#hiding an injury

[whumpster-dumpster]

Whumpees who are each other's caretaker, both hiding an illness/injury to take care of the other because they're both stupidly self sacrificial 😅

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Dick had finally made it back to his apartment after a long night. One of the criminals he was fighting had distracted him long enough that two others had managed to jump him and break his arm. He was home now though, and he could set it.

Except he couldn't, because there was a little white haired girl rifling through his kitchen. Maybe he could convince her to leave without her noticing his arm.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1292

Whumptober #24: Neglect

"And just when were you going to tell me about your [injury/illness}? Before or after you collapsed in the hallway?"

"I forgot."

"You forgot?"

"I forgot."

[whumperofworlds]

Everybody gangsta till someone collapses, and it turns out they're hiding an infected wound.

[jasmines-library]

Tried and True

WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY FOUR: Prompt - Hiding an injury.

Fandom: Batfam/DC/Young Justice

Summary: During a fight with Bane you get critically injured but leave it hidden from your brothers. When they find out, it's a race against time to get you back to the safety of the manor. Warnings: Bullet wound, blood loss, near death experience, surgery, cursing. Word count: 2.8k Note: I'm super excited about this one. That's all i'm gonna say :)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Bane fired three shots down the alleyway. They ricocheted off the bricks, clattering to the ground with a metallic ping. Dick Grayson hid crouched behind the lip of a building overlooking the alleyway, his mask pulled tight over his face. He watched with cautious eyes, surveying the villain before him. You were hunched over on the opposite side of the street dual daggers pressed firmly into the palm of your clammy hands. Damian and Jason lingered nearby, Tim opted to survey with his older brother. He had his bo staff hooked under his arm, ready to draw back and swing at any second. 

“I know you’re out there little birdies.” Bane sung, drawing out his steps as he paced the length of the alley. “Why don’t you come out for a little chat?”

He fired another round of bullets, this time up into the sky. Your little brother cast a look at you from your left, you held out a warning hand.

“Nightwing?” You asked into the coms quietly, careful not to draw unwanted attention. Even though Bane was outnumbered 5-1, he was still extremely powerful and if he caught one of you off guard, you would be in some deep shit. 

“We need to wait until he gets to the end of the alley. There’s a fork. We can flank him from both sides.”

The five of you watched intently as he walked, monotonously slow. When he was a mere few steps away from the end of the alley, Nightwing gave the signal and the five of you sprang into action, disguised and protected by the thick plating of your vigilante suits each specified to fit your needs. 

Landing roughly on your feet, you jumped from the building, reading your daggers in front of you. Your brothers formed a circle besides you, trapping bane between the three exits. He grinned manically.

“Finally! I thought I was going to miss out on all the fun.” 

He hoisted his gun up onto his shoulder and eyed the five of you up. The look on his face was mad; cynical. His eyes glistened beneath his mask as they settled on Robin. He fired, releasing a fresh wave of bullets, but the youngest was small and quick enough to slip away, behind a crate. 

With his back turned, Red Robin took his chance to make a move on Bane. He swung his staff in an arc, swiping at the giant's feet in an attempt to knock him to the ground. He wobbled, but spun around and knocked him out of the way, sending him flying into a nearby pile of junk.

“Red!?” You called out through the coms.

There was static as he shuffled around, coughing slightly as he tried to recover from having the wind knocked out from him. “All good.”

You moved next, Robin at your side. Using the walls, you propelled yourself towards Bane, trying to swing your dagger and lodge it anywhere on his exposed chest, only to have to skid across the floor as he swung his arm out to hit you. Although you weren’t successful, Robin had managed to get in a well placed slice along Bane’s torso. He had been aiming for the thick tubes which pumped him full of venom, but he wasn’t so successful. 

The five of you went many rounds with Bane, swinging, slicing and dodging as you tried to get the upper hand on the giant man. Though despite being outnumbered, he had still managed to get his own in on the five vigilanties. Red Hood was suffering a twisted ankle, and Robin had a trickle of blood running down the side of his temple where Bane had managed to strike him.

“Raven!” Nightwing hollered “Flank left.”

You retreated back round the alley with your eldest brother, twisting and navigating in the dinginess to flank him from his other side. When you returned, he had Tim pinned up against a wall, gasping for air and flailing, his feet struggling to scrape against the floor. You picked up your pace, feet slapping against the concrete. You swung, leaping high into the air and bringing your daggers down in a large sweeping motion, it lodged itself in one of Bane’s tubes, staunching the flow of venom pumping into his veins. You rolled across the ground and onto your feet, skidding against the asphalt as you dodged another swing that caught Robin instead. Nightwing was suddenly flanking from Bane’s otherside, cutting off the rest of the venom’s flow. Pulling Robin to his feet, he raised his katana.

With a signal from your brother cracking out over the coms, you gripped your daggers tighter, shifting them into a more comfortable grip in front of you. The humming of Dicks escrima sticks filled the alley. There was a beat, then you all charged, using bane’s weakness to your advantage. He took a large slice across his abdomen and a shock to his body. He roared, releasing a round of bullets into the brick. Dropping like a sack of flour the five of you pressed your body to the ground, trying to dodge the lethal pieces of metal he flung your way. And that was when you felt it, a raw indescribable pain that radiated across your body above your right hip. You stifled a cry, biting your lip beneath the cover of your mask. Your breath shuddered as you rose, trying to ignore the dark red patch that bloomed across the front of your suit. You readied your daggers, trying to conceal the wound with your arm. You were hoping that the cover of the darkness would help disguise it from your brothers. 

From his place on the ground, Jason fired at bane, distracting him from Tim, who swung his bo staff again at his feet, this time bringing him to the ground. Stepping forwards,you pressed your dagger to his neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to get the message across. He howled and grunted as Nightwing and Red Hood made quick work of securing him with rope they had stored on their suits, then delivering a quick blow to his head to render the giant unconscious. 

Nightwing took a step back and sighed, dropping his twin fighting sticks to the ground. “Is everyone ok?”

There was a chortle of agreement between the comms. You sheathed your daggers in the hosters at your hip, groaning as your fingers brushed against the pulsating wound. 

“Call B, tell him we have Bane.”

“Copy.” You said, flicking through the channels on the comms to call your father. He answered gruffly, signifying that he would be on his way on his way over as soon as he could. You heard the rumble of the batmobile in the background. 

“B’s on his way.” You told your brothers, changing the coms back. “He’ll be here soon.”

You glanced down at your stomach, still oozing blood, crossing his arms in front of you, trying to hide the growing patch and keep some pressure on it. You could feel the warm, stickiness against your skin clinging to the fabric of your suit. You couldn’t feel the exit wound, piercing the back of your flesh. Just the thought of the bullet still lodged inside of you made the pain worsen tenfold. You just had to hope that you would get back to the manor in time to stitch yourself up. 

~~~

Left, Right. Left, Right.

You had never been more glad to see the silhouette of the wayne manor, illuminated by the lights from the many windows that had been left on whilst you were out on patrol. You were trudging back slowly with your brothers after finishing up on patrol and ensuring that The Bat had bane secured and was taking him to Arkham. Your steps had grown sluggish, your vision doubled and your breaths uneven as you tried to keep up pace with your brothers, only to end up falling behind anyway. Your whole body ached, but nothing compared to the stabbing pain near your hip. You pulled your hand away from where you had been discreetly keeping pressure on it. Your head spun as you took in the sight of the blood dousing your hands. 

Left, Right…

Not much further now. You told yourself as you forced your body to keep pressing forwards. Home was so close but felt so so far away. You made your shaky legs push on, but with your hazy vision you swayed on your feet. 

Dick turned around, noticing your absence besides him. 

“Raven?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. His panicked tone alerted the rest of the boys. 

You were leaning on a nearby fence, trying to regain your composure.

“I- I’m fine. I just need-” 

Left…

Your body gave out beneath you as you tried to push yourself away from the wall, you were swallowed by a blinding pain; hot and inflamed as you collapsed in on yourself. Jason, the closest to you, rushed forwards before your body could collide with the hard asphalt. He laid you down tenderly so that your head was lying down on his lap. Dick was by your side patting down your body for the hidden injury, followed quickly by the other two.“Raven?” Damien stared at you with wide eyes. 

“Shit.” Dick cursed when his hand skimmed the tear in your suit, pulling it back with his fingers coaxed in your blood. 

You cried out in pain, eyes flying wide. 

Damien gripped your hand tightly, wincing at your pained expression when Jason hastily tore your mask away. He wiped away the tears which stained your cheeks. 

“AH!” Your face twisted when Dick ripped apart the fabric of your suit to get a better look at the wound; circular and ugly, only around the size of a penny, but it was already an angry shade of scarlet and was leaking more blood than you though you had in your body. The fabric which had matted with your blood tugged at your skin. You squeezed Damian’s hand tightly.

“R, what happened?” 

“...Shot.” You forced out. 

Jason reached around the back of your suit searching for an exit wound then cursing loudly when he failed to find one. “It’s still in there.”

Dick cursed. “Okay. Tim?”

The boy looked up meekly. 

“Grab the emergency pack, we’ll need tweezers, bandages. Something for the pain.”

“On it.”

“Damien? Call Alfred, tell him we need help, stat.”

Hesitantly, the Wayne let go of your hands and scrambled to get his phone. Tim was rushing back over with the supplies. 

“Y/N? This is going to hurt okay?”

You nodded feebly, head lolling around in Jason’s lap. 

“Hood, keep her awake.”

Jason took your head in his hands and angled it up to face him. Your eyes were fluttering closed.

“Hey, look at me, keep ‘em open kid.”

Your eyes opened in fraction as you listened to your older brother's words, though you were in a pained daze, only registering the pain in your side.

They would never forget the inhuman scream that pushed its way past your lips as Dick dig the tweezers into the wound. The pain was indescribable as your fingers clawed against the ground. You writhed in Jason’s hold, squirming away from the onslaught of pain. Dick cringed. 

“Tim, keep her still.”

His hands were like cold vices on your arms as he pinned you down, trying to keep you still as his older brother rummaged through your body. Your screams had morphed into horse shouts by the time he finally got the bullet out. But then came the burst of agony as he pushed his hands down as hard as he could on your wound. You whimpered.

“I know. I know Y/N I’m sorry.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you began to lose a grip on consciousness. Black dots danced in your vision.

“Hey. Stay with us!” Tim patted your face. “We need to move fast.

Jason leaned you up against his chest so his brothers could wrap the bandages tightly around your stomach. Damien had returned, informing them that Alfred was on his way. Once the bandages were secured, you were laid back down in Jason's chest, eyes fluttering. Damien returned to holding your hands, rubbing his thumbs back and forth across the flat of your hand. 

“Stay awake, Raven. Talk to us.” Tim prompted.

You were silent for a horrifying moment, before muttering out a few words. “...I’m sorry.”

“No. None of that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“I love you all.”

Your breaths were becoming shallower and you struggled to get the air you needed into your lungs. The black spots began to take over your vision. 

“We love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”

You hummed contently. Your body had begun to go numb. 

A dear ran down Damien’s cheek. You reached up to wipe it away as your older brother had done to you mere minutes ago.

“It’s okay.” You hushed. “It doesn’t hurt bad anymore.”

The two eldest vigilantes swallowed thickly, sharing a wide eyed glance between each other. That was when Alfred turned up, and the next minutes went by in a blur. The boys could do nothing more than watch as they whisked you away into surgery, praying that you would pull through. 

~~~

Dick watched as you began to stir. Your face twitched and you shifted uncomfortably. He had his much larger hand wrapped around yours, and had done for a few hours, insisting that he stay with you. You were his baby sister after all. Bruce had tried to send the other to bed, but like Dick, Jason had insisted that he should be allowed to watch over you too. Bruce was about to protest, but he couldn’t dismiss the distraught look plastered on Jason’s face. He had no doubt that the youngest two were lingering around somewhere, minds too full of opposing thoughts to let them succumb to the sleep that their bodies begged them for. Damian had kept trying to sneak in before being dragged away by Bruce. 

The room had been silent for a few hours as they watched your chest rise and fall. The surgery had been hard on your body, and for a while no one was sure that you were going to pull through. Albeit there you were lying pale but showing signs of waking up, on your bed.

  Alfred and Bruce were frequently in and out of your room where you lay hooked up to all sorts of machines that made Jason cringe. His head was resting on the side of your bed by the hand that Dick wasn’t nursing. His eyes had begun to droop shut as the early hours of the day crept around, when you shifted the let out a pained whimper. When he turned his head, he was greeted by your striking eyes. 

He scrambled off of the floor and into the chair that had been pulled up by your bed. “Y/N? Hey.”

“Boys?” You blinked, your head still groggy from the anaesthesia.

The eldest boy gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah kiddo. We’re here.”

Trying to sit up, the tug on your stitches elicited another cry of pain. Instinctively, both boys helped you sit up. 

“Take it easy, little bat.” Dick told you as you gingerly pushed back the sheets. Your hip was bound tightly in a white bandage. “He got you good.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jay pressed. “You could have…”

“I-”

You were cut off by the sound of the door shuddering open and a pair of your ‘not so little anymore’ brothers' heads peeking around it. They were hesitant, glancing around the room until you gave them a gentle smile.

“Y/N,” Damian rushed into the room, wrapping you tightly into a hug. 

“Hey Dami.” You murmured into his ear. 

He was suddenly ripped away from you by a grinning Tim who chided “Hey, be careful with her, you demon spawn. It’s my turn.”

You chuckled as he pulled you desperately into his arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay Y/N/N. I was so scared.”

You frowned, hoarse voice breaking as you spoke. “I’m sorry-”

“Damian.” A haggard voice sounded from somewhere in the hallway. It was followed by a pair of heavy set shoes. “How many times do I have to tell you to get back in bed-”

Bruce stopped abruptly at the sight of his children crowded before him. His eyes were clad with dark bags and his hair was unkempt on his head. 

“Hi Dad.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless. Pushing past his sons, he was at your side in less than a second. 

And that was when the reality of the whole situation hit you. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Dad. I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t thinking.”

“Shh.” He hushed. “This isn’t your fault. This is no one’s fault but Bane’s.”

“But-”

“Listen to the old man for once little bat. All that matters is that everyone is still together.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY THREE ⛤ DAY FIVE ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

[octoberclidan]

Taken for Granted

Request: sam and dean are in danger, r is supposed to be on the way to help them but they realise that by the time they get there, it'll be too late. so they summon crowley and make a deal, their soul for keeping sam and dean safe but instead of giving them a year or two, he agrees to save sam and dean if their soul will be taken the next time one of the brothers has a fatal injury. so like if one got stabbed, they'd be fine but r would get the stab wound, or if it was a witch who used a spell which would slowly shut down their organs and shit it happens to r instead but theyd be too busy trying to figure out what happened to their brother to notice. Anyway after making this deal they meet back at the bunker and they both have some small injuries but dean goes off at r for not being there for them and says some really horrible stuff to them bc he's mad, and they just take it and don't let the brothers know abt their deal. maybe crowley hangs around, making little comments that nobody understands but r. then maybe the witch thing happens and they spend so much time trying to fix sam that they dont realise r is dying. maybe after the hellhounds get r, crowley lets the boys in on what happened to tease them, maybe bc the brothers were so stressed and lashing out at them while they were trying to fix sam.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader (both platonic)

Summary: Reader (they/them) makes a deal with Crowley to take on injuries sustained by either Sam or Dean in order to save Sam's life. The brothers are unaware of this deal and get annoyed with reader staying at home more and not going with them on cases. When Sam gets hit by a witch's curse, the witch tells them he will die. While they're distracted trying to find a cure for Sam, the reader is dying, becoming closer to going to Hell.

Masterlist

Story:

[Y/N] was lying in bed in the bunker, flicking through an old Men of Letters book on banshees. Sam and Dean had left the previous day for what sounded like a rogue banshee, but [Y/N] had elected to stay behind. Although they had hunted most of their adult life, [Y/N] was always apprehensive when it came to going up against something they'd never faced before, finding the unfamiliarity unsettling. This was often a point of argument between [Y/N] and Dean, who wanted them to 'grow up and act like a real hunter'. Dean and [Y/N] argued a lot. They cared for each other, and saw each other as family much like [Y/N] saw Sam as family, but the bickering was almost constant. They had their chick-flick moments, definitely, but they were becoming less and less frequent.

[Y/N] got on really well with Sam. Sure they had their arguments too, but they didn't bicker with each other like Dean. [Y/N] had been wondering lately whether or not Dean even really wanted them in the bunker anymore. He hadn't said anything specifically about them living there or wanting them to leave, but they were only really tolerating each other for the last few weeks. [Y/N] owed their life to Dean, he had saved them from a vampire nest several years ago, and [Y/N] looked up to him like an older brother. No one could say that the Wichesters weren't the best hunters out there, [Y/N] knew they could learn a lot from the brothers. Just as [Y/N] was turning the page in the book, their phone rang. Picking it up they saw Sam's name, and answered it immediately.

"Hey Sam, how's the hunt going?"

"[Y/N], it's not a banshee". Sam sounded out of breath as he forced this statement out. Pushing back off their pillow, [Y/N] sat up in bed.

"What is it?"

"No idea, but Dean". [Y/N] heard him pause and swallow, trying to catch his breath. [Y/N] could feel their heart start to beat faster, now worried about whatever was going on. "Dean's hurt. Building collapsed. I can't carry him out, his leg is caught. There's smoke". He tried to catch his breath again but began to cough.

"Sam?" [Y/N] called down the phone, now panicking too. He didn't answer, and they called his name again but still no answer. Sam and Dean were too far away for [Y/N] to get to them, and they didn't even know where exactly the brothers were, just the general area from Sam's update earlier that morning. They threw the phone down on the bed and ran out of the room to get the materials needed to summon probably the only person who not only could help, but possible would; Crowley.

[Y/N] had mixed the summoning ingredients in a bowl, had drawn the sigil and had lit the candles. They cut their hand and spilled their blood into the bowl before setting it on fire. [Y/N] hadn't even finished the incantation when Crowley appeared before them.

"Hello, Pet". [Y/N] looked up from the bowl to frown at Crowley's nickname for them. 'The Winchester's Pet', or the 'Spare Member of Team Free Will' were currently Crowley's go-to nicknames for [Y/N]. "What brings me here today?" He asked with a smirk, linking his hands together behind his back.

"I need your help" [Y/N] grumbled at him while they wrapped their cut hand with a bandage. "Sam and Dean, you need to save them. Now".

"They're big boys, they don't usually need much help, at least not bad enough for me to step in. Do they know you called me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. [Y/N] sighed and shook their head.

"We don't have time for this Crowley, will you save them or not? I'm pretty sure they're stuck in a burning house somewhere in California".

"What are you offering?" He now looked interested, seeing [Y/N]'s desperate expression.

"What do you want? My soul? You can have it. Give me the ten years and it's yours, just don't tell them".

Crowley clicked his tongue and began to pace within the devil's trap on the ground. "Ten years sounds like an awfully long time to wait. You know I'm not a crossroads demon anymore, right? I'm the King of Hell! My deals are a harder bargain, Pet".

"Five years"

"Still too long"

"Three"

"Hmm... nope"

"Fine, give me one, then I'll be dragged to Hell willingly, no loopholes".

Crowley stopped pacing and looked up at [Y/N] through his eyelashes, a mischievous look on his face. "It's not really an interesting deal now, is it? It's a bit predictable, boring, normal, been done before..."

"We're running out of time Crowley". [Y/N] snapped at him. "Just tell me what you want".

"You sell your soul, but I'm not putting a time limit on it. You die in the place of whichever Winchester dies next. Until one of them dies, you take on any potentially fatal injuries. One of them gets a scratch, fine, they can keep it. One of them gets a stab wound that they could bleed out from... you take it instead". He smiled at them. "They're currently stuck in a burning house, I'll get them out. You'll take on the lung damage, and Dean's little fibula fracture, it's a nasty one". He snickered.

"Deal. Get them out now".

"Where's my 'thank you'? My kiss? I'm offering you a very generous offer. They might not kick the bucket for another thirty years you know". He smirked at them, knowing that the Winchesters had died many, many times already and the idea of both of them lasting another thirty years without either of them dying was laughable. [Y/N] grumbled but stepped forward into the devil's trap, where Crowley smiled and leaned forward, kissing their lips. When [Y/N] pulled back only two seconds later, he was gone.

[Y/N] rushed to clean up the evidence of their summoning, and just when they were finishing cleaning up the bowl, they started to cough. Their chest hurt, and their throat was dry. Coughing the entire way back to their bedroom, they had only just made it to their bed when they yelled out in pain and heard their leg crack. They looked down at it, it looked fine, but the pain in their lower leg was excruciating. [Y/N] tossed their head back on the pillow and groaned out in pain, gripping their leg tightly with their hand. They couldn't help it, the tears just came spilling out. They were alone, in pain, and couldn't do anything about it. The only thing that made them feel better was a text from Sam saying the monster was dead and they were both okay.

***

Two days passed before the boys arrived back in the bunker. Two days of bearing the pain and limping to and from the kitchen and the bathroom, only leaving the bed when absolutely necessary. It was early evening when [Y/N] was woken up by a knock on their bedroom door. Clearing their throat and trying not to cough too loud, they called out that the door was open. Sam opened the door and poked his head inside, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he saw that [Y/N] was in bed. "Hey, just letting you know we're home. Nothing but some bruises and a few small cuts. Why are you in bed? Are you sick?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I just have a bad cold or something". [Y/N] lied, clearing their throat again. "You uh, got out okay then?" Sam opened the door farther and walked into the room, sitting down on [Y/N]'s bed. They had to bite their tongue to stop a painful groan from leaving their lips as Sam brushed against their damaged leg.

"Yeah, it was really weird actually. Definitely wasn't a banshee, it managed to pretty much destroy the house we were in - the victim's house, set it on fire and everything. Dean's leg was trapped under a collapsed wall, the smoke was really bad. The monster, whatever it was, was coming at us, it was about to take a swing at us, that's when our call cut out, but I was able to keep it back for a little while, then it just fell to the ground. It was dead, but I didn't do anything that could have killed it, I was just fighting with my hands and a small knife. Then the smoke disappeared and the wall on Dean's leg broke apart and he was fine, just had a cut on the side of his leg". [Y/N] was nodding along. "I guess it's just one of those weird ones where we never really know what it was or what happened". He shrugged. "You need anything? Medicine, soup?"

"Could you get me a glass of water?"

"Sure". He smiled kindly at them, and thankfully decided to pat the edge of the bed instead of their leg before he stood up. Sam left the room, and only a few seconds later Dean was in his space in the doorway.

"Why are you in bed?" He asked, stepping into the room and folding his arms.

"I'm sick". [Y/N] coughed and Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Probably just from sitting around all day every day in here, it's the dust. Ever think about going out and getting some fresh air? Maybe even going on a hunt and being useful? Maybe even interact with people? Possibly catch an actual cold?" His words caused [Y/N] more pain than the leg was at that moment. They had just given up their soul, taken on smoke damage and a broken leg for him, and there he was standing there and judging them for being in bed. It was the same story that had repeated itself over and over again in their relationship, or lack of. They felt very taken for granted.

"Fuck off Dean". [Y/N] said, rolling over in their bed to face away from him, pulling the covers up to their chin. They were close to tears, and they definitely didn't want Dean to see.

"Excuse me? You know, if you pulled your weight around here and actually plucked up the courage to go on hunts out of your comfort zone, maybe Sam and I wouldn't be so cut up. We had a house fall on us, we're covered in cuts and bruises, and you're lying in bed with a cold? Getting Sam to bring you water? Grow up". He voice was raised now and [Y/N] couldn't help the tears from spilling over. They heard their door slam closed, Dean was gone.

***

The next morning [Y/N] hobbled into the kitchen to get some breakfast, hoping that Dean wouldn't be in there. Thankfully, it was only Sam sitting at the table. He looked up from his laptop and smiled and them as they limped in, but his smile dropped when he saw their pained expression. "Something wrong with your leg?" He frowned at them.

I fell down the stairs while you were gone, it'll be fine". [Y/N] shrugged as they made their way to get some cereal. Sam stood up immediately and stepped over to grab the cereal for them.

"You sit down, I'll get your stuff". He said but they shook their head.

"I'm not useless Sam".

"I didn't say you were". He held up his hands in defense. "You're just obviously in pain, and I'm not, I can help".

"I don't need your help".

He stood back and folded his arms. "What's gotten into you?"

[Y/N] let out a deep breath before moving over to the table and sitting down. "Do you think I should move out?"

"What? Why would you say that?" He sat down opposite them and studied their face carefully.

"Dean hates me. He thinks I don't pull my weight. I try to go on as many cases as I can, and when I don't go on them I spend all my team researching for you guys. No matter how much I try to help he just shouts at me and basically tells me I'm a waste of space".

Sam reached over the table and placed his hand on [Y/N]'s. "You're not a waste of space, Dean was just scared, and he lashes out when he's scared".

"He doesn't talk to Jody like that, or Garth, or anyone".

"He has. I've seen it. He's even spoken to me like that, it doesn't mean he hates you or wants you gone. I promise you, we want you here". He smiled at them. "Let me check your leg, okay?" [Y/N] nodded and Sam examined their leg, causing [Y/N] to wince at his touch. "Okay, so it's impossible to tell without an x-ray, so I don't know if it's broken or not, but you definitely seem to be in a lot of pain with it. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" [Y/N] shook their head at him. "Alright, but you tell me if it gets worse, tell me if you need help with anything. You sit there and I'll get you some breakfast. I don't want to hear any protesting, and please, just ignore any of Dean's comments. I'll talk to him".

***

Sam spent the next few weeks helping [Y/N] out while their leg slowly healed. [Y/N] ignored Dean as much as they could, and for the most part Dean just left them alone. He even did ask how their leg was a few times, showing a little bit of concern, and his snide comments about [Y/N] being lazy or scared of cases were kept to a minimum. They were still made, but he definitely held back whenever he caught Sam's glare. They were all sitting in the library one morning when Sam looked up from his laptop. "I think I have a case, sounds like a simple salt and burn"

"Go on". Dean put down the magazine he was reading and leaned forward in his chair to listen.

"So get this, a woman reported seeing her dead husband in their garage, apparently throwing stuff around, and she thinks he messed with the breaks in her car and caused her to crash. It's only a couple hours drive from here, we could be there and back by this evening?"

[Y/N] shrugged. "Sound good to me".

"Is your leg good enough?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I think so. This doesn't sound like anything too strenuous anyway, we just go to his grave, salt and burn his bones, then check that he's gone?"

"Sounds like a plan". Dean nodded and went to grab his jacket, and the three of them headed out to the Impala. Dean and [Y/N] always got along better when they were out on hunts, mostly because he couldn't call them lazy or cowardly when they were out there together. The car journey was a nice break from the tension, the three of them chatting and laughing together about a previous case involving Cas being turned into a cat for a day. It was moments like these that made [Y/N] feel like a real part of the team, and not just a 'spare', or a hunter that the boys worked with on occasion. They just wished that Dean would treat them like a real friend more often.

After they salted and burned the bones in the empty graveyard, they filled the grave back in and made their way to the victim's house to check for any signs of a ghost. Dean had his EMF meter out and was going to check the garage where the ghost had last been seen. Sam would check the upstairs of the house, and [Y/N] was to check the downstairs. [Y/N] was searching the kitchen when Dean yelled from the garage. [Y/N] ran towards him and found him on the ground clutching his side. He looked up to [Y/N] and pointed towards the corner of the room. "His wedding ring... on the table... burn it". He managed to force out through gritted teeth. [Y/N] ran towards the work bench in the corner of the garage and lifted up the wedding ring when they heard a gun shot behind them. Spinning around they saw Sam standing in the doorway with his salt loaded gun, having just shot at what [Y/N] assumed was the ghost. Quickly, [Y/N] grabbed a bowl on the bench and threw the ring into it before emptying a container of gasoline into it and taking out their lighter. The ghost reappeared behind Sam and he turned around to shoot it again when [Y/N] flicked on their lighter and tossed it into the bowl. After being shot, the ghost reappeared in front of Sam but was screeching as it went up in flames. Sam and Dean were distracted by it when [Y/N] felt a pain in their side. Clutching their lower left abdomen, they looked down and saw blood start to wet their shirt. Quickly, while the boys were still distracted, [Y/N] zipped up their jacket to stop the blood from being visible.

"Hey, where'd it go?" [Y/N] looked over at Dean who had pulled up his t-shirt and was examining his side. "I swear that thing stabbed me with a knife".

"Maybe it just hit you? There's no sign of a stab wound". Sam said as he leant Dean a hand to pull him up from the ground.

"I know what a stab wound feels like Sammy, I was stabbed".

"Well, you're fine now! Maybe whatever it hit you with just felt like a stab". Sam shrugged as Dean pulled his t-shirt back down. Dean looked over at [Y/N] who had their hand on their side, applying pressure to the wound.

"You good?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah just a stitch probably from running". [Y/N] lied, and thankfully it looked like the two boys bought it.

"Alright, well let's get out of here". Sam said and they made their way out to the Impala. [Y/N] was in the back of the car as usual, as Dean drove and Sam sat shotgun. [Y/N] was having a tough time keeping the pain off their face, very much aware that any time Dean looked in the rear view mirror that he could see them. They were halfway home when a voice caused all three off them to jump.

"Hello, boys". Crowley had appeared in the seat next to [Y/N]. "And the Spare". He turned to smile at them.

"Get out of my car Crowley". Dean growled at him.

"I'm only here to check and see that everything is working like it's supposed to. You know I pride myself on good customer service". Crowley smiled at Dean in the rear view mirror, and Sam turned around in his seat to face him with a confused expression.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked him. Crowley opened his mouth but [Y/N] leaned over slightly and kicked his leg, causing him to look over and see [Y/N]'s warning glance.

"Oh, nothing you need to be concerned with. Nice seeing you". Crowley winked and then he was gone, leaving Sam and Dean even more confused and leaving [Y/N] annoyed, worried that either Sam or Dean would cop on to the fact that Crowley was talking about a deal.

"Well that was weird, what do you think that was about?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head and shrugged, and [Y/N] did the same. The rest of the drive back was quiet apart from Dean's music, and [Y/N] was thankful that the boys didn't keep talking about it, just looking forward to being able to lock themselves in their room and take care of the stab wound in private.

***

[Y/N] kept to themselves over the next few weeks. The wound was healing nicely, but they felt like they may be a liability on hunts since it was still causing pain, so they had passed on several hunts. This had lead to Dean's comments about [Y/N] being lazy making a return. Sam had talked to him about it several times at this stage, clearly seeing how much it was bothering [Y/N], but Dean didn't care anymore. He found it difficult to respect a hunter who was turning down hunts for apparently no reason. Sam had also checked up on [Y/N] several times, but eventually became frustrated with them constantly shutting him out and refusing to open up about whatever was clearly on their mind. So, both Sam and Dean had taken to just leaving [Y/N] alone to work through whatever it was they needed to work through, and went on cases just the two of them.

Luckily, on two of the recent hunts the boys went on, neither of them sustained any serious injury, which meant [Y/N] was also in the clear. [Y/N]'s wound had just about finished healing while the boys were on their third case without them. Unfortunately, on this third case, things didn't go as planned. Dean had called [Y/N] early that morning to say they were on their way home, and he needed [Y/N] to research reversal spells. He wouldn't explain what happened, but just told them to find out everything the bunker had to offer on reversing a witch's curse if you didn't have the opportunity to kill the witch. [Y/N] was sitting at the map table going through the books they had found when the bunker's door opened and Sam and Dean came down the stairs.

"You find anything?" Dean asked as he sat down at the table.

"If you can't kill the witch who cast it, then the reversal spells all seem to depend on the curse that was cast. There isn't like a 'blanket' reversal spell for curses" [Y/N] explained. "What happened?"

"Well that's just great. You'd think that if you weren't going to bother coming on cases then you could at least be of some use with research". Dean rolled his eyes and stood up from the table.

"Dean, it's not [Y/N]'s fault". Sam stepped over to grab his shoulder but Dean shrugged it off.

"Yeah? Well if they had been there then maybe you wouldn't have been hit by that stupid curse. Or if they had been there then maybe we could've ganked the bitch". He glared at [Y/N].

Trying to ignore both his glare and his words, [Y/N] looked to Sam. "What curse?"

Sam sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "The witch hit me with a curse that's apparently gonna slowly shut down my organs. I don't know how long 'slowly' means, but if we can't find a cure then-"

"Then he dies. And I'll be blaming you". Dean cut him off and pointed a finger at [Y/N]. Feeling tears start to form, [Y/N] quickly stood up from the table and made their way to their room, ignoring Sam calling after them. They spent the evening curled up in bed, letting the tears come out. There was no way out of this one, they were going to die. They were going to die, and they were going to spend their last days, weeks, or months with the boys upset at them for not going on the case.

At some stage, [Y/N] had cried themself to sleep. Their sleep was not pleasant, filled with nightmares of losing either Sam or Dean, then changing to dying themself but Sam and Dean not caring. Crowley's smug face made appearances, the sound of Hellhounds coming for them too. They woke up with a jolt of pain; their lower back hurt, their stomach hurt, breathing hurt, their head hurt. They knew it had started, the curse was starting to break their organs down. Their breathing was laboured and they were trying to catch their breath when there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, it opened, and Sam walked in. Catching a glimpse of [Y/N]'s panicked expression, he quickly walked over to the bed and sat down. "Nightmare?" He asked with concern. [Y/N] only nodded, finally getting some control over their breathing again. "I uh, I just wanted to apologise to you on Dean's behalf. He didn't mean what he said, he's just scared of losing me". Sam looked almost embarrassed by Dean's behaviour. "Honestly I feel fine, I think maybe the curse didn't work properly or something, but Dean's determined. He's summoning Crowley now to make some sort of deal".

"What?!" [Y/N] forced out.

"No, don't worry, he's not gonna sell his soul or anything, he's just going to see if Crowley needs anything, like an artefact from the bunker's collection or something". Sam explained. [Y/N] pushed the covers back and got out of the bed, it was to fast because their vision blurred slightly and they swayed, and Sam reached out to grab their shoulders. "You good?" [Y/N] just nodded and pushed through the aches they were feeling everywhere to get to their door. They needed to get to Dean before he called Crowley; they didn't trust him not to tell him about the deal they'd already made.

It was too late when they got to Dean, Crowley was already standing in front of him. "Moose, Pet, nice of you to join us". He smiled at them.

"He won't deal". Dean turned to face Sam, checking him for any sign of the curse working. He didn't look at [Y/N], but if he had, he would've noticed the bags under their eyes and the fact that they were very out of breath.

"I cannot in good faith make a deal with you to save Sam when Sam's not in any danger". Crowley said.

"Good faith?" Sam scoffed at him. "Since when do you have good faith? What do you mean I'm not in danger? The witch said the curse would shut down my organs".

Crowley smirked and glanced over at [Y/N], who gave him a warning glare. Crowley shrugged. "The witch was wrong, Sam's not going to die from any curse that was cast. Now, if you don't mind, I am a very busy person and I have more pressing matters to attend to. Goodbye". With one last knowing smirk directed towards [Y/N], Crowley vanished.

"I guess that's good news?" Sam asked, allowing himself to relax a bit.

"Yeah, yeah I guess the curse didn't work". Dean smiled at him and patted his shoulder before heading out of the room, still not paying any attention to [Y/N]. Sam turned to [Y/N] and they gave him a small smile, hoping it didn't come across as a grimace as they felt a sharp pain in their chest.

"I think I'll try get some more sleep". [Y/N] said, turning towards the door. "I'm glad you're okay Sam".

***

Over the next few days [Y/N] was getting sicker and sicker. They didn't know if Dean didn't notice their absence, or if he just didn't care, but he didn't once check on them. Sam did, coming to the conclusion that [Y/N] must have the flu. He brought them food and water and checked in every few hours, but [Y/N] was asleep for the most part, extremely exhausted. Sleeping was the only time that [Y/N] wasn't in pain, and every time they woke up the pain had grown worse. They were now coughing up blood, their vision was constantly blurry, and they were having difficultly even just getting to the bathroom that was only across the hall from their bedroom.

One evening Sam had come into their room to find them asleep, but had woken them up to say they were heading out. He said Dean had been complaining about being stuck in the bunker, but left out the part about Dean complaining that they were stuck in the bunker because [Y/N] was sick and Sam didn't want to leave them alone. Sam thought it would be best to at least get out to the local bar for a few hours, let Dean let off some steam. He had told [Y/N] to text or call if they needed anything, and had brought them a glass of water before leaving. [Y/N] fell back to sleep as soon as Sam left.

***

It was after midnight when Sam and Dean left the bar. It was close to the bunker, they only had a short walk back, and Sam had been planning on using that time to talk to Dean about [Y/N]. "What's your issue with them? Really?" Sam asked.

"What?"

"[Y/N], you get on great on hunts but the moment we're back at the bunker, it's like you don't give a shit about them. You give them a really hard time Dean, and they look up to you".

"I don't know Sam, they just get on my nerves sometimes. They're a great hunter, and they waste their skills by sitting out on cases".

"They've been on plenty of cases with us".

"Yeah, but only when they know exactly what we're up against. The moment we cross into unfamiliar territory, they chicken out and stay behind. It's a waste. Saving people, hunting things, that's what hunters do. We're not supposed to give a shit what we're going up against, we're not supposed to care that we might get hurt. We're supposed to save people. They can't do that if they're sitting around all day or staying in bed".

"You know they're pretty sick at the moment, right? Like [Y/N] isn't just being lazy, or scared, they're finding it difficult to even breathe. I was half thinking of just taking them to the hospital tomorrow even if they protest".

"You really think it's that bad?" Dean asked as he opened the door to the bunker.

"Yeah Dean, I'm worried". They walked down the stairs together and passed the map table towards the bedrooms. "I'm just gonna check on them quickly". Sam said and Dean nodded, heading towards his own room. He had just reached his bed when he heard Sam shout his name. He grabbed his gun and ran out to [Y/N]'s room to find Sam standing out in the corridor, staring into the room, all colour washed from his face.

"Sammy?" Dean asked cautiously and Sam turned to him, tears pooling in his eyes. Dean stepped towards the door and looked inside, and his heart sank, he immediately felt nauseous. [Y/N]'s chest was ripped apart, and there were bloody pawprints all over the floor. He clenched his jaw and turned away. "Get Crowley here. Now. That son of a bitch had something to do with this". He closed the door behind him and Sam ran off down the corridor to summon Crowley. Dean leaned against the wall and slid down it, feeling his heart beating heavily and tears of his own threatening to spill. He had been nothing but mean to [Y/N] for weeks, months, as long as they'd known each other. He had never been as welcoming as Sam had been, he'd never taken the time to really get to know them, and now their soul had been dragged to Hell just like his had. He needed to know what happened.

"Squirrel! What's the matter?" Dean looked up to see Crowley standing above him, Sam just behind him.

"Fix this". Dean hissed at him before pushing himself back up to standing. "Whatever the fuck you did, you bring them back". He poked Crowley in the chest and Crowley clutched his chest, feigning offense.

"A deal goes two ways you know, I didn't do anything without [Y/N] agreeing. In fact, it was [Y/N] who instigated it".

"What deal?" Sam asked from behind him. Crowley rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Are you two really that stupid? So blind?" He chuckled. "Does a burning house in California ring any bells?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Get to the point Crowley". Dean spat.

"You were gonners. That Kapre was going to burn you two idiots alive. [Y/N] summoned me, offered up their soul in exchange for saving you".

"They sold their soul? You only gave them a few months? What about the ten years? Or even the one year that Dean got?" Sam asked and Crowley shrugged.

"Wasn't interesting enough. I enjoy you two, you're entertaining. The Spare, not so much. Too much sitting around. I saw an opportunity for a bit more entertainment, so I took it". He smiled at them while they both tried to control their anger. "The deal I offered, that they willingly accepted, was that they would sell their soul, but I would only take it when one of you two died. Any potentially fatal or serious wound that either of you received, [Y/N] would take it on instead. They got your broken leg, your stab wound Dean. They got your damaged lungs Moose, and the thing that finished them off, that pesky little witch's curse you got hit with". He smirked at Sam.

"Undo the deal. Now". Dean's jaw was clenched, his fists curled tightly so his fingernails were digging into his palms. Crowley simply raised an eyebrow and nodded towards [Y/N]'s door.

"It's a bit late for that".

"Then make a new deal". Sam demanded, his anger becoming harder for him to control.

"I don't want your souls, not interested".

"Then something else. Anything else. Bring them back".

"Well... there is one thing I could think of that I would find useful". He glanced between the two brothers. "I'll bring them back, their soul returns to them, on the condition than neither of you kill any of my demons for a full year. If one of you does, my hellhound comes back and drags [Y/N] back to Hell all over again".

"Deal". Even Sam was surprised at how quickly Dean agreed to this. Giving up killing demons for an entire year was a lot for him, especially for someone he didn't really get along with.

"Done. Pleasure doing business with you boys". Crowley winked and he was gone. Sam and Dean exchanged a look as Sam carefully pushed back open [Y/N]'s door, and Dean watched as Sam's shoulders relaxed in relief and a smile spread across his face.

"[Y/N]". He breathed out and stepped into the room. Dean was more hesitant, but he needed to see that the deal had worked for himself. Taking a deep breath, he followed Sam to find [Y/N] standing in the middle of the room, fully intact, no sign of sickness. They were staring down at their chest and feeling their body, obviously confused. Sam was over to them in a flash, engulfing them in a hug. "You're okay". He squeezed them around their shoulders and held them as close as possible before letting go and standing back to look at them properly.

"Hey kiddo". Dean stood behind Sam and [Y/N] looked to him.

"What... what happened?"

"You made a stupid ass deal is what happened". Dean grumbled but walked over to them, examining their face for any signs of their previous deal, but [Y/N] looked completely healthy. "C'mere". He mumbled and held out an arm, pulling them close to his chest. "Don't you ever make a deal like that again. You hear me? Your soul is off the table".

"I'm sorry". [Y/N] sniffed, their voice muffled by Dean's flannel.

"I'm sorry too. You saved us, you saved Sammy. We... I took you for granted. I know I'm tough on you, but I promise I'll try and be more understanding in future. I guess I just kinda maybe miss you when you're not out there with us". [Y/N] chucked at Dean's attempt at an apology and pulled back from him.

"It's okay, I think maybe I'll try get out of my comfort zone a bit more, I wouldn't have had to call Crowley if I'd just been with you two in the first place".

"Look, it's in the past. Mistakes were made on all sides. The important thing is we're all here, we're all alive, and we're all safe. How about we take a week off hunting and just spend time together?" Sam suggested and [Y/N] nodded.

"Well, it's not like we can go out and kill demons anyway". Dean grumbled and [Y/N] looked to Sam questioningly.

"We'll explain later. Come on, let's get you something to eat". He put his arm around [Y/N]'s shoulders and the three of them walked out to the kitchen for some much-needed bonding over some food and beers. Dean was going to spend the next week doing whatever he could to make it up to [Y/N], to see them smile.

The end.

[sasuga-whump]

Whump List: おっさんずラブ-リターンズ・Ossan's Love Returns (2024)

Genre: BL, romance, comedy, quirky male lead

Whump themes: blood and injury, passing out

Summary: Haruta and Maki have started living together as newlyweds. However, work and housework become too much for the couple, so they try housekeeping services to make their domestic life easier. But the person who appears at the door turns out to be the retired Kurosawa! Will the love triangle between them happen again?

Whumpees:

和泉・Izumi

Ep 1:

Found collapsed on the ground, concern for him, bleeding from his abdomen, barely conscious, "I'm fine...", caretaker finds him, carried bridal style

Ep 2:

friend concerned for him, holding his wound, "I'm fine now", breathing heavily and crying out, clutching his wound ... flinching and holding his wound ... found collapsed with a shoulder wound, bleeding, "don't call an ambulance"

Ep 3:

cont'd from prev ep... [minor flashback to Izumi collapsing], caretaker helps him to stand, shoulder carried, concerned friend ... at a loved one's grave sombre and contemplative ... caretaker concerned for him, "I'm okay", shoulder pain, flinches

Ep 4:

sad, huddled in a ball on the floor, reliving upsetting memories ... traumatic past reveal, revealed his past lover died in front of him, feeling guilty ... sleeping, taken care of

Ep 5:

sneezing, "I think I caught a cold", forehead checked for fever by friend, feverish, concerned friend ... sneezing, cold and shivering ... sneezing, concern for him

Ep 7:

concerned for Kiku, flashbacks to past lover dying, emotional, calling for Kiku

Ep 9.2 (special ep):

[flashback] using himself as a human shield, shot, gasping, worried caretaker, bleeding, caretaker trying to stop the blood, heavy breathing, semi conscious

菊之助・Kiku

Ep 5:

dejected ... drunk, emotional outburst, feeling guilty, crying, comforted

Ep 7:

in an ambulance, unconscious on a stretcher, rushed into emergency room, bloody shoulder wound, concerned caretaker ... on the rooftop with an IV bag and arm sling, "it was just a scratch", wincing

[whumpshots]

Whump ABC #8 - Hidden Injury

Based on the results of this poll.

_

Caretaker grits their teeth as they get up from the chair, the dizziness almost making them sit down again. But they take a deep breath, straighten their shoulders and walk out of their office. Team leader catches up to them on the hallway, placing a hand on their shoulder which makes them flinch.

The sudden movement hurts, the pain immediately shoots through their body, exhausted and almost shaking as their painkillers slowly but surely stop working. But caretaker bites their tongue and hides the agony they are in - there are more important things to do right now. Resting would set the whole team back, they can't risk it.

"Hey, we need you upstairs," team leader says and eyes them for a few seconds. "Lookin' a bit pale, you good?" Caretaker manages a nod and tries to shake off the pain that won't stop throbbing through their whole body, trying to casually lean against the wall as their knees feel like they almost give in.

"Are you sure you are okay? You seem-" but team leader stops in the middle of their sentence to catch caretaker by the arm and guide them softly to the ground as the collapse, feeling hot and cold at the same time. They try to struggle against the hands lifting their shirt, revealing blood soaked bandages around their abdomen.

"How long have you been hiding this?", team leader asks, eyes widened in concern. "Hey, hey ... stay with me, okay?" But caretaker mutters an excuse and feels the pain take over.

[goldenavenger02]

you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now)

For @badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Hiding An Injury

Hakoda wasn't going to bring it up to any of the teens, but he had a sinking feeling that the week would not be as fun-filled as Aang was hoping.

If Hakoda was being honest with himself, he wasn't completely sure when he started seeing the former prince, now Fire Lord, not as an adversary but as one of the kids.

It would make sense if it had started after he accompanied his own son to save him, as well as Suki, from the Boiling Rock; Hakoda, who had to fight the urge to reprimand the then sixteen year old for putting himself in danger after finding out about the cooler.

But to him, he was more confident that it had been around the time of the coronation; when he saw just how broken Sokka's leg was and heard the tale of how the young Fire Lord had nearly died in order to save Katara's life.

Hakoda knew that he could not stay in the Fire Nation forever, nor did he want to when he finally had the chance to be with his children after the long, miserable years without them.

But he would have been lying if he had said that the reason he had postponed his return to the South Pole wasn't so he could be confident that the teenager wouldn't reinjure himself within a few days of that crown being nestled into his hair.

He should have known that he would be promoted to Head Chieftain upon his return to Wolf Cove, which ended up taking away more time from Katara and Sokka then he would have liked; it didn't make him feel any less guilty that they were simultaneously being pulled across the nations and into more danger then he ever wanted them in again despite the war being over, all with Aang by their side.

Hakoda liked Aang, it was hard not to get along with someone so happy, kind and understanding as the Avatar himself who also made time to play with the other kids in between all of the stuffy meetings that the teenager was subjected to, but he just wished that he would stay put.

And so, maybe that was why he bit the bullet and sent the letter to the new Fire Lord, extending his invitation to the South Pole; while the rest of the higher ups would want to extensively question the teenager about his priorities, he knew he was being mildly selfish in hoping that the response he received about the visit being confirmed and scheduled would be enough to get his children to stay put for more than a few days.

"Do you think Zuko has ever been penguin sledding?" Aang asked one night at the dinner table while sneaking some of the pieces of his bread to Momo, who had refused to be kicked out and curled up next to Aang's ankles at every meal.

"Do I think Zuko, former prince of the Fire Nation who had a stick so far up his as-" a nudge to Sokka's ribs from Katara, seemingly keeping him from swearing. Sokka skipped over the profanity as if it had never left his mouth, "who spent three years of his life hunting you down and is now so busy as the Fire Lord that I'm lucky if he talks to me for more than five minutes whenever I'm there, has been penguin sledding? Yeah, that's gonna be a hard pass, buddy."

"Gonna put it on the list, then."

"Aang, he's coming for work. Like Sokka said, he's been really busy."

"I know," Aang muttered, seeming more like the thirteen year old that he really was rather than the all-powerful Avatar whose very name made grown men tremble in fear, "but he's going to be here for an entire week. He has to have some free time, right?"

Hakoda could tell by Katara's nod, followed by a quick peck on Aang's cheek, that it was more of a hope than genuine confirmation.

They wouldn't end up waiting a long time for Zuko's arrival, however, when the single airship arrived in the South Pole just a few days later and out walked the Fire Lord along with two guards following behind.

"Fire Lord Zuko, welcome to the South Pole."

"Chief Hakoda," the teenager greeted with perfect posture and a professional smile, "thank you for the invitatio-ooff."

It had been going well until the Avatar himself wrapped the Fire Lord into a bone-crushing hug, followed closely behind by Katara while Sokka went around behind him and dumped the fresh snow down the back of his shirt.

To Hakoda's surprise, however, the guards didn't move despite the onslaught of "Fire Lord Hotman" from Aang, belly laughs from Katara and the snowball fight that broke out between Sokka and Zuko.

"I'm not going to tell you two how to do your job," he started, gaining the older guard's attention before pointing at the group of teenagers, "that being said…"

"I'm just glad it's snow and not leaves this time, Chief Hakoda."

"The autumn equinox in Ba Sing Se was a nightmare for the royal stylist." The younger guard added, still firmly in his post.

He had been a parent for sixteen years, and he knew that sometimes, it was not worth asking for more context.

After a few more minutes, however, the group of four seemingly remembered just why Zuko had arrived and helped him off the ground while he brushed off the excess snow from his clothes.

"My apologies, Chief Hakoda." Zuko bowed in his direction with a bright flush on his cheeks; whether it was from impromptu snowball fight or embarrassment, he couldn't tell.

"Well, that is the most I have seen my daughter laugh in a long time, so consider yourself forgiven." Hakoda was smiling as he wrapped his arm around a still giggling Katara while the Fire Lord stood up, but he could feel it morph into a frown as he noticed just how pale he seemed to be, "anyway, why don't we get some lunch?"

"Yes, I'm starving! You are going to love seal jerky, Zuko!" His son insisted as he wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulder, nearly knocking his knees out from under him due to the lack of tread on the Fire Lord's boots.

Hakoda made a mental note to review how the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe was supposed to behave in the presence of royalty with Sokka later.

"You don't have to eat it if you don't want to," Katara added which resulted in a disgruntled sound from her brother, "where's Toph?"

"Oh, she wanted to be here, but then she found out about the climate and I told her that we needed her to keep all of her body parts, and she said, um…" He trailed off, but Hakoda had only needed to speak to the earthbender one time to have a guess what her direct quote was, "well, let's just say she made some very creative threats towards me if I dared to make her wear shoes."

Yeah, Hakoda definitely had an idea about the profanities that had escaped Toph's mouth in response to needing shoes.

"So, I know you have work to do while you're here. But, I've been working on some firebending techniques that I want to get your feedback on, and I've been making a list of activities to do in our free time!"

"Sounds like a plan." Despite the nod and Aang's whoop of excitement, Hakoda winced at just how exhausted Zuko sounded as he spoke.

He had always been more moody and reserved than the others, but now his voice had none of its usual bite now that the adrenaline from the snowball fight had ebbed away. Hakoda wasn't going to bring it up to any of the teens, but he had a sinking feeling that the week would not be as fun-filled as Aang was hoping.

…

Hakoda didn't want to be right.

The meetings had gone better than expected, with Zuko promising that he was doing his best to return all of his military personnel to the Fire Nation as soon as he could without draining the already dwindling economy, as well as helping build up the beginnings of the new trade routes.

In fact, aside from the brief moments of him rubbing at his eyes, Hakoda thought he looked as though he had been able to get some sleep the night before, which ended up being the reason why he allowed Sokka and Katara to postpone their meeting with him and the rest of the council about their specific duties to the tribe.

It wasn't like all of them had been given enough of a chance to relish in their teenage years just like he had done with Bato and Kya at their age. If they wanted to take Zuko penguin sledding that badly, then Hakoda was going to let them.

It even gave him a chance to get to know the guards of the Fire Lord better as they gave him advice about how to better security while he tried, and failed, to pry into any misadventures that his kids had pulled Zuko into.

All in all, as the sun was starting to set over the peaks, Hakoda was about to pat himself on the back for handling this head chieftain promotion pretty damn well, at least until he heard the chatter approaching the house.

"For the last time, let go of me."

"You're still bleeding, Fire Lord Hotman."

"And would you quit it with that? I'm fine, it's just a scratch."

"We don't even need Toph here to know you're lying," Katara's grumble was the loudest as the door to Hakoda's hut swung open to reveal the disastrous consequences of penguin sledding, "hey, dad? A little help?"

Katara, Sokka and Aang had snow on their shoulders and boots and flushed cheeks, but what was more concerning was the Fire Lord sandwiched in between the three of them, with snow caked on his clothes and the red-tinted snow that covered his forehead.

The guards were up before he was, the older one pushing Zuko's snow-covered hair out of the way to get a closer look at the gash on the right side of his head and the younger one asking him various questions to rule out a concussion.

"Qiang, Tao, I'm fine! Seriously, I've gotten worse than this from the turtle ducks."

Hakoda held back a snicker at the whine that interspersed itself with the Fire Lord's voice while he tried to fight off the attention of his guards.

He busied himself with grabbing a clean rag and running it under the warm water from the sink, listening in as the group of three wrangled their friend to sit down in one of the dining chairs.

"The turtle ducks made you smack your head into a tree limb?"

"Sokka, for the last time, it was a branch and all it did was take some of the skin."

"That's still a lot of blood, Zuko."

"It's a head wound, they bleed a lot more. Hold still."

"Katara, don't pull at it!"

"Okay," Hakoda finally spoke up while turning around, getting all six sets of eyes on him despite the fact that his daughter was still trying to get Zuko's hair out of the bloody gash where it had stuck, "unless you are currently in charge of part of one of the four nations, step outside," Hakoda commanded, cutting off his son's question before his hand was even fully in the air, "no, ambassador does not count."

"Damn." Sokka muttered under his breath as he, along with Aang and Katara walked out.

He really needed to review the behavior expected of someone with Sokka's position sooner rather than later.

"Your majesty?" The older guard, Tao, asked, "would you like us to stand guard outside?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Zuko agreed, waiting until his guards were out of the building to practically slump onto the dining room table in exhaustion.

"Are you alright, Fire Lord?" Hakoda asked as he finished wringing out the rag before bringing it and the first aid kit to the dining room table.

"Please just call me Zuko."

"Alright then, but the same goes for you. I wasn't exactly pleased to find out I had been promoted without my knowledge," Hakoda explained before using one hand to tilt his chin upwards and using the other to gently press the cloth against the sticky hair, "sorry if that stings, I just want to get any hair out before it's disinfected."

"It's fine."

"I take it that the penguin sledding didn't go as intended?" Hakoda asked after a few moments.

"What gave it away?"

Hakoda couldn't help but smile at the sarcasm as he deposited the dirty rag onto the table, "well, between the blood and my children along with the Avatar himself holding onto your arms as they brought you in here, just a hunch."

As he spoke, he soaked one of the gauze pads with the disinfectant and pressed it to the gash, unsurprised to see the teenager's knuckles turning white from the strength that he was clenching his fist, "you doing alright?"

He nodded, and stayed silent as Hakoda pulled the gauze away to replace it with a fresh, dry pad that he taped in place; he'd mention something to Katara later, but for now, he knew that he just needed to get Zuko dry now that the snow was melting off of him.

"I'll be right back," he insisted, shutting the first aid kit and picking up the dirty rag, "just gonna get you some dry clothes."

"Thank you, for all of this. If there's anything I can do to repay-"

"None of that," Hakoda insisted, cutting him off with a raised hand, "you are in my territory and you are a friend of Katara and Sokka's. More importantly, their shenanigans put you in this position in the first place. If anything, this is an apology for their actions. No need to repay me."

He quickly went into Sokka's room and grabbed a spare set of clothes before bringing them back to the dining room table only to see Zuko resting his head on his arms.

"Zuko," he called out, setting the folded outfit on the table, "I've got dry clothes for you."

No response.

This had happened with Aang too, the first night he came to the South Pole after the war had ended, only Zuko hadn't fallen asleep face first into a bowl of seaweed stew. Hakoda tried again, his voice a little louder.

"Zuko, you really need to change before you fall asleep for the night. Also, it might be best for your neck not to sleep at the table."

No response again. Hakoda sighed and laid a gentle hand on his left shoulder, "Zuko-"

He didn't expect him to sit up quickly and pull his hand away in sheer determination with golden eyes glowering right at him and fire shining bright in his right palm.

But Hakoda was unable to speak before his wrist was let go and the flames dissipated, the anger turning into deep regret as he stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender.

"I am so sorry-"

"Zuko-"

"I've been unprofessional. You have been nothing but welcoming and kind and I nearly-"

"Zuko, it's okay-"

"I nearly killed you."

And Hakoda wasn't going to deny that yes, he could have hurt him, but the seventeen year old had tears in his eyes as he backed himself into the corner over being woken up unexpectedly.

"Zuko, take a deep breath," Hakoda instructed, managing to lock eyes with the teenager while taking a step forward, "It's okay. No one got hurt."

"I almost-"

"Almost, not did. I'm fine, you are fine and everyone else was sent out. We're all okay," he wasn't surprised by Zuko slumping to his knees on the floor with a nod while he extended his hand towards the teenager, "you need to change and get some real sleep. Can you manage that on your own?"

He nodded again and wrapped his left hand around Hakoda's right, giving him the chance to pull him to his feet only to frown yet again when he saw the sharp wince that crossed Zuko's face.

"What happened to your shoulder?"

"I just need to get some rest."

And Hakoda so badly wanted to push further, the parental side of him desperately wanting to pull the teenager into a tight hug.

But Zuko wasn't one of his kids and, with what he had heard about Ozai over the years, he had a sinking feeling that touch would only result in the young Fire Lord spiraling further.

So he used his best judgment and let go of Zuko's hand before passing him the clothes, "there is an empty bedroom on the right. I'll let your guards know where you are and I suggest having Katara look at your head tomorrow."

"Thank you, Chief Hakoda."

Having been a parent for sixteen years, Hakoda had also learned when to hold his tongue, especially around someone who was easily startled and just nodded in response while saying, "Sleep well, Zuko."

He went outside as soon as he heard the door shut behind the young Fire Lord to be met with three sets of frantic eyes and two sets of raised eyebrows.

"The Fire Lord is getting some sleep," he started, his eyes locked on the two guards, "he's in the third room on the right." He waited until the two guards walked in, a nod given by Tao, before he turned to the three teenagers, "his injuries aren't severe, I don't even think he's going to bruise."

Aang's sigh of relief wasn't lost on Hakoda, but he continued to press on.

"Sokka, you and I will be having a very long discussion in the morning about how the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe should act around royalty, even if they are one of your friend's. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Sokka nodded, the tone being known by his son that it was time for him to turn in before he had a chance to do something else that would be frowned upon, "come on, Aang. It's late."

The young Avatar followed with Momo settled firmly on his shoulder, leaving Hakoda with just his daughter in the snowy wind.

"You said injuries."

And in that snowy wind, when Katara looked into his eyes, he could only see Kya for a few moments as she seemingly looked right into his soul.

"I advised Zuko to come to you in the morning, so you could heal his head wound which is why I'm also going to ask you a question," Hakoda stopped to take in a deep breath, because even if he wasn't one of his, the fact that someone may do this to a child who hadn't even reached eighteen yet…"has he mentioned anything about assassination attempts?"

"For Tui's sake," his daughter cursed as she pinched his nose before a shout tinged with sadness escaped her lips, "he promised to tell me if it happened again! That no-good, jerkbending-"

"Katara," Hakoda scolded, his hands on her shoulders, "regardless of what he said, it would be best not to insult him while he is in our territory."

"He's lucky I don't go in there and ask him what-"

"Katara, that is enough. He had his reasoning, no matter what it was. More importantly, he needs to rest," he stopped to push a strand of hair out of her face, not surprised that it was wet with tears, "and so do you, my child. It has been a very long day, for all of us."

"Y-you're right," she said, wiping her arm on her sleeve before pulling him into a tight hug which Hakoda instantly returned, "goodnight, dad."

"Gp get some sleep."

She let go and made her way to the campsite she had made with Sokka and Aang when they had arrived in Wolf Cove which left Hakoda standing outside of the chieftain building in the snow and his swirling thoughts about how to speak to the Fire Lord in the morning.

…

"So, what do you think, Sifu Hotman?"

"I think your posture needs more work than your use of outdated Fire Nation slang. Straighten out your back and extend your arms, you'll get more force in it."

Hakoda couldn't help but observe the three of them from where he had exited his meeting with Sokka. It had gone well, but he couldn't help but think it would be the first of many.

Aang was eager to continue firebending, showing off the different ways he could bend the flames, waiting for Zuko's advice as he sat next to the fire pit while Katara healed the gash on his forehead.

He was confident that she had already taken care of his shoulder and probably yelled at him a great deal as well while he had been talking to his son.

It didn't take long for Sokka to join the group with Momo on his heels as he carried their breakfast to them on one of the trays and soon enough the entire group was laughing about something that Appa had done the day before.

Hakoda wasn't sure when his parental instincts had spread from just Katara and Sokka to now involving Aang and Zuko as well, but what he did know was that the biggest thing they needed right now was to be kids.

And he was going to do his best to make sure that it happened.

(Want to read the Gaang penguin sledding? Part 2 below)

[whumpetywhump]

W: Two Worlds - Ep. 10

[sweet-lost-husbands]

Hidden Wounds

Hurt/Comfort

Its late I have no idea whats happening anymore. 🫠🫠

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Y/n is Dean's daughter and he takes her on a hunt for the first time. She gets injured and tries to hide it.

Warnings: Serious injury, blood, gore, stiches, painful angel healing.

No usage of y/n.

Italics are the character's thoughts

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Not edited... sorry for any mistakes

Searing pain tore through her side as thick claws dug into her flesh. However, the monster was soon pulled away and begun to fight Dean. Shit.

Dean never brought her out on hunts for this reason specifically. As her father, it would kill him if she got hurt or worse and he couldn’t protect her. It was only by some miracle that Sam had convinced him, but now there was no way in hell they’d ever let her hunt again.

She acted quickly, zipping up her jacket to conceal the wound. She didn’t have time to inspect it or find a way to keep pressure because Dean was only meters away finishing off the vamp.

She couldn’t let him find out.

She noticed as something changed in him when he looked at her, maybe he had saw the brief wince of pain that flickered across her face.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asked, concern etched into his features.

Double shit. He was on to her.

She forced a smile, trying to play it off. "Yeah, just a bit tired from all the action."

He gave her a scrutinizing look but didn't press further, assuming her tiredness was due to the action of the hunt. They continued with their mission, the adrenaline masking the pain that now throbbed in her side. God it hurt.

The fight was a quick one with new vamps who didn’t really know how to put up much resistance and they headed back to their motel.

“You did so well.” Dean praised. If only he knew.

Her eyes had long blurred at the edges and her head spun. She felt like she was as weak as kitten and her legs threatened to give in as she stood.

With the high gone, she felt the pain intensify, but she remained silent, not wanting to worry her father and Sam. She changed into fresh clothes, hoping to hide the blood seeping through her shirt, but she couldn't hide it for long.

Walking into the main room, Dean and Sam noticed her sluggish movements and the pallor that washed over her face. Concern etched into every line of their faces as they finally realized something wasn’t right.

Dean immediately abandoned whatever he was doing and rushed up to her, Sam in tow.

“Hey, easy, easy, let me see.” He came to a stop in front of her, analysing every inch of her body and wondering how in the hell he could have missed something like this. His hands found their way to her jacket wanting a better look to see if she was hurt.

“No.” She snapped, weakly fighting his roaming hands with what little energy she had left.

That’s when he managed to unzip it and see the new shirt beneath, completely soaked through with a thick crimson.

“Holy-” She swiftly cradled her in his arms and carried her to his bed.

“’m fine.” She mumbled but he shushed her.

“Darling you’re not.”

“Sam, a little help.” He called but Sam was already next to him with the first aid kit.

They quickly cut away her clothing enough to give her privacy but still see the wound. Only then did they realise the severity of her injury.

"What happened?" Dean's voice was laced with a mixture of worry and anger. "Why didn't you tell us you were hurt?"

“Because you won’t let me hunt again.” She whispered, breaking into a scream as Sam applied pressure with such force it felt like his entire body weight was on her. A hand was clasped around her mouth.

Sam’s big eyes met her. “I’m sorry but you have to be quiet.”

Despite Dean’s frustration he gently held her hand, wanting to be there for her. “Damn straight I won’t let you hunt again, especially if you get hurt and refuse to tell us.”

Sam removed the pressure and started to examine the damage. Her heart pounded as she anticipated the pain that was to come. It was definitely going to need stitches.

Dean's face softened as he looked at his daughter, his voice worried and gentle. "It's going to hurt, sweetheart, but we need to patch you up." In the meantime, he quickly sent a prayer to Castiel to get here soon to heal her and take away her pain. He never wanted her to have to go through something like this.

“I don’t-”

Dean cut her off, “Shhh, I’m right here, I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

She nodded, trying to steel herself for the pain ahead. She squeezed her eyes shut as Sam carefully cleaned the wounds, his touch gentle despite the urgency of the situation. But the sudden burn of the antiseptic sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but flinch and squirm.

Dean held her hand tightly, providing a source of comfort and support. "You're doing great. Just a little longer."

He could barely watch as Sam took out the needle and started to work. Each prick of the needle sent jolts of pain through her. She tried to remain still, not wanting to prolong the process, but her body trembled with each stitch and when it got too much, she tried to pull away, but Sam kept her there.

“I know, I know.” Dean kissed her forehead.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back, refusing to let her pain be a burden to her family. She knew they were mad at her for not seeking help earlier, and she couldn't bear to see disappointment in their eyes.

When the stitching was finally done, she took a shaky breath, relieved that it was over. She managed to will one hand up to try and feel around the wound, but her hand was pulled away.

“Don’t touch it, we don’t want to have too re-clean it.”

She couldn’t recall when exactly, but Cas arrived, his eyes filled with concern as he saw her condition. "Are you hurt?" he asked softly, already knowing the answer.

She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, but I'll be fine."

Cas placed a hand on her injured side, his healing energy flowing through her. But this time, the healing hurt more than she anticipated. It was like a burning fire coursing through her veins, and she couldn't help but cry out in pain.

"I'm sorry," Cas said, his voice full of remorse. "Healing deep wounds is always more painful."

She gritted her teeth, holding back the tears as she endured the pain. She knew that Cas was doing his best to help her, and she was grateful for his healing touch, even though it hurt.

As the healing process finished, she felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her, but she also felt a sense of relief. Her father, uncle, and Cas were there for her, supporting her through the pain and fear.

As the night settled in, she found herself cradled in her father's arms, her body still aching but her heart filled with warmth. The events of the day had brought them closer together, and she knew that she would never forget the hurt and comfort that had defined their hunt.

With her family by her side, she felt a newfound strength and courage. She was a Winchester, and they faced the darkness together, no matter how painful the journey may be. And as she drifted off to sleep, she knew that her father, uncle and Cas would always be there to protect her, just as she would be there for them in return.

[whumpster-dumpster]

In the mood for a whumpee who doesn't bother the others with their problems -- not in the stoic stiff upper lip "Pretend nothing is wrong and it'll fix itself" way or in the self-deprecating "I don't deserve their help" way but in the painfully polite way where they've always been so mild mannered and take up so little space that maybe the others just don't notice they're shying further into themself

[friendlesscat]

Whumpees that look fine

I've had this nice idea for a while now - usually, when a whumpee is sick or hurt their skin turns pale and clammy, their steps might falter, their eyes can become glassy and unfocused. And of course I adore that, who doesn't.

But what about a whumpee that's suffering but they look the same they usually do? They might complain about feeling sick or faint or tired, but others could just brush it off, since they look just fine - maybe even better than usual. They'd be suffering alone, trying to convince themselves that it's not that bad, they're just being emotional. Until they reach their limit, that is. And then everyone realizes that they screwed up. :D

Quite the potential for hurt with delayed comfort, as well as angst, if you ask me. (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)✨

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1283

Whumptober #15: "I'm fine."

It depressed the whumpee how easy it was to lie, and how gullible everyone else was. Nevertheless, "I'm fine." was all they could say to avoid being sent to medical, and it was enough to keep the attention away from them and onto the mission at hand.

As time passes, however, they begin to wish someone would take notice...

[arctrooper69]

Hiding the Hurt

When you fall behind, Tech is worried about you.

A/N: Whumptober 2022 #4. Prompt: "Dead on Your Feet" (Hiding an Injury).

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury.

--------------------------------------------------

Left foot. Right foot. Breathe. Left foot. Right foot. Breathe.

You repeated the mantra over again and again in your head as you trudged behind the group. The gash on your side screamed as you tried your best to shield it from view. Almost there. You had all but begged Hunter to allow you to come on this mission; you refused to acknowledge that he may have been right.

"Are you alright, y/n?" Tech asked, stepping in beside you.

You jumped, startled out of your inner monologue, "Yeah I'm fine, " you answered, "I'm good!" You gave him a smile.

Tech frowned, not quite believing your answer. "Are you sure? You're lagging behind far more than you normally do after a mission, you know."

You looked up to see that the Batch was indeed several yards ahead of you. How had you not noticed that you'd fallen so far behind?

"I guess I'm just tired," you shrugged, "That was a pretty intense fight we just won."

"No more so than our usual missions."

"I dunno what to tell you. Maybe I'm just having an off day?"

Tech eyed you closely. "You are sweating," he noted. He grabbed your hand "and your pulse is elevated." He dropped your hand suddenly causing your arm to swing back down, brushing roughly against your injured side.

You hissed at the unexpected pain that burned down your side. You tried to pass it off as a cough, but that was futile. You knew Tech had heard you and saw you wince. Welp that was it. You were done for. Say goodbye to ever going on a mission again.

"So you are injured!" Tech said with satisfactory nod, then suddenly frowned as if his own words just hit him. "You're injured!"

You sighed, "I just caught some shrapnel on my side. It's not that bad."

"Not that bad!?" Tech gave you an incredulous look, "Y/n, you can barely put one foot in front of the other!" As if to prove his point, your foot slipped and you stumbled. Tech caught you by the shoulders, hurriedly looking you over. He looked worried - a foreign expression on his usually confident face.

"I'm fine, Tech." You tried to soothe him.

"Clearly you're not."

"Please don't tell Hunter!" you begged. Tech didn't say anything as he looked you up and down, pulling his lips into a thin line.

"Let me see it," he stated, sounding more like an order than a request. He led you by the arm to a nearby rock and gently but firmly pushed you down to a seated position. You bit your lip, wincing as you lifted your arm to give him access to remove the armor from your side.

"Can we just...not tell Hunter about this please?" you asked timidly.

Tech looked up at you, perplexed. "Why not? It would be the most reasonable course of action to let our leader know that a member of his team is injured."

You sighed, knowing that once again he was right. "It's just... I didn't want you guys to see me as a liability. If Hunter finds out I got hurt, he'll never let me out in the field again!" Your throat constricted as if trying to strangle your words. You wanted to cry.

"Hmm...you may be right." Tech mumbled as he scanned your wound.

Your stomach dropped. It was your turn to give him an incredulous look. "Excuse me?"

"Your injury," Tech stated as he blotted away the excess blood before spraying it with bacta. You unconsciously jerked away but Tech held you steady. "You said it wasn't that bad. You were right, although you may need a few stitches."

"Oh," you sighed, "I thought you... nevermind, you weren't even listening." You sniffed, a couple of unbidden tears streaked down your face. What a mess this day had become. You hissed through your teeth as he rubbed a numbing gel over the wound.

Tech looked up as he finished threading the needle.

"No, I was listening and while I do think it was unwise to hide such an injury, I do not think that Hunter would be angry."

"Why wouldn't he be?" you cried, tears falling harder, "I screwed up."

Tech was silent as he tied off the final stitch. "I think he'd be worried." he said finally. He sealed the bandage over the wound and brought his hand to cup your cheek.

"I was worried too, y/n. It could have been so much worse than it was. Just please...please promise me that you won't ever hide an injury from me again. From any of us." He stood up, giving you a kiss on the top of your head.

You sniffed, wiping your tears from you cheeks, "I promise."

--------------------------------------------------

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Lies Late at Night

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober Day 4. Canon Divergent AU. Hiccup won the honor to kill the Nightmare, but before he could, the Nightmare mysteriously disappeared. Now it’s been three years and his father still doesn’t know about Toothless and the Dragon Riders.

Warning: /

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Stoick

Pairing: /

Words: 1 011

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon, Race To The Edge

Prompt: Hiding an injury, Betrayal, Lying

Whumpee: Hiccup, Stoick

Author’s Notes: Thought of this AU, don't have a name for it yet, but I can see the potential for a lot more fics for this one.

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

As quietly as he can, Hiccup tries to open and close the front door to his home. It's late. Much later than he told his dad he'd be. And as luck would have it; his father sits at the fire. He’s been waiting for him, stoking its dying embers.

A pot hangs above it. Hiccup wonders if whatever used to be in it is still edible. He hasn’t eaten since this morning, but he doesn’t hunger for a hearty dinner.

Stoick knows he’s there, he knows he does. Even so, Hiccup tries to sneak past him up the stairs.

Unfortunately, he’s limping and that means he doesn’t get very far without drawing attention. His prosthetic is quite loud on the wooden floor. He can hear the stool under his father creak as the mountainous man rises.

Hiccup freezes just shy of walking up the stairs. His face is in a grimace, bracing himself for what could possibly turn into a lecture.

“You’re late,” his father starts, hands on his hips. It’s a very father-like way of standing and Hiccup can’t look at him.

“Uh, yeah. I, uh… I got held up,” Hiccup explains briefly.

“You got held up? While fishing?” Stoick asks. His son doesn’t need to look to know that at least one eyebrow is raised in suspicion. Not only did he return with no fish to show for his efforts, but the gear he has is not one would usually take with them on a trip to the nearest lake. Not unless his way of catching fish is by clubbing it over the head with the hilt of a sword.

He knows it’s a collapsible sword. Stoick doesn’t understand how it is in any way a reliable weapon.

“Uh, yea-yeah? Anyway, gotta go to bed. Need to get up bright and early tomorrow for work, right?” Hiccup chuckles awkwardly as he tries to cut this conversation short. He’s so tired. He’s tired and in pain and he wants to go to bed.

His father might’ve actually let him go with that one. Hiccup once earned the right to kill the Nightmare, but the dragon mysteriously disappeared and with it disappeared any hope of a connection between father and son.

Not because of Stoick, however. He assured him that they would catch another Nightmare to prove his worth with. It was Hiccup who suddenly pulled away and distanced himself from his father as far as he could go. It no longer feels like they even live in the same house anymore and Stoick has absolutely no idea why.

In a way, it broke the man and that’s why- three years later- he won’t question his son’s whereabouts anymore.

The rest of the village might complain to him about their lackluster heir, but he has lost the will to fight with his son. Hiccup is 18, if he couldn’t change to be one of them earlier, he’s not going to now. At least he still has his friends, for however long they’ll stick around. At least for the time being Astrid seems fond of him. Hiccup won’t let either of them cross this distance between them, but at least he doesn’t have just him and Gobber in his life.

Unfortunately for the both of them, however, he’s limping and his father is still his father.

“Son? Are you hurt?” Hiccup winces at the question.

He and Toothless made a bad fall, dislocating his weak knee. Astrid reset it, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still hurting and his knee isn’t still swelling.

But he can’t tell his dad that. He doesn’t know about Toothless or the missions they do together. No one in the village knows about the Dragon Riders and it’s for the best. If they did... He refuses to imagine what would happen to their dragons if they told anyone. It’s the one thing keeping Snotlout and the twins quiet about their secret.

“Uhm, I-I slipped. It was muddy out there and-and you know how clumsy I am, dad,” Hiccup makes an excuse and one his dad doesn’t believe. He sighs heavily and Hiccup’s chest constricts, he aches knowing that his dad is disappointed in him. They both know he’s lying.

From the corners of his eyes, he dares to look at his old man. Stoick rubs in his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can see the migraine growing.

But just like they both know he’s lying, they also know that neither of them are trying anymore.

“Did you at least visit Gothi?” Stoick asks.

“Of course!” He responds eagerly.

Hopefully, it’ll ease his father’s heart. He hasn’t forgotten yet how he responded to his friends returning him to the village with a terribly mangle leg. The limb was nearly lost in an attempt to rid the Archipelago of the Red Death, but it was in vain. She’s still in that volcano, ruling with an iron fist and bringing death to the Barbaric Archipelago. He and the rest of the Dragon Riders almost lost their lives fighting this behemoth only to find out that she was quite untouchable. And so, the only alternative was to help dragons escape the nest.

“It’s, eh, a minor injury, so,” Hiccup gives him a thumbs up. He hopes to at least assure his father that he’s okay.

But his father sighs and walks back over to the stool to drop down onto it. He should be glad that his son is okay, he should be relieved, but all he can think of is how Hiccup is still lying to him and how he would’ve hidden his injury if Stoick hadn’t caught him.

Hiccup’s guilt grows, he looks away.

“Hiccup… son… When will you finally tell me the truth again?” The question is asked so quietly, he’s not even sure if Stoick meant for him to hear it.

“I don’t know, dad,” Hiccup responds even quieter and limps up the stairs. He heads up to his loft to drop down onto his bed and hopefully leave this day far behind him.