature shield, but that would only take them so far when the two were surrounded. 

“Kid, I need you to run.” Bucky said when they were back to back, no one moving just yet.

“But what about you Mr. Barnes?” Peter asked, glancing back to him.

“I’ll get out fine, but you have the plans and need to get them to the others.” Peter looked like he wanted to fight, but sighed, nodding in agreement. 

“Once they get the plans though, I’m coming back to check on you no matter where you are on the battlefield.” 

“Agreed.” Bucky studied the men around him, formulating his plan.

“What’s my que to leave?” Peter asked and Bucky reached into his pocket, throwing something at the ground. With his questioned answered, Peter jumped out of the group as thick smoke filled the air, those left coughing and hacking as it felt the dust was ripping into their lungs. Bucky went to slip from the smog despite his own coughing, but something struck him in his neck and his world started to fade. 

“Got the plans in!” He heard Peter confirm as he hit his knees. “On the way Mr. Barnes; where are you?” He hit the ground, eyes shutting as he heard Peter’s voice in his com one final time. “Mr. Barnes? Mr. Barnes; hang on!” ******************************************************************************************* The next time Bucky woke up was to something hot caressing his skin, something that made him question if he really did pass out in the battlefield or if Steve was touching his cheek. The strike of the heat to his other cheek woke him from his lover’s dream and to reality, the man opening his eyes to glare at who was before him.

He ignored the speech of the ones who took him, sarcastic and witty words falling from his lips before he could stop himself. That’s how he got into the situation; burning coals left under his feet and a crushing weight on top of them to keep him from moving. His voice went raw from crying out in pain, his body in too much agony to do much else. But he refused to give more than a prompt curse word to any question asked, not wanting them to give the people who took him more pleasure than they got from him screaming. 

The room he was in was kept excruciatingly hot, sweat dripping off his form in streams. His state of time was shot, no signs in the room to tell him how much time had passed and the pain made him lose track of how long he had been stuck here. He tried to shift his feet, but that only sent another burst of pain up his spine. He clenched his fists, his nails cutting into his palm with how much force was used. 

The room only seemed to get hotter and he closed his eyes, them only opening when he heard the door open. “Sergeant Barnes.” He glared at the man who spoke. “They call you Bucky now, don’t they?” He didn’t react as the masked man walked over to him, a few other men standing by the door. “Don’t be like that; I need you to tell me what I want to know,” He slammed a bottle on the small metal table that sat by Bucky, the words ‘Lighter Fluid’ in big letters. “Or else things will get much hotter.”

Bucky stayed silent as he looked to his lap, actively trying to avoid looking at the man. Nails dug into his cheeks and dragged his head up, pinching his cheeks. “Bite me.” The New Yorker growled, the man grabbing the bottle. He added more fuel to the fire, Bucky hissing, but that was the most that they got from him.

“Where did you take the plans?” There was a similar exchange - a snarky remark and more fuel, Bucky not responding to any of the questions asked of him. 

“Where is your base?” No response. More fuel.

“Why did you need the plans?” No response. More fuel.

“How many agents are on the case?” No response. More fuel.

“What did you find that led you all to us?” No response. More fuel.

“What is the extent of your relations with the rest of your team? Do you think that they’re going to search for you?” He quirked an eyebrow. “After all you’ve done, how can they trust you?” The man leaned closer, starting to circle the chair while avoiding the coals. “A murderer.” The man laughed bitterly. “You’ve killed so many and now you hope to get their favor after everything?” Bucky took a few deep breaths, the pain making it hard to focus. “Do you think that people can actually care for you? That they could love you?”

Bucky wanted to laugh, but held it in, just staring. While relations with the team was still iffy for some, he knew that they would come for him and that they did care. Above all else, even if no one else came, he knew that someone would. Steve would lay down life and limb to get him out of this - he’s always been like that. Protective of everyone with a moral compass that always led him in the right direction.

“I think we need to let you bake a little longer; maybe it will make you be more compliant with us.” The man hit his face a few times, added more fuel and left, the guards leaving as well. Bucky panted when the door closed, his body shaking as his feet burned. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on something else, something to bring him away from the pain and to something he could enjoy.

His mind drifted to Steve, to the room they shared and the joy that he felt being with him. The safety, the love. He rested his head back the seat, sighing softly. He drifted off to the feeling of an unbearable heat and the phantom feeling of Steve holding his hand, a soft smile on his face despite his situation. ******************************************************************************************* Everything sounded fuzzy, his eyesight covered. He had lost feeling in his feet a long while ago, not even bothering to try to move anything. He’d rather be unaware of his them even being there than face the pain that movement brought. The soldier was sitting as still as a board as the sound of fighting filled his ears.

“Bucky.” He nearly jerked when he heard Steve, nearly moved. But his body screamed at his reflexes and he stayed perfectly still so he didn’t get hurt anymore. “Shit, hang on Bucky.” He could hear Steve gathering things, probably trying to find something to put out the burning coals under his feet. The water on his feet was strange, another burning sensation filling his form when they put out the coals so they weren’t as hot, even making some of them drift away from the organized shape they had been forced into. 

His sight returned to him once Steve pulled off the cover over his eyes, Steve rapidly cutting him free as Bucky adjusted to the light. He was talking rapidly into his com as he worked, calming words whizzing past Bucky’s dazed mind. “Almost done Buck, okay?” The brunette only nodded, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back. While he couldn’t understand a word that Steve said at this point, his voice was always soothing after a mission; something to ground Bucky back to reality.

That he was safe. He was safe with Steve. And that Steve was going nowhere.

Steve kicked away the rest of the coals, looking down to the man. He was pale, sweat on his brow as the temperature in here easily trumped most other places Steve could think of. “Hang on Buck; I got you.” He carefully got Bucky out of the chair, carrying him away from the place he had been held captive for the past few days. The rest of the team was waiting in the main room, the group staring as Steve approached.

“Banner.” Steve spoke soft, Bucky already starting to nod off in Steve’s arms. “His feet were burned to hell and back; got anything we can put on it for now?” The doctor nodded, moving to investigate them while he had the chance.

“On the ship. We should get him there soon, his body seems far too pale for my liking.” The two headed to the ship faster than the others, them ensuring Shield arrived before they would leave scene. “Lay him down over there.” Steve nodded at the command and followed it, Bucky stirring a bit at the new location. He gripped Steve’s arm tightly with his flesh one, confused and startled by the shift in location.

“Easy Bucky, you’re on the ship with Bruce and I.” He tried to calm the panicked soldier, the soldier looking up to Steve a bit calmer. 

“I, sorry.” It was the first words Bucky had spoke in a while if his voice proved anything, the sound a bit raspy from the cried of pain from what he endured. “Got confused and I thought-”

“No need to explain Jerk, I got you, remember?” He sent him a soft smile, Bucky mimicking it before glancing down to Bruce.

“Hi Bucky; how are you feeling right now?” He had a few different jars and meds in his hand, balancing them on a clipboard with some paper on it.

Bucky shrugged. “Tired. Thirsty. Cold believe it or not.” Steve moved to grab him a water bottle, Bruce frowning as he held a thermometer out for Bucky. The man complied, Bruce grabbing a few other vitals before glancing back to the beeping thermometer. 

“102.7. You’re running a fever.” Bruce explained and Bucky nodded, greedily accepting the water that Steve helped him drink. “You’re going to need to stay either in the infirmary with me or in your room with someone, get lots of fluids and try to break the fever. Your feet on the other hand need to be wrapped and will need the next few days till maybe even the end of the week to fully heal.” Bruce handed him a few pills, Bucky taking them as he continued to listen. “You can’t put any weight on them or else you could risk making the burns much worse - and they’re already very bad. The cream will help the healing process, but it isn’t a miracle worker, so don’t push it. I’ll explain to the rest of the team that you and whoever’s going to help you will need the week off.”

“Tell them that the week with us gone will be over before they know it.” Steve said and Bruce nodded, Bucky looking up to him. 

“You’re staying with me?”

“Of course; you hate rules, someone has to enforce them.”

Bucky let out a yawn, the meds making him sleepy. “I don’t hate rules.” He mumbled and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Close your eyes and sleep. I’ll be here whenever you wake up.”

*******************************************************************************************

Steve carried Bucky through the tower, the rest of the team talking quietly behind them. The blond headed for their room, not wanting to get distracted with the others behind him. The door opened automatically, Steve laying Bucky down carefully as the door shut. He gathered clothes to change them both into, quickly getting into his pajamas before walking over to Bucky. 

He moved quickly but carefully, not wanting to move too fast and risk waking up the brunette. They were both in pajamas, Steve tucking in the sleeping man with care. He was cautious putting the blankets over his feet, debating on if he should cover them or not when they were still this badly hurt.

He went with his gut, keeping the bandaged feet in the open air and elevated before gently getting into bed himself. Steve closed his eyes, keeping a gentle arm wrapped around Bucky as he started to drift off. The mission was over and he had his Bucky back. Everything else would fall into place as time ticked on. ******************************************************************************************* The sickness passed quick, full of meds, cuddling and Disney movies. Steve only left the room to get food and more meds, Bucky still unable to get out of bed just yet. Steve had to carry him everywhere, the burns on his feet still not healed enough to put any weight on yet. 

“Morning Buck.” Steve pulled the half-awake man closer to him, Bucky unable to stop the smile on his face. 

“Morning.” He nuzzled against him with a smile. Steve kissed his forehead, double checking to make sure that his fever hadn’t come back.

“How’d you sleep?” 

“Same as yesterday Punk; pretty good.” Steve smiled as he moved down the bed, going to look at his feet. 

“Let me change the bandages real quick Nerd.” Steve said, starting to unwrap the cloth as Bucky reached over to grab the cream and bandages Bruce left with the couple. “The burns are looking much better.” Bucky sat up to see, the once blistering and burned flesh now looking like he got a severe sunburn instead. “Whatever’s in that stuff Bruce gave is a life safer.” Bucky nodded, humming softly when the cool substance in question was spread across his feet again. “Maybe you’ll be able to stand in a few days.” Steve said hopefully, grabbing the small rag that Bucky offered him.

Bucky grabbed the blond’s hand once it was cleaned, the two looking at each other. “Stay with me till then?” Steve pecked his lips gently, a smile on his face when he pulled back.

“I wouldn’t leave your side for the world Buck.”

(Promt #131 from @promptsforyourwhumpfic)

[allee-e-writing-blog]

No one knew how to react. It’s hard to dictate what to do when you stumble upon a slumbering super soldier when you were sneaking into the Avenger’s Tower because your healer’s down. The teens looked between each other before Jo made eye contact with Tanner. He nodded and got Andy from Rowland’s arms, the speedster going to get him to the medical bay while the three left tried to think over their best options.

“Something seems off about this.” Peter whispered and the two nodded.

“Friday, how long has he been here?” Rowland asked the AI softly, noticing that Steve wasn’t waking.

“Nearly two hours sir, the others left the tower and I’ve been unable to contact them.” She explained and Jo moved closer. She placed a hand on his cheek, frowning deeply.

“He’s burning up. What’s his temperature Friday?” She questioned as a rag floated from one side of the kitchen to the other, it soaked in cool water from her magic.

“104.7.” Jo’s eyes widened. 

“Rowland, we need to get him to the infirmary now, and Peter?” The boy jumped at the sound of his own name. “Call Stark, Strange, Banner, whoever you can and tell them that we need someone else down here to help.” Peter nodded, taking out his phone while the other two started to lug the mass of Steve Rogers down the hall. “Who needs weight lifting when you have a sick super soldier?” She joked and Rowland rolled his eyes.

“I’d rather lift a car or two.” She pouted as they made it to the door, Tanner outside it arguing with Friday.

“We’ve been with the team for nearly three months; what do you mean we don’t have clearance to get in here?!” Tanner looked pissed and distressed, Andy getting more pale as the seconds ticked on. The man had taken a few shots during the emergency mission the five went on on their way home from a trip Peter went on with school, it now looking much worse. The injuries he tried to hide during battle were biting back.

“I’m sorry sir, none of your names have a high enough access code to allow you in. Mr. Happy recently enforced this new coding system.” Jo looked up, anger in her eyes.

“So, out of us four who are awake, none of us can get in to get medical help that we need?” The AI buzzed in approval of her words. “Well, at least it makes sense now why I had to teleport us in.” Jo shook her head, looking over the group before her eyes stopped on the youngest of them. “Any luck Peter?”

“No, Mr. Stark has a meeting and must have turned off his phone, Dr. Strange and Dr. Banner aren’t picking up either.” Jo frowned before an idea popped into her head. She grabbed her phone and tossed it to Peter, motioning for the other boys to lay down the sick and injured.

“Call Bucky, he might get here quicker than the others. And if he doesn’t, call Sam. They should have the clearance we need.” Peter nodded, looking a bit panicked as he took off his mask to start making more calls. “Tanner, go run and get me more clean rags, a bowl of cold water, another of warm and see if we have a medical kit lying around.” The man nodded, quickly running off. “Rowland, apply pressure to Andy’s wounds. The bonds I put on are going to be breaking soon; they aren’t made to last long and you know how I am with healing.”

“Yeah; you’re basically a doctor who got their license revoked who has the same radiation poisoning as the Hulk.” Rowland pointed out and her brows knitted together.

“Hey, just cause I can only revive people when angry does not mean…” She paused. “Well, you aren’t fully wrong, but live matters more than jokes right now.” ******************************************************************************************* Peter paced as he heard Jo command Rowland on where to apply the pressure, the sound of a dial tone bound to haunt him at this point. Friday was right, no one had been responding no matter how many times he tried to ca-

“Hello?” Bucky’s voice interrupted Peter’s thoughts and the boy nearly shouted for joy.

“Bucky!” He couldn’t help but call it, a smile on his face before he returned to the reality of his call.

“Peter? Why are you using Jo’s phone? Where is-”

“Andy got shot and Steve’s sick. Happy added clearance codes to get into the infirmary and none of us can get in and no one else has answered my calls and-” In his rambling, he dropped formalities, his fear easily making him forget in favor of getting out all the information.

“Easy kid, Sam and I are on the way.” Peter could hear shuffling on the other side of the phone. “How is everyone doing?” Peter glanced back over to the group on the floor, Tanner dabbing at Steve’s forehead with a damp rag while Jo was investigating Andy’s wounds with Rowland keeping pressure on the other ones.

“I, I can’t fully tell and don’t want to bother them because they’re all doing things.” Peter said and he could hear Bucky nod.

“Sam and I are getting ready to drive over, we’ll be there in-” A long beat sounded from Friday and Jo panicked, knocking aside Rowland’s hands as she started to chant. 

“Gotta go!” Peter yelled, hanging up as he moved to help. Rowland moved to lunge towards his brother, Peter webbing him back so that Jo could focus. “Give her space Rowland! She’s got this; she won’t let him die!” He tried to calm him, having to use more webs to keep him from breaking them.

A bright light shined behind them as Jo finished her spell, the light fading to show Andy without wounds and Jo looking as pale as Steve did. Tanner scrambled to catch her, his eyes still a bit blinded by the light of the spell when he caught her around the shoulders. He looked like a dancer with his pose, his body facing away from the three on the ground as he balanced on one hand and one leg between her and Steve with the other to catch her, his other in the air.

Both Peter and Rowland moved to help, Peter laying Jo down as Rowland clung to his brother. Tanner sighed, looking up to the air again.

“Call Tony. And if he doesn’t pick up, call the people in the meeting he’s in.” Tanner looked down to the group, taking them in. Steve was sick as hell, Peter was scared as hell, Andrew was hurt as hell, Rowland was crying like hell and Jo was weak as hell. “Because I need to talk to him.” ******************************************************************************************* Tony was in the middle of explaining a point for his newest business move when someone’s phone went off, the janitor quickly excusing himself with multiple apologies. Tony had just gotten back into it when the cleaner interrupted him again. “The girl says her name is Friday and she needs to talk to you?” He seemed creeped out that someone called his phone to get to Tony, but held it out to him nonetheless. “She said it was an emergency and to not take no for an answer.” Tony grabbed the phone, glancing to the group.

“Just one moment.” He sent them a charming smile, quickly moving out of the room to figure out why his AI was so desperate to contact him. “Friday, what do you-”

“Open the damn infirmary Stark.” He was quite confused when he heard Tanner instead of Friday when he was expecting the lovely AI instead of an angry twenty year old.

“What do you-”

“Steve’s out cold on the ground sick with something we don’t know of and has for a few hours, Andy just had to be revived and Jo is out cold from the revival and I swear to everything holy Stark, if you do not open this door within the next ten seconds, there will be no one to continue the Stark line.” He threatened.

“Friday, open the doors.” Tony moved his sleeve, watching the scene from his watch instead of just hearing. Tanner picked up Steve as best he could, carrying him in while Rowland took his brother and Peter picked up Jo. “Why did the doors not open?” It took Tanner a few seconds to respond, him getting Steve situated in one of the beds.

“We don’t have clearance apparently. Happy didn’t put us at a proper code to get in here, so Andy died outside the doors and if Jo hadn’t been here…” Tanner trailed off, shaking his head as he started to gather Steve’s vitals. “Bucky and Sam are on their way now, but trust me when I say no one is too happy with the situation.”

“Neither am I - I told Happy I’d handle any system like that to make sure that none of the workers could get into a room without knowing a code for safety reasons. Someone’s been stealing from the infirmary and we wanted to make it stop.” Tony sounded as pissed as Tanner looked. “I’ll be having a long talk with him very soon. Do you kids need me there or are you guys good?” Tony asked and Tanner shook his head. “We’ll be good. And make sure you inform Happy that it’s a good thing you’re talking to him instead of us because we wouldn’t be as nice.” ******************************************************************************************* Sam flew them towards the tower, looking to Bucky. “Are you sure this is our best route?” He asked as the tower got closer.

“They wouldn’t let us in, we need a way in and the magic user’s down.” Bucky held onto Sam’s arm, dead set on this. “Besides, I didn’t climb onto that rocket for the hell of it; I live a life of bad choices and this just happens to be one of them.” Sam rolled his eyes, but went along with it anyway. 

“Ready?” Sam sounded like he had many doubts.

“Do it now before I change my mind!” Bucky called and Sam sighed, throwing Bucky at the window. It shattered and he rolled, moving to rest on a knee as he looked out to Sam. Sam had a big smile on his face, about to talk about what just happened, but Bucky held up a hand. “Save the amazement for later; someone flatlined, remember?” Back to business, the two started for the infirmary. 

“Had to make an entrance, huh?” Tanner called down the hall before they made it to the room. A chair was keeping the doors open, the sound of someone coughing filling the air. Three were on the bed, Peter was sitting beside Jo with a panicked look in his eyes and Rowland was sleeping with his head on the mattress by Andy. “Tony finally opened the door.” He double checked the IV he had on Steve, sighing softly as he looked over to the two. “Sorry for the flatline scare, Andy took a turn for the worse and-”

“It’s alright T,” Sam started, walking over to him. “You don’t need to explain right now, just tell us what to do.” Tanner nodded, scanning the three beds. 

“I need to do a check on Jo and Andy; can one of you grab a blanket for Rowland and the other stay here with Steve?” The duo nodded and they all split, Sam going for the blanket while Bucky stayed with the barely awake Steve.

“Friday, what’s his temperature?” Bucky asked, sitting on the chair beside his bed.

“103.7, it’s been going down since the team found him.” Bucky nodded, grabbing the rag that was left in the bowl of ice water. He dipped it in and gently dabbed at his face, Steve stirring at the contact. 

“James?” He mumbled and Bucky couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m here punk.” He moved so that he was closer to Steve, a smile pulling at the blond’s face.

“I missed you.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “How was the fair?” Bucky arched an eyebrow. 

“What fair?” Steve yawned, looking more delirious than before to Bucky. “What fair Stevie?” 

“The science one.” He mumbled before drifting off, Bucky looking far past concerned and bewildered. Tanner sighed as he jotted down a few notes, making eye contact with the other soldier.

“You guys good over there?” He called and Bucky shook his head.

“I don’t think Steve knows what…” He paused before continuing. “I don’t think he knows what time he’s in.” Tanner frowned.

“He had remembered last time he was awake.” He stood with a slight stumble, but shook it off as he walked over. “When he first woke up, he thought that I was Howard Stark who had let his hair grow long; quite the act to put up when you don’t know the man, but he was out again before he could get some real strength behind his punches.” 

“He punched you?” Sam piped up, looking concerned.

“He thought I was impersonating Howard Stark and kidnapped him; I’d be punching and kicking too if I thought that.” He flipped through a couple pages on a notepad he had, Steve’s name scrawled across the top. “Especially because I never met Howard Stark and probably didn’t impersonate him well. Anyway, he woke up a few minutes before you guys got in and remembered me and where he was.” 

“Could be Aseptic Meningitis, but that doesn’t make sense.” Tanner couldn’t help it; his fist seconds from Doctor Strange’s face, the man panting as he stopped himself in time.

“A warning would be nice Doc.” He straightened out, shaking his head a bit to clear it.

“Avoiding a fist to the face is nice too, but you don’t hear me complaining.” He spoke back as he approached Steve. He grabbed the notebook from Tanner, glancing over the notes he jotted down. “Chills, stomach pain, head and body ache, and fatigue fit Aseptic Meningitis perfectly and mental confusion is another symptom on the drastic side, but with how Steve’s system is, he should get sick to something this… menial? Not the right word, but this shouldn’t be the sickness to take down Steve Rogers unless - Friday, get me a blood sample from the captain and let me know his white blood cell number.”

“Captain Rogers has 2,819 white blood cells in his body.” Stephen frowned at that.

“It should easily be over 5,000.” Tanner said and the trio of adults looked up at him. “What, Andy sometimes rambles in his sleep. Either way,” He said, bringing his attention back to Steve. “His count is way too low, so something is happening that’s wrong. Once Andy wakes up, we should get a better knowledge of it, but that won’t be till morning from how it looks.”

“Then what do we do?” Bucky asked, resting his jacket over Peter’s sleeping form.

“Watch Steve like a hawk. Pray that Andy wakes up earlier than my estimate. Give him fluids, keep his temperature down; we treat it like we would anyone else being sick. While we have to keep a closer eye on his WBC count, it shouldn’t be that hard with more than one set of eyes on him.” Tanner pointed out and they nodded.

“I’m needed back in the sanctorum, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you all from there.” Tanner nodded, shaking Stephen’s hand. 

“Thanks Doc.”

“And get some sleep, you’re looking drained.” ******************************************************************************************* Tanner listened not to Stephen, staying up all night to watch the trio of heroes to make sure that no one got worse. The night went over smoothly, Sam forcing both Tanner and Bucky to eat at some point in the night before they both went back in the room to fret. The moment that Andy woke up, Tanner brought him up to speed and had him heal Steve so they could figure out what happened.

“Someone messed with his cell count through a gas; it took down a lot of them, but the healing should have helped.” He checked over the notes and then Steve, frowning. “And we’ll have to inform Doctor Strange that that wasn’t just Aseptic Meningitis, there was something enhancing the virus to make it that extreme.”

Steve opened his eyes, looking around the faces in confusion as he tried to sit up, but his arm was restrained down. “Why am I strapped to a table?”

“Because even sick, you have one hell of a right hook.” Tanner said, moving to untie him from the makeshift restraint. “I had others to look after and didn’t want to have someone restrain you all night.” Bucky explained what happened to Steve as Andy looked over Tanner. 

“Did you even sleep last night?” Andy asked and Tanner smiled.

“Course I did Row, I’m not Jo-Jo.”

“And I’m not Rowland.” Tanner looked confused for a second before mumbling a curse, rubbing at his eyes. “And you’re going to sleep. Steve’s healed and Jo just needs sleep, just like you do.” He led the speedster to one of the free beds, making him lay down. “It’s time for you to go to bed Dr. Lee; we’ve got this.”

Tanner wanted to fight, but knew he had no chance. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the blanket. “Sleep well, sweet prince.”

Tanner laughed at Andy’s words, cracking open an eye. “If I wasn’t this tired, I’d beat you up And-ratio.” He joked.

“Shut up and sleep Prince Tan-let.”

[allee-e-writing-blog]

the suffering never ends

[allee-e-writing-blog]

Writing Traumatic Injuries References

So, pretty frequently writers screw up when they write about injuries. People are clonked over the head, pass out for hours, and wake up with just a headache… Eragon breaks his wrist and it’s just fine within days… Wounds heal with nary a scar, ever…

I’m aiming to fix that.

Here are over 100 links covering just about every facet of traumatic injuries (physical, psychological, long-term), focusing mainly on burns, concussions, fractures, and lacerations. Now you can beat up your characters properly!

General resources

WebMD

Mayo Clinic first aid

Mayo Clinic diseases

First Aid

PubMed: The source for biomedical literature

Diagrams: Veins (towards heart), arteries (away from heart) bones, nervous system, brain

Burns

General overview: Includes degrees

Burn severity: Including how to estimate body area affected

Burn treatment: 1st, 2nd, and 3rd degrees

Smoke inhalation

Smoke inhalation treatment

Chemical burns

Hot tar burns

Sunburns

Incisions and Lacerations

Essentials of skin laceration repair (including stitching techniques)

When to stitch (Journal article—Doctors apparently usually go by experience on this)

More about when to stitch (Simple guide for moms)

Basic wound treatment

Incision vs. laceration: Most of the time (including in medical literature) they’re used synonymously, but eh.

Types of lacerations: Page has links to some particularly graphic images—beware!

How to stop bleeding: 1, 2, 3

Puncture wounds: Including a bit about what sort of wounds are most likely to become infected

More about puncture wounds

Wound assessment: A huge amount of information, including what the color of the flesh indicates, different kinds of things that ooze from a wound, and so much more.

Home treatment of gunshot wound, also basics More about gunshot wounds, including medical procedures

Tourniquet use: Controversy around it, latest research

Location pain chart: Originally intended for tattoo pain, but pretty accurate for cuts

General note: Deeper=more serious. Elevate wounded limb so that gravity draws blood towards heart. Scalp wounds also bleed a lot but tend to be superficial. If it’s dirty, risk infection. If it hits the digestive system and you don’t die immediately, infection’ll probably kill you. Don’t forget the possibility of tetanus! If a wound is positioned such that movement would cause the wound to gape open (i.e. horizontally across the knee) it’s harder to keep it closed and may take longer for it to heal.

Broken bones

Types of fractures

Setting a broken bone when no doctor is available

Healing time of common fractures

Broken wrists

Broken ankles/feet

Fractured vertebrae: Neck (1, 2), back

Types of casts

Splints

Fracture complications

Broken noses

Broken digits: Fingers and toes

General notes: If it’s a compound fracture (bone poking through) good luck fixing it on your own. If the bone is in multiple pieces, surgery is necessary to fix it—probably can’t reduce (“set”) it from the outside. Older people heal more slowly. It’s possible for bones to “heal” crooked and cause long-term problems and joint pain. Consider damage to nearby nerves, muscle, and blood vessels.

Concussions

General overview

Types of concussions 1, 2

Concussion complications

Mild Brain Injuries: The next step up from most severe type of concussion, Grade 3

Post-concussion syndrome

Second impact syndrome: When a second blow delivered before recovering from the initial concussion has catastrophic effects. Apparently rare.

Recovering from a concussion

Symptoms: Scroll about halfway down the page for the most severe symptoms

Whiplash

General notes: If you pass out, even for a few seconds, it’s serious. If you have multiple concussions over a lifetime, they will be progressively more serious. Symptoms can linger for a long time.

Character reaction:

Shock (general)

Physical shock: 1, 2

Fight-or-flight response: 1, 2

Long-term emotional trauma: 1 (Includes symptoms), 2

First aid for emotional trauma

Treatment (drugs)

WebMD painkiller guide

Treatment (herbs)

1, 2, 3, 4

Miscellany

Snake bites: No, you don’t suck the venom out or apply tourniquettes

Frostbite

Frostbite treatment

Severe frostbite treatment

When frostbite sets in: A handy chart for how long your characters have outside at various temperatures and wind speeds before they get frostbitten

First aid myths: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Includes the ones about buttering burns and putting snow on frostbite.

Poisons: Why inducing vomiting is a bad idea

Poisonous plants

Dislocations: Symptoms 1, 2; treatment. General notes: Repeated dislocations of same joint may lead to permanent tissue damage and may cause or be symptomatic of weakened ligaments. Docs recommend against trying to reduce (put back) dislocated joint on your own, though information about how to do it is easily found online.

Muscular strains

Joint sprain

Resuscitation after near-drowning: 1, 2

Current CPR practices: We don’t do mouth-to-mouth anymore.

The DSM IV, for all your mental illness needs.

Electrical shock

Human response to electrical shock: Includes handy-dandy voltage chart

Length of contact needed at different voltages to cause injury

Evaluation protocol for electric shock injury

Neurological complications

Electrical and lightning injury

Cardiac complications

Delayed effects and a good general summary

Acquired savant syndrome: Brain injuries (including a lightning strike) triggering development of amazing artistic and other abilities

Please don’t repost! You can find the original document (also created by me) here.

[allee-e-writing-blog]

Clint doesn’t try to get hurt. Like, he does try to; it just happens. The team was small like the mission. It was just to clear out a few buildings to secure a weapon - it shouldn’t have been this hard. He had been getting Peter out of the way of a barrage of bullets when something grabbed him and pulled him back towards the villains. He took more hits than he wanted to, four bullets piercing his body. He hid a floor under the others at this point, using scraps of his uniform to try to cover as many wounds as he could as he heard the sound of fighting.

“Peter, check in?” He said into the com, praying the kid responded.

“I’m here Mr. B, thank you!” The kid said and Clint sighed softly, moving to hold the wound on his side in pain. Sighing was painful.

“I thought I told you to stay by me kid?” Tony asked and Clint grunted, realizing he was wrong. Breathing was painful, not just sighing.

“I did! You flew away from me without saying anything!” Peter argued back and Clint froze, hearing someone walking on the level he was. He slipped his bow over his shoulders, clenching his fists.

“You’re supposed to watch your surroundings Spidey.” Steve pointed out as Clint pounced on the man who they were tracking. He wasn’t supposed to be here; Taskmaster was supposed to be in a completely different base from what intel told them. The villain threw Clint off of him, the man hissing as he slammed into the wall before he moved to his knees, readying himself for the oncoming attack. 

Taskmaster knew his next move before he did and Clint had to be ready for that, knowing that Taskmaster was used to the archer side to him. Not the Ronin one. He grabbed an arrow, playing into the game as the others kept talking among each other, the battle between him and Taskmaster too intense to even attempt talking to the others.

Clint was getting battered as he waited for his chance, trying his hardest to defend himself while not revealing the trick up his sleeve until Taskmaster was a bit more beaten up. The man had pulled out his knives, a few slashes now joining in on Clint’s injuries. It was a bit of a bloodbath, Taskmaster having taken a few lucky shots from the archer during the battle. The dusty room came to life, the dust sticking to them and their open wounds, both battling against the pain.

Clint finally saw his opportunity to strike when Taskmaster was flipping away from him, knowing that Taskmaster was expecting an attack from above, not below. Clint charged forward and decked him, the villain hitting the ground with more force than he anticipated. He broke through the floor and Clint followed, not letting up on his attacks despite the pain. Pain meant nothing if he could cap this win while the others talked about what they were going to have to eat when they got back.

“What do you think Clint?” Tony asked him the same time the man decked Taskmaster across the face, the man not getting up.

Clint ignored him, grabbing the radio on Taskmaster. “Unless you want me to come after your asses too, surrender. You’re leader is already down and whoever’s left is next.” He threatened, hoping that it would work and that the radio didn’t pick up the shaking in his voice.

Up with the others, they looked at each other in confusion over the fact that the henchmen they fought were surrendering without being told to do so, the group of heroes taking it with pride. It took about five minutes to get them all restrained, but there was a sense of pride for them all when they did. Until Natasha spoke up.

“Clint, where are you?” She asked into her com, the group looking around at one another. No one had seen him since he helped Peter and no one even thought of asking about his location.

“I think I may need pick up Nat, I can’t feel my legs. And when you get me, make sure someone has restraints for Taskmaster.” He wiped at his face, blood on the side of his pointer finger from the blood. They had grappled for a while, Clint covered in wounds and marks that would bruise over before they felt better, cuts that were adding to his gunshot wounds. A typical Tuesday for Clint Barton.

“Taskmaster? He wasn’t supposed to be here!” Natasha translated the Russian while the others struggled, not understanding the slurred speech and foreign language. Clint didn’t respond and Nat’s blood ran cold, the woman running through the house. “Clint, where are you?” She asked, yet he said nothing. “Damn. Boys, do a full sweep! Clint was fighting Taskmaster and now isn’t responding.” That kickstarted everyone, the team splitting to find the archer. 

T’Challa found him, shot four times and stabbed or slashed too many times to count. Taskmaster looked beat to hell, the man still not awake from the fight. “I found him; third floor, second room on the north side. And we’re going to need medical.” ******************************************************************************************* Clint woke up in pain and confusion, pulling off the oxygen mask he had on as he looked around. The infirmary was quiet and empty, him lying alone in the bed. Well, was laying. He sat up despite the pain, shaking it off as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. He was left in his boxers, bandages covering his midsection, left leg and both his arms and maybe there was some around his head, but he didn’t care right now.

He wanted to find someone to tell him what the hell happened because his memory was flopping on everything but his fight and a whole lotta pain. Clint was able to stand despite the roaring pain, taking a few steps before a few of the machines beeped at him. He looked down at his arm, an IV in his arm with a monitor on it. He pulled them out, the sound of a flatline filling the air. He ignored it, heading to the door.

He wasn’t the only one. 

“Why the hell are you out of bed? You’re hurt, get back in there old man.” Natasha tried to force him back in bed, but he didn’t move.

“What happened? Why was all of that hooked up to me?” Clint asked and she raised an eyebrow.

“Do you not remember the fight?” She asked and he laughed, cringing a bit at the pain. “No, I remember that. And getting shot too - a thing I never hoped of having to suffer again. I just don’t know why all that was hooked onto me.” He said, motioning to all the machines around the bed that he was on.

“We thought you were going to die Clint; your injuries were bad.” She pointed out.

“They weren’t that bad.” His body laughed at him, his knees buckling from the force of how much humor his body felt. Natasha had his arm over her shoulder and her’s around his waist before he could blink, the woman raising an eyebrow.

“I think it was.” She said with a smirk. He mumbled under his breath about being tired as she dragged him back to bed. She turned off the heart rate monitor as Bruce came running in, Steve and Tony behind him. “He’s alright boys, just too stubborn to stay in bed.” She informed them and relief filled them all.

“We had been having lunch when Bruce got the page from the machine.” Steve explained between panting and Nat nodded.

“God I need to workout.” Tony mumbled as he struggled to catch his breath. When trying to keep up with a super soldier, even being Iron Man isn’t enough fitness. “How ya feeling Katniss?” Tony asked and Clint shrugged.

“Like I got shot four times.” He stated and Nat snorted. 

“Go back to bed Rambo, you’re too weak for big kid talk right now.” She tucked him in and he couldn’t help his smirk.

“I’ll be back.” She moved the blanket over his face at his bad impersonation, the man cackling with a groan at his self-induced action. (Prompt from @promptsforyourwhumpfic #114)

[allee-e-writing-blog]

Another One-Shot cause I have no life

“No, no, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.” Tanner clenched his fist at the words, never expecting to hear words like that when it revolved around Jo. She refused to look up, her shoulders hunched together as her form quaked. Whatever this mad man was doing to her, she was seeing things that was breaking her and Tanner would break him for that. Nightmare laughed after his words, the girl gasping and jumping at the sound. “Oh, how precious!” He teased and Tanner pulled at his restraints, Nightmare remembering that there was more than one person he took.

“Oh yes,” He turned as he spoke, “You.” He walked over to Tanner, tipping his head back by his chin. The speedster growled and Nightmare bit back a laugh. “Aren’t you adorable! Just like she was before I turned her into that.” He thumbed back to the girl, her panic much more noticable now. Her shaking was worse, her breathing getting a bit labored. “But you all end up the same, just you w-” Something exploded upstairs and Jo screamed, Tanner looking over to her instead of at what he assumed was his rescue. 

Nightmare growled and went to go investigate, Tanner quickly moving his chair closer to Jo when their captor was far enough away. Using his tongue, he pushed the gag out of his mouth, taking in a few clear breaths. “Jo? Jo, I’m right here; it’s all a nightmare, I promise.” He rambled, trying to figure out a way to get through to the girl. She was openly sobbing while still asleep, a night terror in every form of the words. Tanner pulled at the restraints on his hands again, ignoring the pain as he tried to pull the metal shackles off the metal chair.

An idea popped into his head that would hurt, but probably get him out. He sighed softly before starting to push his arms against the sides of the chair, grunting as pain started up in the limbs. Tanner pushed on though, shoving the pain to the side so he can get Jo and himself out of the situation. The chair creaked as he kept pushing, feeling blood dripping down his hands from the layers of skin his movements took off. Soon enough, the pushing against the arms broke them off so he could freely use his hands. 

He stood, pulling his legs from the chair with some struggle, but not how much he faced with his arms. Tanner moved over to the table where Nightmare had a few tools by the wall, working the shackles and chair arms off him as he walked back over. He undid the shackles on Jo, the girl collapsing forward against him once he finished up with her arms. He grabbed her hands as he knelt in front of her, gently letting her head lean back against the chair.

“Jo, you need to wake up.” He squeezed her hands, moving them to try to wake her. “Rowland made pancakes?” He tried to wake her up like he did every morning, but it still didn’t work. “Code 18.” He spoke the words before he truly thought it over, but it worked. At the Code’s call, her eyes opened and she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “Jo!” He saw more than surprised that it actually worked, making a swift recovery of his shock. “Jo, I need you here wi-” He cut himself off when he saw her eyes, them open, but flooded purple.

She was having a night terror.

He sped over to the table of their stuff, quickly grabbing his communicator before running back.

“Strange, who is this guy?”

Steve called, the sounds of fighting calling over the coms. “It sounds like you two know each other.”

“Calls himself Nightmare. Can manipulate emotions and dreams, feeds off fear. Not the nicest man to meet.”

Stephen informed the others and Tanner sucked in a breath.

“She really is in a night terror…” He looked back to the girl to see her curling in on himself. “Jo, I really need you to wake up and come back to me; this is all a nightmare, whatever you’re seeing is not real.” He kept his voice level despite his fear, knowing that he couldn’t do anything more but wait it out.

“Anyone get in contact with T and Jo?”

Rowland called into the com and Tanner quickly responded.

“Code 31, code 31; do not come in, I repeat, do not come in.” He glanced to the door that Nightmare left out of before looking back to Jo.

“Code what?”

Tony asked and Andy quickly explained.

“We have a set of codes for emergencies. Code 31 is a gas in the air; we can’t go down till we get an all clear.”

“Code calls? Really?”

Tony sounded like he was going to keep teasing, but Rowland interrupted.

“We know that our team members can handle themselves in set situations and like to keep informed about what’s happening. They can solve the situation and then we can go in to help with clean up. Because that’s how organization works.”

He snickered a bit at that, keeping a close watch on Jo. She was still, had been for the past couple minutes and Tanner was taking his chance to try to wake her.

“Jo? Jo, you need to wake up.” He gently squeezed her hand and she shot up, blinking rapidly as she tried to suck in a breath. “Follow my breathing, it’s okay.” Her hands shook in his own as she tried to focus on breathing, but it was more of a quest than she expected. Tanner quickly pressed a hand to his com. “I need Barnes.” He said softly, only to be met with confusion.

“I thought you said there was a gas in the air; why would you risk him going in?”

Tony asked and Tanner closed his eyes.

“She’s having a panic attack and I need help.” He spoke it in Russian, knowing that not all out there could understand the language. “I don’t know how to calm her down and I don’t want to panic myself and make it worse.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Tanner relaxed a bit at Bucky’s words, glancing to the door. Jo jumped when it opened, Bucky walking in slowly.

“I trust my team’s decisions Stark, do you?”

The rest of Rowland’s words left Tanner’s ear as he pulled out his com, Bucky already starting to calm her down. He had his vest slipped off, no traces of a weapon on him as he took one step at a time closer to her; ensuring to get a constant reassurance from Jo at each movement. “You’re having a panic attack Jo; you’re going to be alright. I just need you to keep taking deep breaths for me, okay?” He knelt in front of her, his eyes never breaking contact with her. She complied, still clutching onto Tanner’s right hand as tight as she could as she obeyed. ******************************************************************************************* It took nearly twenty minutes of deep breaths, panicky explanations and an inability to feel his own hand, but Jo was out of the attack and calmed. She rested against his shoulder, sleeping peacefully as he and Bucky had a bit of a staring contest.

“An explanation of some sort would be nice.” 

Tanner sighed and nodded, explaining about what Nightmare did after abducting the two from their shift on watch. “And then she went into a night terror and I… I hadn’t realized it and called a code 18 and-”

“Code 18? We’re not cool enough for codes; what does that mean?” Bucky asked, moving to look at Tanner’s hands. 

“It basically translates to ‘If you don’t do something within the next few seconds, someone’s going to die.’” Bucky looked up at him and blinked, the scrapes on his hands momentarily forgotten. “As you can tell, that one was made by Clint.” Bucky shook his head a bit before going back to the injuries. “After that, I got her awake, the panic attack happened and, yeah.” He took a deep breath. “That’s about it.”

“And what about your hands? These look bad; kinda deep in some parts.” Tanner hissed a bit when Bucky moved his wrist a certain way, the pain finally hitting Tanner. “Sorry.” He mumbled and the speedster shook his head.

“I had to get out of the restraints on my chair and they blocked my powers, so I resorted to brute force. It sucked, but I had to.” Bucky nodded at his words as he looked down to Jo.

“Code 31 clear?” Tanner smiled a bit as he scooped up the sleeping woman carefully. 

“Code 31 clear.”

[allee-e-writing-blog]

First One-Shot

“If you’re going to die, at least do it quieter.” They were the wrong words to say to Jo as she takes things far too literally and personally. Tony had said it out of anger, the two in a constant state of clashing from the moment they met. They both liked control and neither wanted to give it up, but Tony was regretting the snarky comment now.

“Sir?” Tony looked up from his work at the call of Friday, raising an eyebrow. “Jo’s passed out in the kitchen.” He dropped the plan for his newest tweaked suit, running for the kitchen.

“What do you mean passed out? Is she alright? Did something attack her?” Tony asked as he opted for the stairs. While the elevator was fast, it was nowhere near the proper floor to handle getting him to the unconscious woman as fast as he needed to.

“She was attacked earlier sir, she tried to tell you, but you didn’t respond well.” Friday informed him.

“She,” He paused, trying to think back to what he had said. “What did I say to her?”

“If you’re going to die, at least do it quieter.” The words spat back out at him hurt, but it hurt worse in his own tone. He hadn’t thought the wound was that serious; hell, he wasn’t even supposed to have her out of tower from what her team said, but he needed to stop Frostbite from escaping and she was on hand.

“She got blasted by him into that wall Tony, she isn’t made of iron.” The AI chided and he sighed as he opened the door to the kitchen. Jo was on the ground with her eyes closed, looking quite peaceful despite the situation she was in. A broken cup of hot tea was beside her, Tony quickly moving her to save her from any more burns she may have gotten from the scolding liquid. He placed a hand over her forehead, frowning at the temperature he felt.

“Friday, give me a reading of her temperature.” He started to pick her up, the girl much lighter than he expected her to be.

“97.1 sir.” Tony’s frown only worsened like his concern, the man making a beeline for the infirmary.

“How long till her team comes back again?” He glanced down to the sorceress as he listened to the rambling of the AI, her calculations pointing to a few days at most. “Well kid, seems I’m gonna be Nurse Tony for a little while, huh?” He laid her in the bed, going over to the supplies that Bruce had organized. He grabbed an IV, using that to get her the proper fluids she needed. He looked down to her with a sigh with her situated, grabbing a few blankets to cover in. He dragged a chair to be by her bedside, sitting beside her. “It shouldn’t be that bad, I mean, it was just a little cold, right?”

*******************************************************************************************

It was bad.

It was very bad.

Despite the constant care and checking in on her every ten minutes or so, Jo’s temperature continued to reduce and Tony was even more worried now. He definitely did not want to call her team for help and Clint was out of the picture unless he wanted to watch his back for the next few weeks for letting his daughter get this hurt - he had no idea who else to turn to. He called up his emergency, hoping that he would actually respond.

“Tony?” He looked over to the door to Doctor Stephen Strange, unable to help the slight smile that came to his face at the prospect of an actual doctor being there. “You called?”

“Yeah, Jo’s sick and it’s only getting worse.” He turned his eyes back to the girl, Stephen easily crossing the room to check on the girl. He felt at her forehead, mumbling a few technical terms under his breath before glancing back to Tony.

“I can tell she’s been around some cold temperatures; how long was she exposed to them?” Stephen asked and Tony blinked, replaying the fight in his head. She had went in after him, but that was only because Frostbite froze him in place and his heaters hadn’t melted the ice yet. She got blasted by him a few times, but nothing too extreme.

“Maybe ten minutes at the most?” Tony posed it more of a question and Stephen nodded, looking over the girl once more.

“I need you to get me as many blankets as you can and to have Friday start to increase the temperature in the room.” He said as his cloak moved to help cover the girl.

“Why?” Tony asked, already on his feet to get what was requested of him.

“I think she has hypothermia.”

*******************************************************************************************

“What are you doing now?” Tony was seated further from her at this point, Stephen in his element of doctorhood. The wizard had put something on the bag of blood he was putting back into Jo’s body after taking it out, the millionaire watching the whole thing puzzled.

“Well Mr. Stark,” Stephen started with his name to ensure his attention, glancing back to him as he kept working. “I’m heating up the blood within her system so that it could help return her temperature to normal. Her temperature was far too low and her healing abilities barely kept her together.”

“It, it was that bad?” Tony couldn’t help the slight stutter in his tone, Stephen just nodding.

“She doesn’t do well in cold extremes Tony, but she’ll be fine. I’ve gotten her temperature a lot higher, as long as you keep the oxygen mask on her and keep a very close eye on her, she’ll return to normal before you know it.” Stephen pointed out as he went to go wash his hands.

“You aren’t leaving me, are you?” Tony asked faster than he wanted to, Stephen smiling to himself as he dried his hands.

“What? You unable to keep an eye on a teenage girl?” He turned to keep teasing him, his smile falling at the guilty look on Tony’s face. “Tony, she’s going to be okay.” He quickly moved over to him, a bit startled at seeing him look so upset about the whole thing. “You didn’t know how bad it would affect her, you can’t predict the future.”

“What if it had been any of the others that I was so careless with?” Stephen went to speak, but Tony continued. “What if it had been Peter? If he was in as bad a shape as she was, I couldn’t forgive myself for being so careless. I said things to her I shouldn’t have and she didn’t tell me because I was stupid and told her that if she’s going to die, at least do it quieter.” Stephen closed his eyes as Tony continued his worried ramble. “I hadn’t meant it seriously, I thought she was just goofing around and was faking a cough and the chills because the guy we fought was related to ice. I…” He trailed off, looking over to her. “I messed up big time and I don’t know what I would do if it was any worse.”

“Probably cry in a corner and think of even worse what-if scenarios if your past couple minutes say anything.” Jo spoke from the bed, making both men jump. Stephen went into doctor mode, checking over her temperature and her motor functions while Tony took a well-needed sigh of relief.

“Her temperature is 96.9 and rising sir.” Friday informed Stephen and he nodded.

“Within the next hour, her temperature should level out and she should recover just fine.” Stephen looked over to Tony who just numbly accepted the information.

“I think I died a little loudly with all the attention I got, huh?” She joked and Stephen rolled his eyes.

“What happened out there?” Stephen asked and she explained about a blast of ice she had shot at her.

“It like, froze over my magical system. I could move and talk normally, but the ice shut down every other aspect of me and made my healing factor much weaker, but that always happens when I exert myself too much.” She was cross legged, the oxygen mask barely remembered as her temperature was near normal. “I didn’t think it was that bad, that’s why I was just going to get some tea and stay under the blankets and all that. It was a lot worse than I thought it was and frankly, I’m glad Tony called you; I was getting a bit worried there.”

Stephen nodded and ruffled her hair as Tony approached. “I’m sorry about my comment Jo, I thought that you were joking and-”

“And if I wasn’t actually dying, I would have laughed my ass off Tony. I’m not one to complain; the boys and Clint can second that. Even if you did pry, I wouldn’t have said cause it’s not who I am. It’s not your fault; I’m not angry at you or your comment so don’t be angry at yourself.” He smiled a bit at her words, nodding. “Now, if you aren’t done sulking, can you do it quieter?”

P.S - I also don’t know how this is formatted on computer vs mobile, so I’m sorry if this looks funny or the keep reading thing doesn’t work