#my chairs are screaming. my bed is punching. the blankets are a burden. the walls compress me. the juice is sour.

[gatun-gatunesco]

...

[awkwardgtace]

Mira's Visit Home Pt 3 (Final)

This one is a bit longer than the others. I couldn't find a place that felt good to split it. Also only used ferrets cause I couldn't think of anything better to fit in her tunnel

Part 1, Part 2

Mira's Visit Home (Ending)

Mira waited for him to reach in and pull her out. She didn’t mind the extra time it took since she could gather her thoughts. She needed to admit to a human she loved him, she could wait most of the week, but Anna made sure that wouldn’t happen. She had made sure he’d heard that Kaya and her mom were coming. A hand came into the pocket interrupting her thoughts. The fingers curled around her, tight enough she couldn’t wiggle out. It was funny to think how this would have terrified her not too long ago. Even after her nightmares feeling his careful, warm touch helped to ground her. She was slowly pulled out of his pocket and placed on a pillow nearby he’d called hers. She thought it was dumb at the time but appreciated it more as time went on. Having a spot near him that was hers felt nice. She watched as he slid the coat off then went about putting that and his bag away. She was a little sad when he sat in his desk chair rather than on the bed with her. She thought he may just lay down and she could pretend she didn’t need to talk to him.

“So…,” he started, “how was seeing home again?”

“It was unbelievable. Everyone was acting differently than they used to. Plus a ton of thanks for bringing help. They even said I could move home if I wanted. Kaya and my mom are going to come next week t-.”

“That’s great,” he didn’t even know he cut her off. “Is there any way I can help you pack?”

“Pack?” she asked. It felt like things fell apart. He sounded so excited he must be relieved he was getting rid of her. She’d seen things before he knew she existed, he was louder and more destructive. She still remembered the time after he’d moved in and he punched the wall, close enough she could have touched his hand. He still probably felt guilty about it. Of course he wanted her gone, he could go back to his normal life without her. She couldn’t help the heartbreak she felt though.

“Yeah, you’re taking your things from here right?” he asked. Corus was desperately trying to sound cheerful. She’d been a positive change for him, someone to care about right when he needed it. It was easier to break his worst habits once he knew someone could be hurt without him fully aware. A fact he’d never have learned if she hadn’t come into his life. He was barely looking at her, trying to think of some way to thank her, to make sure she’d never forget him. He doesn’t know when he fell in love, but he was pretty sure no one would take her place.

“N-no I’ll be fine on my own,” Mira gave a strained smile and started to leave. She wanted him to stop her, ask her to stay, but he wouldn’t. A human would always see someone like her as a burden and it was better he never knew how she felt. She didn’t even realize how much she cared until today. She didn’t even know until everyone said they were glad she’d found someone so important to her. Now she was just going to avoid him until she left, she wouldn’t add more to how she’s a burden.

Mira reached the edge of the bed by the wall and finally let herself cry a little. She knew he’d more than likely be kind about her feelings and turn her down gently, but he was so happy she could leave. Mira started to climb down, and Corus finally let his own feelings show. His smile fell and he blindly grabbed the stress ball he’d bought for his desk after meeting Mira. He tried to calm down, but when it tore he was hit with a sad smile. He hadn’t managed to ruin a stress ball since the day he found her on the table. He wanted to laugh at how dumb all of this was, he should be happy for her, he could go see her probably, but he just hated she was leaving. He hated how everything he thought to say sounded like he wanted to keep her.

Mira was barely aware as she made her way back to her home. Normally after a storm finally ended, Corus would make them both tea and he’d just sit with her in bed for most of the day. She shivered as she realized how much she craved that warmth right now. Even hearing he expected her to leave, a part of her wanted to stay. She didn’t think she’d be happy back with the others, not after hearing that any of them had wanted her dead all those years ago. They’d changed, but they could change back just as easily. Anna had told her she was a little worried about how long things would stay different, but didn’t want to make the choice for her. Mira silently curled up in her fabric nest, holding a scrap Corus had given her tightly around her. The first time it wasn’t her blanket from home she sought out for comfort.

Corus and Mira had barely interacted for the next few days. He kept trying, but he didn’t want to risk saying something wrong and making her scared. Mira just didn’t want to be more of a burden. She was avoiding even sharing a meal, and wouldn't take the gifts he left at her entrances. She’d gone back to trying to only be out when she thought he was asleep. He wasn’t happy leaving things this way, he wanted to get her something to say goodbye at least. He wanted to make sure she knew he cared. He spent a day out in town, looking for something for her and giving her space. He knew it would probably amount to nothing like all the times before this. He stopped as he passed by the antique store, he had found the perfect thing to give her as a goodbye.

Their avoidance continued Mira having fewer and fewer reasons to even leave the walls. She was curled up at home, she didn’t have anything to do, all her projects would be left behind. Of course she could work on her half finished ones, but they were mostly in Corus’s room. She just didn’t want to bother him or risk him hearing her and saying something. Corus was anxious he hadn’t seen Mira in two days and he didn’t want to miss his chance to at least say goodbye. He was working up the courage to call out for her, when a knock sounded at the door. He rolled his eyes, but went to deal with his guest, he didn’t expect Mrs. Adam to be standing there. He was tempted to slam the door in her face, but decided to hear her out just in case.

“Mrs. Adam, what can I do for you?” he asked, his tone was barely friendly and he saw her grimace. She seemed nervous for once.

“Well I wanted to warn you, my pet ferret got out, and I know you don’t put out traps. There was also that squirrel you dealt with recently. I thought I saw him in your yard, but when I rushed over he was gone,” she said. Corus felt his heart stop. Mira was safe, she was inside there were at least two more days before her family would come to get her. Things would be fine, they had to be. He thanked her and shut the door, ignoring anything else she started to say. He needed to get Mira.

Mira prayed she was having realistic nightmares again. She’d fallen asleep for a little, waking up when she heard something that sounded like tapping. Her eyes went wide when she saw some weird animal watching her. It looked like it might just be curious, but she needed to find a way to distract it so she could run. Time felt frozen as she stared at the awful creature, nothing should be able to get in she’d made sure of that. No she usually did, she never shut the door the day they went to her home, Corus had grabbed them because of that nosy human and walked off. She came back so out of it she never thought to check.

“Mira!” Corus yelled, banging on the wall. That seemed to hit play on the frozen scene, the creature moved forward, but Mira managed to roll out of the way just in time. She started running, aiming for her closest entrance, the one on the floor of the kitchen. Only to freeze when the things face showed up in front of her. For once she hated herself for making each path have more than one point of access. “Mira please! I need you to come out. Please!”

Mira wanted to cry at how desperate he sounded. There wasn’t any option for her now. She could dodge for a bit, but she was stuck and in her haste left all her tools behind. There was another bang, louder than Corus knocking on the wall and she screamed. She didn’t mean to, but the built up fear let it out, which helped the thing focus back on her. She was frantically searching for a way out, but couldn’t find a way past where it wouldn’t be able to just block her path again. She was terrified, she needed help. She wouldn’t even get to tell him how she felt before she would be gone.

The creature pounced at her and she screamed as she dodged out of the way. The louder bangs were getting closer, another animal had probably been inside and they hadn’t crossed paths. She felt tears start to trickle down her face. The creature was focused on the noises mostly, but if she moved it would be back on her in an instant. There’s no way she’d get out of this in one piece, well maybe she would and that could be worse. She was tempted to call out for Corus, but he couldn’t help. Even if he heard her, he had stopped breaking things, why would he tear apart his house for her.

The creature seemed to lose interest in the bangs, eyes focused back on Mira’s small form. She resigned herself to her fate and shut her eyes. She didn’t have to watch it happen, and she’d fight like hell once it touched her. There was a breath washing over her and she screamed for help she knew wasn’t coming. There was a bang louder than others and thought she felt something like dust fall around her. Wind rushed past her, but she was shocked that nothing had hit her. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but heard a weird almost whining sound. She opened her eyes a little and saw the creature had been grabbed by a hand. Mira shivered as the creature was pulled out of the wall. Her legs giving out, she fell to the ground.

She knew she needed to get up and run, her mind was a mess. Something stopped that creature, maybe a human she should hide from humans. She tried to stand, falling back down more than once. By the time Mira was standing again, the hand was back. She froze, she could tell this time, it was a human hand, nightmares she couldn’t forget flooded her mind. A human was here to get her and she couldn’t bring herself to move. Mira didn’t have time to wait long before the hand started to move again, it came towards her and she whimpered. It didn’t stop the hand as it reached her, quickly wrapping her in a tight grip. Somewhere in her mind she thought this should feel safe.

She felt herself start getting pulled up, and she started squirming. She just wanted to get somewhere safe. Before long the hand she was in stopped moving, even with her squirming it hadn’t tightened once. She could feel as the one holding her started moving, they stopped somewhere and she started to truly panic. She didn’t know who this was, or why they were so adamant about reaching her. She felt herself get lowered again, and finally the hand opened. She didn’t realize she’d shut her eyes, but snapped them open once the grip was released. She slid off landing on the kitchen table, frantically searching for a way out.

“Mira, Mira please,” the human whispered to her. “It’s me, it’s Corus. I'm so sorry I scared you.”

Corus, it was Corus who grabbed her. He’s apologizing, she slowly looked up and met his eyes. He looked like he’d been crying. Just seeing his face started to calm her down, her cloudy mind starting clear. He saved her, he was helping her, his grip was safe, he was trustworthy, and she loved him. He reached out and used his thumb to wipe at her face, she didn’t realize her tears hadn’t stopped. She leaned into his touch, relieved it wasn’t a nightmare coming true.She saw around him that the wall had been torn apart just enough he could see in. A hammer on the counter near it.

“Mira. Did the ferret hurt you at all?” she shook her head. “Thank god, I have no idea what I’d do if I lost you.”

“You're the one who wants me to leave,” she said, quickly covering her mouth hoping he hadn’t heard her. He looked at her shocked, soon a look of realization dawned on his face.

“What? No, I,” he started. “J-just uh, will you come with me for a second, please?”

He looked at her with puppy dog eyes, he must have thought she’d say no. She was too terrified to be left alone right now. Even if the wall wasn’t destroyed, who knows what else could have gotten in during that time, she was lucky. She nodded at him, a little worried she’d say more she meant to keep to herself if she tried to talk. She was still terrified that the creature, no ferret, was going to kill her, and she really thought the hand that had grabbed her was dangerous. She wanted to feel safe and that meant Corus.

Corus held her cupped closely to his chest, not letting her see anything as he stood. She wondered if he thought she hadn’t seen the damage to the wall yet, maybe he was worried she’d be scared. He saved her, he shouldn’t be so worried. The trip was shorter than she expected, he must have rushed to his room. He carefully placed her on her pillow and started moving around his room. She didn’t really know what he wanted, but this was probably how he wanted repayment for saving her. Mira couldn’t get the idea of being a burden out of her mind.

Corus was frantically trying to find a good way to present what he bought her. He’d planned to just hand it all to her originally, but now he had to make her understand. Clearly she’d thought he didn’t want her here, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He sighed, realizing this was a dumb attempt to stall, she was literally sitting on his bed and probably had none of what she needed to get down. He grabbed the small bag and moved back over to her, he sat on the floor so his head was more even to her. He didn’t want to let himself read into how she looked.

He took a deep breath and finally looked at her, she looked terrified, “Mira. I, uh, I don’t know what made you think I don’t want you here, but that’s wrong on every level. I’ve been… I’ve been terrified of myself since you told me you could go home. I didn’t want to do anything that made you think you couldn’t leave. I-I feel like I’ve been a better person since I met you. Finally getting my anger more under control is just one way. I wanted to get you something, something that I knew you’d probably yell at me for and I found these when I was out in town the other day.”

He quickly reached into the bag and placed a small chest in front of her. She looked at it confused, but inched toward it to open it. She slowly lifted the lid and let out an audible gasp. Inside was a small replica that looked like a real sword, like in the movies Corus had shown her. She carefully pulled it out, it was heavy, but she could use it still. She poked the end of it, jumping when it pricked her finger slightly. It wasn’t just for show it was sharp too. She looked back and saw the case, she couldn’t remember what it was called, pulling it out to slip it carefully inside. She placed it down next to her, and looked back into the chest. There was folded paper in there that she carefully pulled out, she couldn’t tell what it was and looked up to Corus finally.

“What...what is all this?” she asked. Her voice was rough and she couldn’t understand.

“I remembered the time I was looking at things online for you. There was a model sword you looked at so excitedly, but said you didn’t want or need when I offered to get it. I saw that in an antique store, and I sharpened it when I got home, so you could use it. When I was in there I saw the chest and it had a bunch of patterns for doll clothes. I thought you could use them to help make more clothes for yourself and the others.”

“Why would you get me all this?”

“I’m going to miss you, a lot.” He let out a deep sigh. “Mira I don’t really know how to tell you this or when it even happened, but I love you. I can’t really picture my life without you in it. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop you from leaving, I just, it’s only fair you know how much I care about you. I-I never meant to make you think I didn’t want you here, I just didn’t want you to think how I felt would mean you couldn’t leave.”

Mira dropped the papers, patterns she told herself, she was holding and ran forward. Corus went wide eyed and held out his hands as she jumped off, clearly trusting he’d catch her. He held her close to his face to make sure she was all right after her stunt, but when he brought her close enough she planted a light kiss on his nose. Corus felt his mouth fall open, he couldn’t believe she just did that. He saw the tears on her face and moved to wipe them clear with his thumb.

“You’re such a damned idiot,” Mira said, laughter following. “I tried to tell you that day and you cut me off. I thought you were so excited I could leave. I didn’t want to burden you anymore since you seemed so excited at the idea of my leaving. I wanted to stay here. I’ve never really said I trusted anyone, or asked for help. I always had to prove myself, but Kaya thought I was tricking you and just everything from when I was inside the community. I-I realized that I-I love you too.”

Corus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only was he in love with a woman small enough to fit in his hand, but she loved him too. She loved him even after seeing how bad he could get when he wasn’t controlling his anger. He moved her closer to his mouth and kissed her gently pushing her into his palm. She kissed him back of course, when he pulled away they both just stared into each other’s eyes taking in what just happened. Corus used one hand to hold her close to his chest and carefully moved the chest, small sword, and clothes patterns to his desk. He then climbed into bed placing her on her pillow, but laying closer than he usually did, nose nearly touching her chest.

“So what does this mean for you going back?” he asked. He wouldn’t stop her even if she went back after this. Staying here after today wouldn’t seem smart to him either.

“I wait for them to check up on me, tell them I’m staying. Although I may need to move my main home since someone tore apart the wall.” she teased. Everything felt like a dream. She wasn’t sure she’d trust this was real. Her mind still felt cloudy, but this felt perfect.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I heard you scream and knew something that could kill you was nearby,” he said seriously.

“How are you even going to fix that?”

“I have a friend, he takes care of when I break things usually, fixes it for a discount with how much business I’ve given to him.” He made a face and Mira laughed. She moved closer and snuggled up to his nose. The two stayed like that for most of the day, moving to eat a late meal. Corus was terrified to send her back to the walls, and Mira didn’t feel safe about it either. As night fell, Mira started falling asleep and Corus just lifted her carefully placing her over his heart. Letting things be for the night, she felt safer than she had in the last week.

At least until she woke up to her name being called out by Kaya and her mother. Mira jolted up, Corus’s hand having slipped off sometime in the night. They were early, probably to make sure she didn’t avoid things. She carefully walked along his chest to his face, she slid down his shoulder to the pillow and started smacking at his cheek. He needed to wake up before the two became convinced he’d hurt her. It would not end well at all. Slapping his cheek wasn’t working so she decided to use her shoulder to bash into his cheek and try to wake him up. He jumped, his hand flying to where she’d been sleeping minutes ago. He sat up worried, knocking her back on the pillow.

“Corus,” she called up. He quickly turned to where he’d heard her voice, relaxing once he confirmed she was safe. Also upon realizing yesterday wasn’t just a long dream. He reached out towards her, intending to grab her until he heard her name called. He froze, unsure what to do, they’d see the wall, the damage he caused. They had definitely seen it considering they were already calling for her. He thought they had another day.

“Corus we need to go meet them. They probably came early to make sure we talked,” Mira’s voice brought him back to now. She was right, they would probably try to make her leave after what they’ve seen. He’s shocked they called out, not just searching blindly in fear. Corus reached out again, carefully scooping her off the pillow. He walked to the kitchen, focusing on the ground just in case they’d come searching. He didn’t want to go to them, it could mean Mira leaving, but he couldn’t just avoid this.

When walking into the kitchen, he was shocked to see the two standing on the table. He approached it slowly, intimidated by the looks they had. He quickly lowered Mira to the table with an awkward smile. He wasn’t sure if he should stay, but looking at the aftermath of yesterday he didn’t want to hear this. He started to back away when a sharp glare from Mira’s mother stopped him. Clearly they didn’t trust he wasn’t planning something so he just stood there awkwardly.

“Mom, Kaya I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you. I thought you were coming tomorrow,” Mira said.

“Are you all right? What happened….” Kaya trailed off looking towards the wall. Corus watched and shivered when Amy glared at him. It really didn’t look good.

“You were after her for some reason.” Amy said. “Explain.”

“I-” Mira started.

“Not you. Corus.”

“O-oh, uhm.” He started. “I-I was told someone’s pet had gotten loose and that it disappeared by my house. I called out for Mira, but she didn’t answer. I moved the cabinet, but it fell then I heard her scream. I tore apart the wall to reach her. When I got the wall open enough I grabbed the ferret first. I came back after putting it in a cage to make sure she wasn’t hurt.”

“I see,” Amy said. “Please leave us alone to speak with Mirabelle.”

Corus nodded and quickly left the room. He went back to his room first, packing his gifts to Mira back into the chest. He’d make it easy since he didn’t actually find out what was coming next. This could still be goodbye, they wouldn’t want him to visit after seeing what he did. Obviously they’d be scared, and wouldn’t trust him to watch over her. It wasn’t like she couldn’t take care of herself, but away from her home he had to be there for her. He went a bit closer, but stayed far enough away that unless Mira was calling for him he wouldn’t hear their voices.

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

“He isn’t lying, that is what happened,“ Mira said, staring at Kaya and her mother. Both of them looked skeptical to say the least. It wasn’t like he didn’t show he cared about her, but tearing apart his home seemed odd. Humans wouldn’t be likely to destroy their home to save one of their kind, even ones they liked as far as her community was concerned. Although he clearly cared for Mira more than just as an interesting creature, or a pet.

“I believe him,” Kaya said. They looked at Mira with a sad smile.

“I do too, that isn’t the problem,” her mother said. “Mirabelle, looking at everything he did you shouldn’t stay here. This kind of destruction is the problem of being around humans. Do you realize how dangerous this was for you? What if your scream was something else?”

“Mother, anywhere I go there’s danger. How long can we trust the people at the community won’t decide I’m a danger? Besides I’m not stupid you think I wouldn’t avoid a human who acted like this thoughtlessly?”

“Mira, what if he’d grabbed you with the strength he used like that? What if you hadn’t just gotten on his hand?” Kaya asked.

“I didn’t. He did grab me. I was terrified I didn’t know who it was. I couldn’t even understand that it was him at first. If he didn’t grab me you probably would have found me still terrified in the pathway he’d pulled the ferret out of.”

“Mirabelle, this isn’t a joke. You need to come home with us.” Her mother’s voice was firm, it was the same voice she used when Mira was a little kid getting into trouble.

“I won’t go back there. I’m staying here. He loves me, since he met me he’s been kind. I’d seen plenty of examples of how bad he could get. If this is what he’d do to make sure I’m safe I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I want to stay where I’m not going to leave just to be scared of being sent away again, this time to die.”

Kaya walked up and hugged Mira, she had tears streaming down her face. Her mother seemed disappointed, but wasn’t speaking. Mira couldn’t go back there, not after Collin slapped her, no one else acted to defend her when he’d treated her like that. He’d hit her plenty of times as a child, even when she wasn’t involved in the problem and was just nearby. She’d been belittled and yelled at her whole life, Corus was probably the only person she’d met that she didn’t have to prove herself to besides her parents. Even Kaya had been suspicious of her at first, until Mira defended them. Corus was also the first person to ever stop Collin, everyone else would just make sure she wasn’t too hurt after he’d left.

Mira’s mother sighed, “Fine, I can’t really argue on that. You seemed happy when I saw you, you know? The first time in nearly ten years and the first time in almost twenty eight that your smile looked so genuine. Please be safe darling. I don’t want to find out I made a mistake trusting your judgement on who you fell for.”

Kaya let Mira out of the hug, her mother quickly taking their place. Mira was a little shocked, expecting more fighting. She made her decision and she wouldn’t change her mind, although they’d need to fix the wall as soon as possible. Mira’s mother didn’t seem to be willing to let go, but neither minded. Realistically, Mira wouldn’t be able to see them again for a long time. It wasn’t practical, drawing attention to the woods even close wouldn’t be viable. After what felt like hours Mira’s mother finally pulled away, a large smile on her face.

“Might as well call him back to tell him your decision right?” she said. Mira couldn’t hide how happy she was that her mother was supportive. She was sure dad would be too, but he wasn’t able to leave easily. He was a guard for their community. Although the damage to the wall may have made him take longer to convince. Mira nodded and turned away from the two to call out.

“Corus, can you come back in here?” She hoped he could hear her. She didn’t have to wait long before she heard his footsteps booming as he walked in. She smiled realizing that with everything he did change for her, he never stopped walking heavily. She wouldn’t admit that she liked always having a strong idea of where he was and when he’d enter a room still. When he walked in, she saw the chest he’d used for her gifts yesterday. He must believe she was leaving.

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

“Hey, so what’s the verdict?” he asked awkwardly. Kaya and Amy looked at him, both with a gaze that made him feel small. There’s no way they weren’t insisting she leave after what they came to this morning.

“We’ll be leaving. I expect you’ll keep her safe, without destroying things,” her mother said. Corus winced, but quickly nodded. He never wanted to feel a need to tear into the wall again either. She seemed to accept this with a nod and the two started to climb down the table, a string hanging off he hadn’t noticed before.

“Oh wait,” he called out to them, moving to be more at eye level. “I was thinking of having a fence built for well, the part of the yard I own up to the woods. Can you let me know if that would cause you guys any issues? I thought it might be helpful to have a safe area to go between where more humans can’t see you. Plus it would be easier if you wanted to come see Mira, or if she wanted to go see you.”

“You would do this, so it’s safe for us to go back and forth if we chose?” Amy asked. Kaya was just staring with wide eyes.

“I mean considering how my neighbor is, I’d feel better knowing you had a place to hide from her. Although if it’s a risk to any of you guys in any way I’m happy not to.”

“We’ll talk with the others and let you know, i-is that all right?” Kaya spoke up. Mira frowned a bit hearing their nerves coming through. Kaya would trust her judgement, but clearly couldn’t get over their own fear.

“Of course. Although I’m going to be having a friend come by soon to fix the wall, so just keep an eye out for that. I don’t want you guys getting seen by anyone you don’t trust. He’ll probably be by in the next few weeks. You should be able to tell if he’s here and avoid him though.”

The two nodded then made a move to leave again. Corus and Mira watched as they made their way out, through the entrance she never showed him. He sent her a look, but she just smiled innocently. They could talk later about her entrances, for now Mira just wanted to be happy. Once enough time had passed she felt sure they were gone she looked at him with the best angry look she could muster.

“After all of that yesterday, you still thought I’d leave?” she tried hard to sound hurt.

“I didn’t know if they might convince you, I didn’t want to make you guys wait,” he answered, looking away from her.

“Is that really it?”

“I.... I thought you might be scared, even after yesterday. I didn’t know how clear you got a look at, well at what I did. I kind of thought you should be afraid honestly. I mean it wasn’t like I was thinking straight, I could have hurt you or-”

“You wouldn’t. Remember I was here when you moved in. If I was going to be scared off by you breaking things I should be gone by now.”

Mira beamed at him. She never really thought she’d put her life in someone’s hands, but Corus was worth it. He showed how much he cared about her, and how careful he’d be even when he was acting on impulse. Corus couldn’t believe how much faith she really had after his own actions. He leaned forward, placing a kiss on her again making her squeak. This seemed like a long dream. One he didn’t want to wake up from. He placed his hand flat on the table next to her, and she quickly climbed on. The two made their way back to his bedroom to sleep a bit more before doing anything for the day.

[whumpywhumper]

Photographic Evidence

Please see the new Markus/Lucien Series: Masterpost

This follows shortly after: Here to Help there’s a little time skip with some mentions of things that haven’t been written yet, but it’s fairly obvious what’s been skipped over. 

Tagging: @oceanthesarcasamfox @insanitywishes @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @imagination1reality0 @voidwhump @captivity-whump

Huge shout out to both @0idril0 and @rosesareviolentlyread: I would not keep writing without you two, and Idril puts up with way too many questions. 

Also, @walkingchemicalfire HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! Have 6k words :P 

TW: aftermath of captivity; aftermath of abuse; graphic depictions of injury and medical treatment; mentions of potential brain injury. Please, let me know if there’s something specific I’ve overlooked. 

V***V

“Look, ma’am, I’m just trying to do my job. I didn’t meant to—“ 

“I don’t give a fuck what you meant to do, you are endangering my patient. Get. Out.” 

Ben heard the raised voices from the other end of the bullpen, turning with the nurses and other police officers to see what the commotion was about. Not that it was the only commotion taking place, they were less than a day out from one of the biggest raids NYPD had seen in decades and there was a truck-load of uniformed officers and plain clothes detectives milling around the harried nurses, but this particular commotion sounded volatile.  

Eyeing the crowd, Ben saw that he was likely the ranking officer available to mediate the dispute and sighed. 

He was exhausted, sweaty, and still in his tactical pants from the raid. His head was killing him, and his eyes were blurring and scratching with the need to find his glasses. He had no idea where Kincaid or Holland were located, and this was the very last thing he wanted to be doing right now. He didn’t, however, hesitate to heft his stack of files and the clip board he’d been using to take notes on his interviews, and step toward the room. The room was like many of the others on this floor, glass walls with curtains that protected the patient’s privacy, and made them convenient for private interviews. That they also just so happened to be the hospital’s more intensive stay rooms was not something he was trying to think too hard about, guilt that they were interrupting the hospital’s natural rhythm settling heavy in his gut. 

At this point, there was no telling who was inside this particular room, the victims had been shuffled like a back alley shell game as they tried to make sense of who needed to go where. He was pretty sure he’d already conducted three separate interviews in the room next door, and it wasn’t even noon. 

There was a uniformed officer inside, the creases and pressed nature of his uniform screaming rookie, with his back to the door. His hands were at his hips as he tried to, quite unsuccessfully, stare down a tiny brunette nurse standing in front of a bed. There was practically a storm cloud over the woman’s head, her dark eyes flinty as she poked him in the chest. “I’m not going to ask you again,” the woman threatened, her voice soft over a rolling hispanic accent. 

Reading the tags on the door, Ben quickly grabbed a face mask and juggled his precarious paper burden to slip it on, before knocking on the door jam and sticking his head inside. “Is there a problem here?” 

The rookie turned sharply on his heel, and Ben’s eyes caught that he didn’t have a mask on, but his attention was drawn away when the nurse’s gaze snapped toward him as well. Ben winced at the vitriol in her expression, even half-covered by the mask, and prepared himself to soothe some ruffled feathers. 

“Yes, there’s a problem here. Your officer is endangering my patient, and he needs to leave. Now.” 

The rookie, Peters, from his lapel, sighed and held up the camera hanging from a strap around his neck. “Sir, Captain Holland asked me to get pictures of the victims and their injuries. I’m just trying to do that, but she’s interfering.” 

“That is not the issue and you know it.” The woman’s eyes flashed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. 

The young officer turned on her with bared teeth, apparently repeating something he’s said to her before. “Captain Holland told me not to get in the way of the nurses or bother them. I’m not trying to hurt your patient.”  

Ben could feel his head throbbing as his migraine grew, and pressed his lips together, trying for a calm, measured tone as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ma’am, it really is very important that we collect the necessary evidence from the victims. I’m sure if you and Officer Peters can cooperate—” 

“Cooperate? You think this is an issue of cooperation?!” The storm fell with a fury, and Ben’s eyes widened as the nurse’s voice raised, words coming faster and faster. “If he’d asked for help then there would be no issue, but moving a critical care patient by himself and almost ripping out his chest tube is absolutely an issue.” She drew herself up to her full height, the top of her head coming up to Ben’s shoulder, the force of her spat words making him want to lean away. “I don’t care if you don’t know his name, but he’s my patient, and I won’t let you to hurt him out of ignorance.” 

Ben blinked, eyes shooting to the still form on the bed. It felt like he’d been punched in the gut when he recognized the pale skin and dark hair, and his breath left him in a sharp exhale. 

The John Doe that he and Kincaid had transported from the nest was still intubated, the tube pulling the side of his mouth painfully from where the apparatus holding it in place had been knocked askew. There was a wetness to his lashes which spoke of fake tears and absolutely no color had returned to those pale cheeks. Ben’s eyes were drawn lower, to where the blankets had been pulled away from the younger man’s torso, vicious red droplets of blood staining the white sheets where a chest tube, amongst others, was running under the mostly unconnected gown. 

Ben felt his expression harden and his shoulders straightened from their fatigued slouch. He turned from the nurse’s rage to look down on the rookie, whose eyes widened at the cold fury on Ben’s face. “You tried to turn this patient without the assistance of one of the nursing staff? What are you? Stupid?!” 

“No! Sir! I was just—“ A slashing hand motion cut Peters off, and his teeth clacked together with the speed of his jaw closing. 

“I don’t give a shit what Holland ordered. Use your goddamn brain, Officer.” Ben’s voice was seething between his teeth, and he used his free hand to grab the young man’s shoulder and swing him around so that he could face the patient in the bed. “You could have killed him, do you get that? Use your brain and ask questions next time.” 

The rookie, wisely, did not say anything other than a quiet, “Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” Ben took a deep, calming breath, wincing as the ache of his head turned into a knife behind his eye. “Now, give me that camera and take these to the conference room at the end of the hall. Report to Holland, and let him know that I’ve put you on filing duty. Explain to him what happened, and if what I hear from him does not match what actually happened then we are going to have words. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant.” Peters nodded, not quite meeting his gaze as the camera and folders exchanged hands. 

The younger officer left the room quickly after that, and Ben closed his eyes as he fought to control his temper, his fingers massaging against his eyelids in an effort to push away the headache for a few more hours. Of all of the stupid, idiotic, ill-conceived. . . 

The nurse cleared her throat, and Ben jumped, shooting her an apologetic glance at her over his mask. He adjusted the angle of his shoulders, giving her a slight nod. “Ma’am, I apologize for Officer Peters behavior and thoughtless actions.” The professional apology slid out of his mouth automatically, belaying the still swirling protective drive that was making his heart pound in his chest. “It is never our intention to put victims at any more risk than they’ve already been.” 

She nodded at him, her expression easing out of its angry cast at the sincerity in his words. “Thank you, Lieutenant—?” 

“Carter,” he answered, offering her his hand to shake until he saw her gloves and retracted it. “Lieutenant Benjamin Cater, but please, I answer to Ben.” 

Ben tried to smile at her, even with the futility of the mask hiding his expression, but it felt hollow even to him. Usually, he was charming, flirtatious even, but he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept in over twenty four hours, had forced himself through the adrenaline crash following the raid, and he didn’t know how long it would be before he got to sit down, let alone sleep. He was tempted to cry. 

“Now,” Ben took a deep breath and set the camera on the empty chair, “before I address that again—“ he glanced at her badge “—Ms. Dominguez, would you like some help resettling your patient?” 

She raised her eyebrow, looking him up and down shrewdly. “Call me Catrina,” she huffed and uncrossed her arms with an eye roll, “pick up the camera, and I’ll help you after I check him over.” 

He felt himself relax a little. At least he wouldn’t have to sweet talk her into helping him after all. “Thank you, it really is important that we get these photos as soon as possible.” 

“It’s always important,” Catrina muttered, turning to the John Doe. “Get some gloves and a gown before you even think about touching my patient,” she instructed him sternly. 

Ben didn’t even consider arguing, and did as he was told. After he suited up, he snagged the camera by the strap and stepped to the opposite side of the bed from Catrina, his back to the door. 

Catrina was carefully adjusting the apparatus holding the intubation tube in place, freeing the younger man from the painful pull on his mouth. “Okay, there you go, cariño,” she said softly, almost to herself. He felt his estimation of her go up another notch when she fully addressed the John Doe, her voice only a little louder. “We’re going to turn you now, Mr. Doe, so I can check your chest tube.” 

Ben watched her steady hands as she folded back the blanket and unsnapped the shoulder of Doe’s gown, uncovering the mottled purple skin of his chest. He’d seen it in the nest of course, but the light of the lantern and flashlights had done a poor job of actually showing the damage. In the full brightness of the fluorescent hospital light, the damage was stark and told a story of overlapping misery. With all of the trauma and bruising, Ben felt like it shouldn’t be possible, but he was sure that he could see the impression the heels of his hands had left on Doe’s sternum from where Ben had tried to keep the other man alive. 

He swallowed hard, shaking himself out of his self-recriminations, as Catrina folded the Doe’s arm across his torso in a way that didn’t pose a danger to the other IV lines or drains, and, at her head tilt, he helped her pull Doe on his side so that she had better access. One of his broad palms covered the swell of Doe’s shoulder, the other the jut of his hip over the gown, and Ben tried to ignore the impression of holding eggshell in his hands, conscious of the bones so close to the surface that Ben could feel them shifting. 

The new position revealed the tube Peters had apparently almost ripped out. The white gauze around the chest tube was stained red, and with Ben helping her, Catrina’s hands were free to peel back the bloody bandages to fully reveal the intrusion to Doe’s body. The thick plastic tube was as wide as one of his fingers at the fattest knuckle, protruding from between his ribs with jagged black stitches holding it in place. His stomach swooped at the dark liquid being pulled through the drain, and he shook his head, tsking between his teeth. “You had to replace the chest tube.”  

The brunette nurse looked at him askance, eye brow raised. Her eyebrows were very expressive, Ben noted.  “And how do you know that?” she asked. 

He took a deep breath, gesturing with his chin. “Fresh stitches, and it wasn’t pulling blood at the extraction site.”   

She blinked, connecting the dots, and tilted her head to look up at him through her lashes. “You’re the one who found him.” 

Ben nodded. “My partner and I were the ones who brought him in.” 

“Everyone was talking about how you rode in here on that gurney like a pro,” she acknowledged, her hands never faltering as she re-bandaged her patient and tested the patency of the drain. 

He hummed, unable to find the heart to feel anything other than sad about the circumstances of that story. He did not like having to perform CPR. He especially did not like having to perform CPR on nameless victims. 

Catrina picked up on his somber mood, and dropped the subject.  “That should do it, Mr. Doe,” she said to her patient, “We need to get a better look as some of the injuries, so we’re gonna be moving you, but it shouldn’t take long, okay?” Obviously not expecting an answer, she looked at Ben with a raised eyebrow. “How do you want to do this?”

“Help me move him, and I get photos of all of his injuries. Even the little details can help us break the case.” 

“That’s going to be really stressful on him, Ben,” Catrina said, shaking her head. “He’s got a lot of injuries.” 

They were both silent for a moment, their gloved hands keeping Doe on his side, the rasp of the ventilator filling the air. Ben could see the level of damage that they were dealing with, and it made him nauseous to think about everything else that was hidden by the gown. He knew a lot of it, but there was only so much he’d been able to see at the nest itself. 

“I hear you,” Ben acknowledged, “We’ll do what we can, and you make the call on when we need to stop, okay?” Catrina nodded her agreement. “Since he’s already on his side, let’s get his back.” 

Their hands swapped position, and Ben stepped to the other side of the bed as he fished out the forensic scale from one of the many pockets in his tactical pants. With the blankets pushed down and none of the ties done on the gown, the patient’s entire back was visible, and there was a cold sympathy circling in Ben’s gut as he took a photo of the exposed length of his back and shoulder, motioning Catrina to move her arm out of the shot. Moving closer, he placed the scale against the other man’s skin, taking photos closer and closer. There was a massive bruise across the breadth of his upper back, the green tinges at the edge putting the healing at most a few weeks old. If Ben had to guess, it was probably from being slammed into a wall. Or the floor. 

Catrina moved her hand at his gentle nudge, and Ben shifted the scale again, taking a photos of a bullet scar in the John Doe’s shoulder. “How old do you think that is?” he asked quietly. 

The nurse clicked her tongue, pondering. “There’s no telling, a couple of months at least.” 

He nodded, taking pictures of a clearly defined hand print on his bicep. Fitting his hand over the bruises, Ben stretched his fingers, noting that his hand didn’t have quite the reach as Doe’s attacker. “Definitely a male,” he noted under his breath, feeling his eyebrows draw together when he imagined how much force would be necessary to cause bruises that deep. Definitely a vamp, he thought. Tugging away the lingering edge of the gown, Ben got photos of the bruises that trawled along his ribs, placing the scale on several different boot marks. One of the blotchy marks lower on Doe’s side was the impression of the sole of a shoe, a popular brand name etched into his skin. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. 

“You’ll want to get this one,” Catrina interjected, her hand sliding to the back of Doe’s head. 

Stepping around Catrina, he examined where she was indicating, and his stomach bottomed out. The other man’s neck was a symphony of healing bruises, the equidistant fang marks littering up and down the column of his throat, but at the nape of his neck was a bruise on the latter stages of healing. Even as healed as it was, Ben could make out the bite mark. This wasn’t just the penetration of fangs, it was the clear oval of someone’s teeth, the top and bottom of the impression on either side of his neck. 

“Goddamnit,” he cursed, a steady thrum of rage kicking up in his chest. Ben closed his eyes for a moment. Trying to get a rein on his eroding temper. 

That bruise wasn’t just an injury. It was degrading and possessive. Marking. For a vamp to use all of his teeth in an attack like that, when he’d clearly had physical control of the victim. . . Ben could guess some of the reasons for the location of the injury.  He shook off the anger, taking several different photos of the teeth marks, including the ones over his jugular.  

“I think that’s all for this side, he’s got bruises on the opposite hip and leg, but you can get pictures of those when he’s laying back down.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ben responded, following Catrina’s instructions as he helped her role him back to his supine position. Ben’s hands were shaking slightly as he helped Catrina unsnap the rest of the gown hiding Doe’s torso, and he consciously stilled them. It didn’t matter that peeling back that flimsy material was like peeling away the curtain on a horror show, it had to be done. With Catrina’s help, he removed the white gauze hiding the incisions that had been made, both old and new, that covered the massive trauma that was John Doe’s existence. There were more openings to his body than should have ever occurred: drains and tubes tunneling into his torso; IV’s and catheters pumping him full of fluids, medications and fresh blood; incision and stitched stab wounds that introduced staples and stitches in varying sizes. It was a travesty of cruelty and pain that stripped Ben’s heart to the marrow. 

He did what he could to preserve the John Doe’s modesty, but Ben took every photo that he could to document the injuries that littered Doe’s wrecked frame. Too many to focus on, unexplainable bruises and abrasions, the unwritten history of torment. 

Ben could tell that the younger man had taken care of himself before being taken, the lingering muscles in his chest and stomach speaking of someone who had been in shape before captivity. But what he had gone through was wasting him, making Doe appear fragile and weak with every mechanical breath as his chest rose and fell. “God bless, sweetheart,” Ben muttered, the flash blinding him again as he captured the image of the huge bruise that engulfed Doe’s hip and thigh, crawling down to his knee. The swollen tissue there was clearly painful, telling of a lot of damage. “What’s this injury?” Ben asked, looking at Catrina. 

She stood at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched her patient and the monitors for signs of distress. “Torn ligaments and muscle damage.” Stepping forward, she unvelcroed the compression devise from around his calf, stripping it down to his foot. “You’re going to want a picture of that too,” she said, tone dark as she revealed a black hand print on her patient’s ankle. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Ben spat. The headache he’d been ignoring flared to life with a vengeance, and he pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, blinking forcefully to force away the pain. This guy had been through so much shit, and Ben wasn’t even done taking pictures. 

“Are you alright?” Catrina asked, grabbing him by the shoulder.  

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just been a shit 48 hours.” He shook her off, taking pictures of the dark marks around his ankle. They looked like they were the same size as the ones on his arms, but they’d have to get an accurate measurement later. 

From there, he had Catrina help him remove the bandages and splint around his wrists and hands, taking more photos of the damage there. He noted the overlapping finger marks from where he’d either been held down or held in place, and carefully, he traced the lines that wrapped around his wrists, the rough scabs and deeper abrasions from too tight cuffs. “You’re a fucking fighter, Bambi,” Ben muttered, splaying Doe’s long, nimble fingers over the blanket to get photos of his regrowing fingernails. 

Catrina scoffed under her breath, already working on recovering and rebandaging her patient, “you can say that again.” 

The last thing Ben took photos of was Doe’s face. Which was the opposite of the procedure that he normally followed, making sure the victim came before their injuries, but desperate, overworked times. 

Doe’s features were slack, the intubation tube resting on dry, cracked lips. The delicate skin of his face was peppered with bruises, the arch of one cheek bone split, a sharp angle from some kind of corner marring the otherwise unmarked expanse of his forehead in green tinged memory. His thick, dark lashes were fanned over the purple half-moons under his eyes, the color so deep Ben wasn’t sure if they were from a black eye or lack of rest.

Examining the bruises scattered across the bottom of his face, Ben squinted and found the shape of the black marks even under the apparatus holding the breathing tube in place. 

More finger marks. 

He didn’t have the energy to curse again. There weren’t words for what had been done to Doe. All Ben could do was finish taking pictures. 

When he straightened from his stoop over the bed, Ben’s vision swam, and Catrina’s firm grip on his elbow steadied him, kept him from toppling over. “Damn...” he groaned, pressing against his temple, head splitting open with the fury of its ache. 

“When was the last time you ate something, Ben?” Catrina asked, her quick, accented speech softening slightly as she pushed him toward the empty chair. 

“Um?” The noise was more than a little sheepish, and he rubbed the back of his neck, plopping down into the chair without resistance as his legs tried to give out under him. “Does it mean that my memory is shit if I can’t remember or just that it was that long ago?” 

She rolled her eyes, pressing him forward until his elbows rested on his knees and his head was hanging. “Stay there, don’t pass out, I’ll be right back.” In a blur of blue scrubs and yellow gown , Catrina left the room. Leaving Ben alone with her patient, the quiet beeps of monitors, and the steady pump of the ventilator. 

After a few seconds, the dark vertigo inducing throb of his head let up, and Ben lifted his face out of his hands. “Well, pumpkin,” he said, addressing the still form on the bed, “I hope you’ll forgive the lack of professionalism.” He smiled sadly, rolling closer so that he could take Doe’s hand between his own. “It’s been a hell of a long day, you know?” 

Ben studied the other man’s face, looking past the bruises and tubing to the person beneath. He was handsome, whoever he was, the dark hair and pale skin contrasting to make him stand out rather than blend in. The faint beginnings of lines around his eyes made him seem like someone who was used to smiling. Someone Ben would’ve liked to know. 

He remembered those striking green eyes and how they’d stared at he and Kincaid—the vivid emerald color enunciated by the broken capillaries, probably a result of the blow that cut his cheek bone, creating a stain of red on the background of white. The fear that had no business being in his gaze. What kind of hell have you been through, sweetheart? 

The knowledge that this John Doe was a witch just amplified the horror that Ben was feeling. The fact that, in another life, this could be Kincaid in that bed.  Used as a plaything, as a junkie’s source, until he was a shell of who he really was—with no one knowing who he was or where he came from?—it killed him. This guy was clinging to life with blood coated tenacity, and no one even knew his fucking name.

Ben had no idea how long this guy had been held, the bruises not even a clear outline of what had been done to him. Vampire venom was an anticoagulant, amongst other properties, and most every vampire victim Ben had come across was anemic. It made for interesting bruising history, the marks of captivity and abuse lasting for weeks longer than they should. 

His teeth were grinding together, and Ben loosened the clench in his jaw, letting his frustration out in a shaky exhale. Fuck, he thought, I’m tired. 

It didn’t take long for Catrina to come back, and Ben looked up in time to accept the small box of apple juice and crackers from her. “Thanks,” he said, rolling away from her patient, far enough he was comfortable moving his gloves and mask to suck on the straw under her hawk eyed gaze. 

“Don’t mention it,” she said, another expressive movement of her eyebrows indicating that it really would be better forgotten. 

Catrina busied herself with her patient while Ben made sure he didn’t pass out, moving smoothly around the room to check a beeping drip and taking a new blood sugar. Ben watched her, fatigue coming for him in heavy waves. 

“What’s his prognosis?” he asked, the question slipping free while he rubbed at his blurry eyes. He had to ask it for his report, even if he knew the likelihood that it was a good answer was a nullity. Plus, there weren’t any loved ones here to ask, to worry about him, so Ben would have to do. 

The nurse looked at him, her dark eyes holding a well of emotion at bay.  “Not good,” she answered, voice solemn. “I’m going to give my report to Anna in about fifteen minutes at shift change if you want to sit in, she hasn’t been on with him yet so she’s going to get a full run down, but in short, not good.” She sighed, adjusting the pillow behind Doe’s head, breaking her gaze with Ben. “He’s having seizures, we suspect an anoxic brain injury.” 

The words hit hard. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” he hissed, running his hands over his face and burying his fingers in his hair. Fuck. 

Anoxic brain injuries were caused by lack of oxygen. Commonly occurring during CPR. Which Ben gave Doe when he crashed in the ambulance. 

“Ben,” Catrina’s voice was adamant, she crossed to where he was sitting, her bright purple shoes invading his eye line as she put her hand on his shoulder.  “We don’t know how serious it is yet. It’s been, what? Eighteen hours since your raid? He’s been through emergency surgery and anesthesia and a whole lot of other things since he’s been here, but there’s still a lot we don’t know. You didn’t do this to him, okay?” 

He wanted to believe her. Logically, he knew that he didn’t do anything wrong. There was no way for him to do CPR better, no way for him to have gotten them to the hospital faster. The witch was so heavily injured at the nest that moving him was a risk, but it was a risk that they had to take. They couldn’t have left him there any longer, and he was going to crash whether they were there or not. It just so happened that Ben and Kincaid were able to get him help when it happened. There was no other option. 

So, logically, he knew he did everything he could. But. . . what could he have done better? 

Ben nodded, taking a shaky breath. It took a minute for his next words to come, but when they did, they evaporated from his tongue with a whisper. “He was conscious at the extraction,” his shoulders curled in, “he could answer questions. . . he was awake.” Her shoes blurred into a smear of purple, and he sniffed, swallowing hard against the tears. He was so fucking tired. 

Catrina’s inhale was soft, surprised, and her hand tightening  on his shoulder. 

“You know what that raid was for?” he asked, tipping his head up to look at her face. Even if it wasn’t openly stated in the reports, a lot of people would put two and two together. It just took a person who actually believed that there was the supernatural out there. 

At Catrina’s nod, he lowered his gaze again, feeling a tear slip down to dampen his mask. He closed his eyes, the scene playing out behind his eyelids. “Raids are these brief, staccato clips. They move so fucking fast, and you have to piece everything together afterward.” He shook his head, sighing heavily. “I haven’t. . . haven’t gotten the chance to do that yet.” 

Catrina didn’t press him, didn’t stop him either. She settled on her knee. Patient. Expectant. 

Ben swallowed, chest heavy. “When we first breached the building. . . “ he stared, words wet and slow, “there was this barrage of humans and vamps trying to get out. Until, just, one second to the next—“ he made a poof motion with his hand, “—they were just gone. I don’t know what happened, how they got out.” His eyes were wide, unseeing, and he didn’t feel his body shaking. “There were a few stragglers, but otherwise it was this dark silence that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

“After every corner, we expected there to be a hoard of them ready to pounce on us. Every sense was on high alert for any noise, some small—“ his face screwed up in search of the right word, “—animal corner of your mind trying to feel where the predator was going to come from. Our teams cleared most of the compound by the time we made it up to the clinic, but so much was still unknown.” His breath hitched, and he let go of his hair, his hands falling between his knees. Shaking. “We didn’t have any idea what we were walking into, really. There wasn’t much to it, just some curtains and medical supplies. It was innocuous.” 

He paused again, licking his lips behind the mask. Nose not quite stuffed enough to miss the medicinal smell of the disposable shield. “The other rooms on the floor were all empty, everywhere you expected someone to be was empty. So when we heard the machines, it was just background noise. Enough to know we needed to be on guard, but we were on guard anyway.

“We have these flashlights on the ends of our guns,” he said, waving a hand in vague explanation,” and the lights jump around, create these jerky splashes of light and shadow on the walls. They’re useful, but it also makes you jumpy as hell.” Another tear slipped free, dripping down to plop quietly onto the sleeve of his crinkly, yellow gown. “When we pulled back that curtain. . . I think the only thing that saved him was the fact that he couldn’t move.” Shame flushed through him, and his bit his lip, throat closing up over his words as he fought to explain himself. “None of us expected to see someone in that clinic. In the cells below? Sure. In the quarters with the vamps? Yeah. But for some reason, we all expected that clinic to be empty once we got up there.”

Ben blew out a choked breath, almost a sob, tucking his chin against his chest before he continued.

“The sinking feeling that went through my gut when I saw that figure on the bed. Fuck. For a second, everybody just froze.” Logically, Ben knew that he should be filtering his words. That he should stop. That Catrina didn’t need to hear about how scared her patient was when he was found, or what it did to Ben to see him like that, but the words wouldn't stop. “He was so scared. Hands flat—“ Ben flattened his own for a second in demonstration, “—on the bed like he could be any threat to anyone in the condition that he was in, like he wasn’t already strapped down and helpless” 

Catrina’s breath caught, and he saw her gloved hand go shakily to her mouth. 

“I’ve got a lot of training,” he wiped at his eyes, looking into Catrina’s dark eyes, unsurprised to find tears there too, “enough to know that how they were treating him. . . “ He shook his head, unable to put it into words. She would know better than he would anyway.  “He was too weak to talk, but the way he looked at us. . . “ Tears were choking him, and he couldn’t get a full breath. “And now. . . now. . .” 

He wasn’t expecting the arms pulling him in, the warmth of Catrina’s embrace, but he gave in to it all the same. His head rested heavily on her shoulder, her gloved hand on the back of his hair, the latex pulling slightly at the short strands there. Her breaths weren’t steady either, and he heard her cursing quietly under her breath, her voice shaking. 

When they pulled apart, Catrina looked him dead in the eye, her hand tight on his bicep. “It wasn’t your fault, okay?  What he needs, now, is for us to take care of him and for you to find out who did this, and who he is. Find where he belongs, right?” Another tear escaped, her mascara smudged underneath her eyelashes. 

Ben nodded, sniffling quietly before he rubbed his tears away with the back of hand. “Yeah. . .” he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders, “yeah, we’re gonna find who did this.” 

They both looked over to the John Doe, his unconscious figure unchanged from where Catrina had left him. 

Ben was going to find who did this if it was the last thing he ever did. 

[sparkexplosive]

Sentiment [Izuku Midoriya] ; 04

Precious Chapters in Sentiment [Izuku Midoriya] SERIES

Warning: Violence; everyone copes differently. 

Word Count: 2,037

The sun was shining through your curtains making the rays light up the room, by a little, by little.

You hid underneath your fluffy big blanket glaring at the window. With the sun shining outside, it felt like it was mocking your misery. The black circles around your eyes made you look like a raccoon. You cover your head once again and see the trash can filled with used tissues and empty tissue boxes.

Last night, You couldn’t stop crying all night but you didn’t make noise so you wouldn’t have your mom more worried than she already was, because of the noise of you flipping your room upside down out of frustration and the overwhelming shame holds within your heart.

Your mother has too much on her plate to worry about and you wouldn’t want to add more onto it. You are gonna get through this by yourself. You shattered the mirror in your room out of anger of just looking at your reflection. 

You had slammed your bedroom door closed and throwing your backpack onto the ground with a loud grunt. You turn around to make eye contact with your reflection seeing your eyes are puffy red, with a trail of tears down your cheek down to the chin. Your lip split open, because of the fangirls fight. 

You could feel the heavyweights on your chest. It was almost suffering. You knew what it was. 

Guilt.

You were incredibly stupid believing you would never fall in love with Midoriya. 

You deserve it. 

‘Who are you are?!’ You angrily thought to yourself as you glaring down at your reflection, as your eyes wander to the taped photobooth stripe of you and Midoriya smiling out of happiness. 

You lost him, because of you being a coward of not telling him. 

Lifting your fist, strive forward feeling the pain on your knuckles with the mirror splits through the glass. You remove your hand before the glass shatters into pieces as they fall upon the ground. You wave your hand to relieve the pain on your knuckles, as you can feel the bruise happening underneath your skin. You are starting to regret punching the mirror, it was out of impulse. 

You just feel ashamed of yourself. This isn’t you for keeping secrets with the people you trust. 

Now, you look down on your bandaged up hand that you put ice on it once everyone fell asleep.

You are the biggest idiot to even accept that rich kid who is well known for playing dirty. You should have known better than to make deal with that dude. You recall the switch of events that you didn’t expect at the time. 

The brown-haired boy leaning against the wall of the classroom with a stupid smirk on his lips looking down at you with pride. 

“You didn’t think I would have some leverage over your head, once you started earning feelings for that boy. Huh.” He snickers seeing your face expression harden. 

“You can imagine how precious the information about the famous All might has a daughter for the underground who want to hurt your old man.” 

Your eyes widened as your blood runs cold, while his grin grew with malicious intent.

“OH! How exciting! So keep up the act, peasant.” He claps his hands together, before walking past you to only abruptly stop and turn his head to your ear. “Or else, you will be hurting the ones you love. This should be considered a threat.”

You grab his arm and glared at his eyes, shoved the envelope into his U.A jacket chest pocket. “Keep the damn check, then. I rather pay the hospital bill with my own damn money and stay with debt.” You spit the words from your lips and walking away with your hands curling into a fist. 

You remember that day so clearly when you wanted to back out, but that bastard threatens you to keep your mouth shut or risk it all in other words. 

You still couldn’t figure out how did he manage to figure it out. The only people who know is your mother, and Midoriya family, which you highly doubt it was the case.

Perhaps it was when you were hanging with Class A too much, but it can’t be it. You mostly spent your time there to give other advice on how to improve your costumes and fixing minor errors on Midoriya's new equipment that he was testing out. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Do you want some food or something? Mom is asking from downstairs.” Your little sister popping her head in your room, before her eyes widen at the horror of your so-called room. 

The destruction of your room is horrifying to your sister due to the flipped table, chair, and papers mixed with blueprints laying on the ground. 

You pop your head out a little to reveal your raccoon eyes. “No, thanks. Now get out!” 

Your sister closes the door behind her with a slam, as a scream happens behind your closed door. “MOM! [NAME] IS GOING NUTS!” 

You just rolled your eyes at your sister being dramatic and returning to your haven for the moment so you can cry and think about your horrible actions that lead you to be here. You are thankful that its the weekend, so you don’t have to step in the U.A Academy property until, the incoming week. 

You just know you are gonna receive hell at school, which you deserve. 

You just dig a hole and bury yourself inside of it. 

The guilt and sadness are eating you alive. 

 You already felt guilty of lying to Midoriya of the reason why you asked him in the first place earlier the week. 

You could have told him the truth, but no. You continued to lie.

Midoriya was laying on top of you as you were in your pajamas with his head laying on your chest and his arm was wrapped around you. You were running your fingers through his hair. Your nails scratching his scalp almost leading him to fall asleep. 

It felt like a protective blanket whenever he wraps his arm around you. It is an unknown feeling. 

A movie was behind played in the background from your laptop. It was completely being ignored. 

A few actions figures of the famous number one Hero, All Might be knocked over on the ground. The two of you find yourselves locking lips. Midoriya was hovering you using one hand to keep his weight off you as best of possible while cupping your cheek. You had your arm around his neck to keep him from moving away. You were slightly pulling on his hair as your lips moved in sync with his.  

However, your make-out session with your boyfriend was cut short due to surprise visits from his classmates. It was Ojirou came over knocking on his door to borrow his notes for something. 

The moment when his door was being knocked softly, the memory would stay in your brain of the look of horror reaction. Similar to a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

He immediately fell out of the bed with more messy hair than usual with a stutter. “H-hold on an s-sec-ond.” 

He had forgotten that he was coming over to his door to get the notes from class. He wipes off the extra saliva from his lips. 

You stood up from the bed and hide behind the door when it opens. You weren’t supposed to be in his dorm and especially on the boy's side. However, you have sneaked in so many times that it doesn’t worry you much. Midoriya would cover you if you accidentally make a noise when you are exiting the dorm building.

He hastily grabbed the notebook from his desk waiting for Oijirou to arrive and opens the door. Oijirou grabbing on his notebook and noticing how flustered Midoriya was. He couldn’t help but ask out of concern.  

“Are you alright? Midoriya.” 

You had to cover your mouth at how jumpy Midoriya is. He stutters over his words and tried to act not so suspicious which is failing miserably. It was just too hilarious to watch and hear how he was behaving. You don’t exactly know how the rest of the conversation went since you were too busy trying to stop yourself from laughing at the terrible acting of Midoriya put on. He was a terrible liar. 

He closes the door and puts his back on the door leaning his head back, sighing in relief. 

“You suck at acting.” You whispered to him and grabbing his hand, soon earning a small whine from him.

You pulled him over to the bed and pecking his cheek as an apology, before getting in position to cuddle. Your fingers running through his bushy green hair, as Midoriya had his eyes closed and listening to your heartbeat. 

“[Nickname.]” You hum as response and trying to curl his hair around your finger. 

“Why did you ask me out? When you could have asked anyone else, why me?” He asks softly, as he rolls over to the side and looks at you with his innocent dark green eyes. 

You gulped nervously and turn on your side to make eye contact. 

‘Should I tell him?’

You open your mouth as the words just flow out. “Izu. One, you are super passionate about being a hero and do not give up when obstacles come up. Two, You wouldn’t love your dorky self when it comes to heroes.” Your lips curl up into a smile, lifting your hand to boop his nose. Midoriya faces expression fill with pure surprise. 

“Who wouldn’t fall for your charm of just being yourself, regardless of how they treat you, freckles.” You traced over his freckles in a pentagon shape, it was enough to make him glowing bright red. 

He flips over to cover his face into the pillow, making you laugh at him being all shy and embarrassed. He was fuming smoke from his ear. You just hug him from behind to try to make up your teasing. 

‘You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. Especially the way he was looking at you was filled with trust.’ 

You have to give him space for him to think about it. He deserves it. You had hurt him deeply and had seen how much it is affecting him. 

But you have to pick yourself together and clean up the mess in your room before the week starts knowing it will be hell. 

You gotta move forward for your good, and family even if you burden with the weight of guilt. 

You could distract yourself by creating new blueprints of inventions for the incoming event where all of the support students show off their skills similar to the sports festival. Its the day where all kinds of heroes including firefighters to the police department are gonna be scouting out future employees for their companies.

You couldn’t use something that would you would need…. him. You had to do those ideas in the backburn of your head at the moment. 

It would probably be hard to get someone to agree to be a model of your invention since it's so late in the year along with rumors spreading around you. The chances are very low.   

You would be known as terrible things which include the most you would be an excuse for being a gold digger. 

But you have to make do. 

You can’t continue to self-pitying yourself for the sake of your family not to worry about you. 

You have to worry about what your potential future holds in your employment after graduating. Everything relies on your project for the Invention Event to hold your future. It has been something better of everything you had created so far to stand out from your classmates. 

Slowly enough, Midoriya fades to the back of your mind. As you start drafting out ideas what could be your project.  

_______________________________

I would love to hear any predictions or theories, you guys have!

Feedback is appreciated!

Please be kind within the comments. I hope you are enjoying the story. Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors.

if anyone wishes to be tagged, either send me an ask or comment below this post! Taglist will be in the comments.

[cuppalevi]

Blue Guitar | Chapter 5: Melancholy Man

Series Summary: Leone Abbacchio’s trying his best to get his shit together for Narancia. But when Narancia ends up inviting him to a concert he’s playing for, Leone ends up under the sheets of the popstar, Bruno Buccellati. It turns out dating a popstar has complications. Especially when a certain someone named Diavolo has tricks up his sleeves.

Chapter 5 Summary:   Leone and Narancia bump heads; Giorno, Trish and Mista have fun in the living room and Bruno and Fugo make a trip to the hospital.

Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Pairing: Leone Abbacchio x Bruno Buccellati

AO3 | Previously | Masterlist

“You did what?!” Trish gaped at Mista, momentarily shifting her attention to Giorno’s nail to Mista who was sitting beside her on the floor.

The coffee table was pushed up against the wall-- providing a big space for Giorno, Mista, and Trish to occupy the carpeted floor. Mista had practically thrown all the pillows to the floor, laying down a massive blanket to cover the three of them as a bunch of bowls filled with snacks lie in front of them.

The house was filled with the gang. Bruno and Fugo were at the office, discussing which songs were to be added or removed from their setlist for their next gig. Trish, Giorno, and Mista stayed in the living room. Trish was painting a dark deep blue base color on Giorno’s nail, which the blonde admired. The television was playing Pretty Woman per Mista’s request-- even if they have seen it a hundred times already.

Bruno called the boys over to keep Trish company this afternoon and because their supposed lunch was canceled. They got along with Trish pretty well and felt protective of her considering there’s a dark shadow lurking around Naples right now. Earlier on, he received a text message from Leone saying that he successfully bailed Narancia out of the juvenile detention center for a crime he apparently did not commit.

“Nobody wanted them so I took them!” Mista shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Do you really think you have the capability of taking care of six monk parakeets?” Trish raised a brow at the drummer, withdrawing from Giorno’s hand that she successfully painted on. She screws the cap of the dark blue nail polish back onto the bottle, nodding to herself in approval as she checks the state of Giorno’s nails.

Giorno scoffed, splaying out his hands to look at the lacquer on his nails. Trish had done a superb job on his manicure. “The birds are really talkative as well. He calls them the Sex Pistols.”

Giorno and Mista began dating a couple of months after Mista became Bruno’s drummer. Giorno was only a year younger than Mista. They kept their relationship under wraps for a few months but when Trish walked in on them making out like horny teenagers, their secret relationship was not-so-secret anymore. Although Giorno usually stayed at Mista’s apartment, the drummer felt a tad lonely whenever he wasn’t with the presence of his boyfriend. Recently, Mista adopted six yellow feathered monk parakeets-- much to the pet owner’s surprise that somebody adopted not only one but six monk parakeets. Least to say, the drummer has grown very attached to them afterward.

“Really?” Trish hummed in amusement as she shook a bottle of a gold glitter topcoat polish in her hand.

“They aren’t that talkative! And I for one love calling them Sex Pistols. ” Mista defended with a huff, crossing his arms. He fiddles with his hat, “And besides, I’ve only taught them to call my name and to tell me when they’re hungry.”

Giorno and Trish stifled a laugh, imagining a bunch of birds flying around Mista’s apparent chirping the drummer’s name as they flapped their wings.

“Oh, Trish, you think you could do my nails?” Asked Mista, looking back and forth his two hands to check out his nails. “No nail polish though, just like trim them down and file them.”

Trish squealed, grabbing Mista’s hand in hers. “You’re gonna need more than just trimming and filing, hon.” Trish has always been itching to do something about Mista’s nails-- seeing as the drummer didn’t care for them as much.

“Guys,” Bruno called, going down the stairs with a hand sliding along the rail. “Fugo and I are gonna visit Narancia at the hospital. You guys stay here and don’t go out.”

“Oh? What’s happened with Narancia?” Mista tilted his head in curiosity with a raised eyebrow.

Fugo releases a sigh, following behind Bruno. “Told us he caught some eye disease. It’s pretty bad.”

Earlier on, Fugo received a text from Narancia saying that he was admitted to the hospital-- per Leone’s demand. The raven-haired teen asked Fugo to visit him and bring him chocolates and requested that he bring Bruno as well. It was a shock to Bruno to hear that Narancia was in the hospital. Immediately, he insisted that he and Fugo go visit the guitarist and see how he was doing. The added bonus was that Bruno would get to see Leone again.

“Stay safe then,” Giorno spoke up, “We’ll stay here until you guys get back.”

“Lock the doors and close the windows. You call me once something goes wrong, okay? That’s an order.” Bruno looks back at Giorno and Mista. A silent communication goes between them before the two nod their heads. Trish bids goodbye to Bruno and Fugo before they stepped out of the door, leaving the three alone in the house.

“You lot are getting overprotective,” Said Trish with a sigh, her hands fiddling with the hem of the duvet.

“It’s for your safety,” Giorno replied, nudging the girl softly with his elbow. “Buccellati cares for you a lot. We all do.”

“Bruno’s freaked out. He doesn’t say but I can just tell. All I saw was Doppio and here he is making sure you guys stay by my side.”

During the course of the day, Trish would sneak subtle glances at Bruno. Sometimes, she’d catch him with a frown and a disoriented look on his face-- deep in his thoughts. It’s no joke that Bruno’s shaken up. It’s been ages since her father had made any moves against them and only now have they decided to act. There was no way Bruno could go on about his day without worrying about their safety. Afterall, Trish’s father was a dangerous man.

Mista drapes an arm around Trish’s shoulders, “Doppio’s a threat just as much as your father is. If he comes for you, he’ll have to go through us .”

Trish looks at Giorno and Mista with adoration shining in her eyes who sat by her sides, making her sandwiched between the two males. She nodded her head, determination set on her face as she said her next words.

“We won’t go down without a fight.”

--

“Aw, you brought me chocolate! Thanks, Fugo!” Narancia grinned happily as he accepted the bar of chocolate from Fugo. The boy sits on a chair beside Narancia’s bed, leaning back as he looks at the bandage wrapped around his head that was covering his left eye.

“If you lose your eye you get to wear those cool black eye patches that’ll make you look like a pirate,” Fugo smirked at the teenager, trying his best to cheer him up despite the situation he was in.

Narancia scoffed, “Oh yeah? If I were to be a pirate what would you be?”

“Why, your first mate, of course.”

Bruno crossed his arms and watched the two teenagers admirably with a smile on his face. He was sitting beside Leone who was staring into his cheap cup of coffee which he got from the hospital cafeteria.

“How long are you staying here for?” Asked Fugo as he took the piece of chocolate from Narancia’s hand that the raven-haired teen offered him.

“Three weeks at most.”

Fugo’s brows creased, “Then that means you won’t be able to play for the show this upcoming week?”

Narancia frowned, “I can play. I can discharge early-”

“There’s no chance you’re getting discharged early,” Leone protested, the chair scraping on the floor as he stood up. “You’re going to stay here and heal.”

To Narancia, it sounded more like a demand than a request. “Oh yeah? Then you go and play the guitar, old man.” Narancia rolled his eyes, jeering at Leone with a glare on his face.

Leone held back a scoff, choosing the turn away and glare at the wall instead. The man huffs, angrily combing through his hair as if to try and calm himself down. Bruno felt the unwavering tension between the two, wondering what has happened. Narancia wasn’t his usual jovial self around Leone today-- Bruno noticed. Narancia and Leone were still bothered by their argument earlier.

“What were you even doing late out at night?”

They’ve arrived back at the apartment after a long walk of Leone scolding Narancia for his irresponsibility. When Leone arrived at the station, he was immediately overwhelmed by memories crashing his mind. How his young, determined self, used to work in that goddamn place-- seeking justice. A few of them recognized him and the way they stared at Leone was as if they were shooting daggers at his back (As if Leone didn’t already have to shoulder the burden of the death of his partner). He avoided their stares, looking straight ahead, walking towards the desk up front, and asked for Narancia Ghirga.

“I was bored! You were gone with Buccellati for ages having the time of your life and I was just here without anything to do!” The teenager stomped through the living room with crossed arms, taking his place on the couch.

Leone’s brows lifted in surprise, taken aback by Narancia’s words. “Excuse me? This is not about me and Bruno, Narancia. That doesn’t change the fact that you got arrested-”

“BUT I DIDN’T DO IT!” Narancia screamed, “You don’t even believe me!”

The teenager was pulling at the roots of his hair. Frustration and stress filled up every fiber of his bones. The state of his eye wasn’t making it any better. When he was being interrogated, the investigator ended up punching him in the face because he wouldn’t fess up. But Narancia didn’t know what to say because he literally had no part in stealing the jewelry. Spending the night in a cold dark cell with little to no food and a very uncomfortable bed was not how he imagined his night would go. Narancia’s never felt that alone in his life, sitting there in the darkness, wondering what the fuck he got himself into.

“Hey, now, I never said that!” Leone’s feet pounded on the floor with each step he took to approach Narancia. “If you hadn’t gone outside then this wouldn’t have happened. I’ve told you plenty of times not to wander around during the dark.”

“Well, I wasn’t just gonna stay in this forsaken apartment the whole night! You took my video games after all!”

The two were now face-to-face, glaring at each other. If looks could kill, they’d both be dead this instant. Both of them were fuming, each wanting to defend their side to this sticky situation. If they had screamed any louder, their neighbors would have been knocking on their door asking if they were okay. Leone and Narancia bickered most of the time and although Leone would reprimand the teenager for his childish actions sometimes, they wouldn’t go as far as to roar at each other’s throats.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“I’m trying to look out for you! Would it kill you to stop acting like a goddamn child for once?!”

Narancia growled, anger bursting through his veins. Me? A child?, Narancia thought, internally rolling his eyes. As much as he was grateful for Leone looking after him and being there for him when nobody else did, it annoyed him that Leone still thought of him as a young, naive child with no clue whatever the fuck he’s doing. He’s practically grown up now. Moody Blues stepped down from the window sill, disturbed from the two males' booming voice. The cat walks in between the two as if to try and get them to stop. But they paid no mind to the cat.

“I didn’t even ask you to look out for me, Abbacchio! It was your choice to take care of me!” Narancia shoved Leone back, gritting his teeth. “You can’t keep treating me like a child!

At this point, they were just spitting words. Words that probably should have been left unsaid. But frustration clouded their minds too much. Both of them have undergone a huge amount of worry and stress. It just seemed that this was the way they were taking it out on each other. Moody Blues looked back and forth the two, meowing loudly to get their attention. Unbothered, the two ignored the meowing cat in between them. Leone strode closer to Narancia, pointing an accusatory finger at him as he barks at the teenager.

“I’ll stop treating you like a fucking child when you stop acting like one!”

Unlike before, when Leone so much as raised his voice, Narancia would tremble in fear. Gradually, Narancia’s gotten used to Leone’s snarling face and thundering voice because, at the end of fucking something up, he would apologize. But last night, he had nothing to do with. He didn’t know what to say to Leone or even explain the situation when he called the adult at the station to bail him out.

“It’s not like you’re mio padre or something!” Seethed Narancia, smacking away Leone’s hand.

Low blow, kid.

Moody Blues meows loudly, hissing at the two adults. Her tail straight as a stick and her fur sticking out in distress.

“SHUT UP!” Both Leone and Narancia simultaneously shouted at the feline below them.

“OW!” Narancia suddenly cried, reeling back from the pain his left eye has brought upon him. He hisses, hand snapping away the moment he laid a touch on his affected eye. The teenager turns his back on Leone, refusing to let the adult see him like this and hopes that he isn’t questioned.

But Leone wasn’t just going to ignore it.

“What the fuck’s wrong with your eye, Narancia?” Leone grasped the Narancia’s shoulder, pulling him back to look at the said eye.

The two of them were still angry at each other no doubt. A little bit of that searing hot frustration blew away when Leone’s concern for the teenager rose up.

Once Leone surveyed the state of Narancia’s eye, the adult growled. “We’re getting that checked.”

Narancia protested, “What? No, I’m fin-”

“Shut up. We’re getting your eye checked at that’s final.”

“Leone’s right, Narancia.” Said Bruno softly, approaching one side of the teenager’s bed to hold his hand. “Taking care of yourself is your main priority.”

Still, Narancia frowned. “But you guys can’t just play without me and you can’t cancel the gig either.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Fugo spoke up, “That Abbacchio could play guitar for the show.” The teen shrugs his shoulders.

Leone’s eyes widen and he whips his head to Fugo’s direction, ready to reprimand him for thinking such a thing. But before he could, Narancia speaks up again.

“Abbacchio doesn’t know how to play the guitar,” Narancia grumbles, feeling a bit uneasy that his joke was taken seriously.

“He’s right. I don’t know the first thing about the guitar,” The long-haired adult rolls his eyes and crosses his arms-- hoping that the subject of this conversation was going to end soon but alas, fate’s not on his side.

“I could teach him,” Bruno suggests, “And you do need a job right?” He raises an eyebrow pointedly at Leone.

“Are you going to replace me with Abbacchio?” Asked Narancia sadly.

Bruno shakes his head, “No, piccolo, this is just until you get better. It’s better than having to find somebody else to fill in for you.” The singer ruffles the teenager’s hair reassuringly. “Is that okay with you?”

Narancia looks up at Leone-- who turns away once their eyes meet. Figures . “I don’t mind,” He mumbles audibly enough for the whole room to hear. “If it’s really what you guys need, then so be it.”

“This is absurd,” Leone pinches the bridge of his nose, baffled that Narancia would be okay with letting him play the guitar for Bruno. Heck, how on earth is he gonna play the forsaken instrument? He doesn’t even know the basics.

“It’s not that hard, Abbacchio. Once you learn the chords, you can begin to play songs.” Narancia commented nonchalantly.

“Oh yeah and how long did it take you to learn?” Leone bit back at the teen with an incredulous look on his face.

“That doesn’t matter,” Bruno began, “Point is; I’m sure you’d be able to learn quickly if we start as soon as possible.”

The long-haired man groaned, “You’re seriously considering this?”

Bruno nodded his head, “Of course. I’m willing to teach you, Leone. And it’s for Narancia’s sake as well. And who knows? If it works out, you could work for the band as well.”

Leone clicked his tongue, pursing his lips in thought. Bruno was right though. He did desperately needed a job, and he’s already being offered one. But to learn how to play the fucking guitar in probably even less than a week when Narancia’s mastered his for more than years? Unbelievable. Even if Bruno were to teach him, he’s pretty sure he’s going to mess up. And don’t get him started on the number of songs he’s gonna have to memorize the chords for if he does play for Bruno’s show.

It’s for Narancia’s sake. Bruno’s voice echoes in his ears.

Dammit.

“If I do this, promise me you’ll focus on getting better,” Leone answered, looking at Narancia’s direction. “I need you safe. And I have to pay for your hospital bills one way or another,” He sighed, rubbing at the temple of his forehead.

Yup, he’d do anything for this kid.

Narancia nodded, “I promise and I’m sorry, Abbacchio.” He trained his gaze down and began fiddling with the foil of the chocolate bar.

Oh fuck it all, Leone’s inner voice shouted.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

< To Be Continued I \ I |

[alwaysaglader]

Just Collapse Into Me

(Warning : sad but with a happy ending)

Y/N’s P.O.V

"I know that something is wrong. I know it" I said firmly, my heart beating loudly in my chest as I paced up and down the room. "Y/N... you need to calm down" the voice rang repeatedly in my ears, like it has been for the past couple of minutes.

"It hurts me to think of him being alone and trapped inside his own head, Alby" I sighed, placing my head on my knuckles, pain rising in my chest "cause I know how it feels like".

"Y/N.." Alby started but I blocked him out again. "And I know he is strong. So bloody strong to take care for himself. I know that... it's just that he shouldn't have to, is all".

"Y/N" Alby held my shoulders this time, "we will figure it out together". I let out a soft sigh and looked away with a frown but he bought my gaze by back with two fingers on my chin. "Right now we just need to be with him" he said in a soft tone, and I nodded in agreement as I heard a familiar voice boom through the hall way.

"SHE BEAN" the runner's voice echoed before he engulfed me in a tight hug, rubbing his stinky sweat all over me. "Ben!!" I squealed while giggling excited to see him, also knowing they were all back safe and sound, "how was your day buddy?".

"Amazing" he chuckled, as I rolled my eyes playfully at him. "Where's are the others?" I asked still trying to push him off while Alby let out a chuckle too. "Still in the map room" he said with a sly smirk before he gave me a push and ran away yelling, "race you there", making me squeal at him again before catching up right after a quick wave to Alby.

Newt's P.O.V

"Can we just call it a night? Work on this tomorrow morning?"I asked annoyed with the fact that we've been sitting here for what seemed like hours. "Newt listen, we're really getting closer to finding a way out. I think if we-" I cut him off not being able to take it anymore.

"Yeah Minho? We're close to finding our way out? You've been here for over 3 years and so have I. I'm tired and I've been running all day. Us getting out of here can wait another day because it's waited another day for the past three years. I'll be up at our usual time. Goodnight." I didn't mean to snap but I did. I walked out leaving him shocked with my actions though.

I stomped off angrily to the showers only to come back after a while to find Y/N leaning on the door post of my room waiting for me. “Hey” I gave a small wave and walked past her to lay my clothes on the chair to dry out. I felt shucking messed up.

"Hey Newtie" I felt her arms wrap around, hugging me tightly. "I heard you were snappy today" she mumbled with her soft voice, head peeking over my shoulder. "I didn't mean to snap I was just really tired and annoyed. I'll apologize to Minho" I said turning around to see her beautiful yet worried face gazing at me.

"Don't worry. Minho will get over it" she said placing her hand on my cheek to which I nuzzled to, “just wanted to know if you were alright?”. I stiffened. “I’m fine” I brushed her off and walked past her to my bed.

“Do you want to head off to the bonfire ? I heard Fry's got something new whipped together" I heard her footsteps behind me, jumping on her tippy toes but my dangerous thoughts were swirling in my head tearing me apart, silencing my words.

"I think I'll skip it love" I managed to say tiredly, turning around, "I'm just gonna lay down. You can go ahead”, but she frowned slightly with a little shake of her head, and simply said, "not without tucking you to the bed Newtie".

I inhaled sharply, hesitating for a couple moments before nodding my head, and lying down on my back, pulling the blanket over myself as Y/N grabbed a chair and sat next to my bed as I laid silently with my eyes closed hoping to fall asleep at least tonight.

"Y/N you’re missing the bonfire" I heard another voice pop into my room and I heard her refuse the offer as one of her hands occupied themselves brushing through my strands while I started drifting off to sleep, her free hand gently interwinding with mine, her thumb gently tracing my calloused skin.

It felt like medicine for my body and soul. Heart and mind.

Y/N's P.O.V

I watched him sleeping, soft and cocooned in his blanket, his little snores whistling through his parted lips, my mind trying to find a memory that looked so innocent and pure to combat the nightmares.

"Newt, I know you aren't feeling alright...” I said in just above a whisper, the back of my knuckles down his cheek, tracing his jaw with finger light tenderness, “and I just want you to know that I'm always here for you".

"And that you matter so much to me, and seeing you hurt is like a stab to my heart... so please let me help you” my bottom lip quivered, “it doesn't matter if I cut myself on your broken pieces, cause you matter more to me than myself”.

"I care so bloody much about you...that the thought of losing you..." I pursed, stopping a few tears that had already appeared in them from falling.

Deep inside, I understood Newt. Because I had felt the exact same way - sad, depressed and broken and it killed a part of who i was everyday and I wouldn't let Newt go through it alone.

I look at him and I can see it in his face. He thinks he can hide it but I can see it. I see the hurt, the dark circles beneath his eyes and the quiet pleas on his lips, too afraid to be voiced, too afraid to be heard.

I look at him and see the pain in his fake smile, and I smile back, hearing the attempted deception when he tells me he's just tired. All I want to do is hold him close to me, wrap my arms around him and tell him that everything is going to be alright.

“Just stay with me Newt" I whispered with a broken voice, before leaving with a gentle kiss to his forehead, "I'll miss you so bloody much if you don't"

Time skip to morning

Newt's P.O.V

I woke up my feeling dizzy and remembering something that seemed to be liked a part of a dream. I had a glimpse of Y/N in my head as I tried to recall last night but my head was too shucked up for me to even think straight, I was drowning myself with no way out. I was sick and tired of myself. Of everything.

But I couldn't show it so per usual I managed to put on a masked face over my real emotions as I readied myself and took off on my planned route for the day according to Minho's instructions.

---

The sun was almost beginning to set, when I had to stopped myself from the run and lean against a wall, too mentally tangled in myself. My thoughts had been consuming me the entire day, suffocating me of any ray of hope I had and it was worsening by the minute.

I thought about it deeply, we had been here for over 3 years. I map the maze everyday, looking for a way out, mapping out the routes I took hoping to find something different one day. And it killed me inside to always say no to everyone who asks for a solution. Specially Y/N.

I wanted to get her out of here more than anything else. I wanted to give her everything she deserved, which was the whole bloody world... but I couldn't and it killed me knowing I never could. And being this messed up person made me feel like a burden to her. A bloody probelm she had to deal with every shucking day.

I groaned in frustration, and punched the thick wall a couple of times, my knuckles turning red, but I couldn't care less about the pain cause I wanted everything to end. I sighed and kept my head against the wall, tears draining down my face. "Please make it stop".

A sudden absolute cold shot through me, making me shiver when I realised I could. My chest tightened and tears started burning my eyes at the thought in my head. I took a few steps back away from the wall and looked up, moving my hand to take hold of a bit of ivy close by, and then another and before I knew it I was climbing up the wall, tears pouring out my eyes, my body finding strength it never had, like it wanted to reach it's end soon enough.

I was drenched in sweat and my hands were shaking by the time I got to the top, where the ivy ended. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath knowing I was about to end all this. All the pain. All this suffering. All the burden which no one would have to deal with. This was the way. The only way.

I took in a deep breath and readied myself for the leap but before I did I closed my eyes for a brief second, but the last thing that flashed to my blurry mind was Y/N.

Clear as crystal. Her face and her last smile flashed in my mind. I felt her kiss on my head, her hand holding mine and her words echoed in my mind. It wasn't a blurry vision anymore, it was something that happened last night. "Just stay with me" I heard Y/N's words repeat in my head,"I'll miss you".

My heart thumped rapidly in my chest, as I gained my senses, my mind focused on just simply Y/N. She was my my life, my voice, my reason to be. My love, my heart is breathing for her. I had to live for my angel.

I lifted my foot shakily taking a step away from the edge to back away but my other foot slipped off by accident, tangling on the some vines, and I fell the long way down, landing on the floor with a thud letting out a blood-curdling, agonized scream through the air and the last thing I remember before I was enveloped by darkness was hearing my name being called... by Minho.

Time skip to evening

Y/N's P.O.V

My voice was weak and cracked every now and then from the sobs I was holding back. Tears threaded to blur my vision as I ran a shaky hand over Newt’s hair. Usually it was fluffy and soft – but now it was all sweaty and stick to his forehead which was wrinkled by jolts of pain as Clint moved his ankle back to its place.

Newt had stopped screaming in agony and pain like he did when Minho dragged him back to the Glade but he wouldn’t stop mumbling incoherently. It was almost like he was in some kind of trans – Clint said it may be because of the shock his body couldn’t take. “I think his bone is broken,” Clint murmured, drops of sweat oozing on his eyebrow, a frown of concentration on his face. He pressed again and Newt cried out loudly.

“Yeah, it surely is… It’s disangled. I have to pop it back. Clint take his arms and push him back! Jeff, help him!” I ordered immediately while we took our places. New-coming blow of energy spread through Newt’s body as Jeff stepped next to Clint as they tried to force him back to the bed while I re-positioned it.

His screams ran through the glade before he went silent because of the pain. I let out a sigh as Jeff placed his hand on my shoulder, as Clint bought the medical supplies. I yanked the red box open and pulled out a sterile bandage, a few sterile wipes and a bottle of alcohol while Jeff left to get Alby and Minho to know what actually happened, while Clint and I aided to Newt’s bruises.

Time skip to night

Minho's words kept repeating in my head as I walked back to the Med-jack's hut. I was left to my own thoughts for a few moments, while I tried to sort everything out in my mind: "He jumped Y/N. I saw it".

I halted outside the door for a moment and took in a deep breath when I heard shuffling and soft sniffles, so I hurriedly went inside to a disheveled and exhausted-looking Newt in the cot. I looked at him as he sat, just staring down at his feet, right ankle which was shucked up for good.

My feelings and thoughts overwhelmed me in that one moment, and the love I felt for him as well as the sadness came boiling over as I took a few large steps over to his cot before engulfing him in a tight hug.

He hissed in pain as his collarbone and ribs complained, so I let his grip go a bit but I still clung tightly to him. I could feel his skinny frame shaking, so I hugged him back comfortingly, rubbing his back as I whispered, “It’s alright, Newt. You’re safe”.

When the two of us separated, I smiled weakly and pressed a delicate kiss to the tip of his nose as bit he lip and tried to look away, but I wouldn’t let him. “I-I’m s-sorry, I-” he stumbled over his own words, his own tears trickling over his cheek, down to his jawline. I frowned, and wiped his tear away before I softly grabbed his wrists gently into my hand to hold him.

I didn't know what to say, so I continued to hug him gently. "I'm sorry" Newt's bottom lip trembled as he tried to keep himself from crying more, but I shook my head and opened my arms embracing him. Without saying something, but just with some tears, did he nuzzle himself deep into my chest, in for a comforting cuddle.

"Shhh.. it's alright" I told him just above a whisper. It had been so long and he'd had such a hard day, a hard life. I felt him strong arms pull me closer as he buried his face deep into my neck, tears dripping on me.

"I'm sorry I'm bloody messed up. And I'm so sorry I cannot fix it, Y/N. I'm so I-I-I- tried to... " Newt's cries faltered into sniffles as lowered his arm to wrap it around my waist to hold me close for dear life.

"I-I- I hate everything Y/N" he whispered with a tremble in his voice, "My mind feels like it's about to tear itself apart. I am so tired of myself. I hate every single day I wake up to. We are stuck in hell with no hope. I wanted it to end. I just wanted it to end".

I was quiet thinking it through. It felt like I was desperately trying to hold broken pieces together, but they were slowly slipping through my fingers."Newt, I know you are lost right now” I said silently, as he managed to calm down and his cries softened and became small sniffles, “and I know it terrifies you”.

“It scares you to the core, I understand, but...” I pressed kisses on his hair and on his forehead, “even after everything that’s happened, and there’s been a lot, you are still here. Bloody hell you’re at least trying. And for right now that enough.”

”I'm not the same Y/N” he whispered, with a broken voice and looked at his wrists and thighs, which had scars on them and then his eyes darted off to his ankle. My heart ached again, to have him so broken in my arms.

I gently placed two fingers under his chin and lifted his saddened gaze to meet with mine.  “You may have changed Newt.. but no one stays the same. We all change. You change, I change. And right now you're just going through a really hard time, but that's alright, Newt, it's okay. You'll come out of this stronger than you think”

“And if you think I'm going to leave you, you're wrong. You may not be as happy as you were years ago, but you're still the brown-eyed, goofy Newtie I first saw when I came in that bloody box” I chuckled slightly, making a small smile appear on his face too, “just because you're down every now and then doesn't mean I do not care about you anymore, darling. If I had the chance to do everything over again and again, I’d still cared for you the same” I smiled, while gently stroking his cheeks. "You are not alone in this Newt".

"I'm always here to keep you in arms and protect you from anything that hurts you. I am here when you need someone to talk to or when you need a good, tight cuddle at night. I'm here when you are sad or angry and need comfort. I'm right here for you, day and night" I whispered and peppered kisses on his temple, which helped to calm him down.

A silence fell between us, which we used to get close to each other. "Please tell me to never do this to yourself again" I couldn't help but to release some tears too. It hurts me so much to see him like this, mentally tangled with himself.

I kissed his bandaged wrist like a mother that kisses her children's wounds away. I wanted him to feel better, both emotionally and physically. He has been struggling so much. "I'm grateful for your existence and everything about you" I said and pulled away from the snuggle, so I could look at him. "Just stay with me".

"I promise" he whispered softly, his watery, eyes locked with mine. We looked at each other for a moment, and as I stared into his warm brown eyes, I knew it was going to be a long road for him to feel okay the way he used to.

But I'd be damned if I wasn't there for every single moment. I wanted to be there when he smiled for the first time again, and I wanted to be there when he felt like giving up again. But most of all, I wanted to be there when, someday, he could tell you that he was really, truly okay again.

"Collapse into me. Just once. I promise you'll never have to fall again" I whispered, and rested my head on top of his as a gentle smile made way across his face as he gently nodded at me, a hint of hope twinkling in his eyes.

Newt's P.O.V

I looked at her and felt happiness blooming inside me, as if her eyes were the calm, beautiful morning after a night full of storm. The two of us laid in peace and quiet, as I felt myself beginning to grow extremely tired, and I saw Y/N let out a tired sigh against my chest before a yawn escaped her mouth. I pressed a kiss on her forehead, wrapped my arms tightly around her waist and moved us properly on the bed.

Y/N looked at me, then looked down at my hand, slowly taking it and lacing her fingers with mine. I smiled at her sweet action, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I shuffled closer, hand-in-hand, and lent my head into the crook of her neck, her doing the same.

While holding her protectively against my chest, I pulled her closer as she melted into me, completely at ease as I pressed my lips against her forehead. The feeling of her body pressed against mine - so close that I could feel her heart beating against my own chest - it made me feel whole.

"Thank you." I whispered, feeling my heart pound louder for her as I watched her beautiful eyes flutter close, "for saving me".

Holding her in my arms, listening to her rhythmic breathing, I couldn't help but to love her more than I have ever done. Because she's trying so hard to give me the best she can offer me. And owning her heart of gold that beats just for me, made me realise that I'll never ever want to lose her – I couldn't afford to lose her. Because in this cruel world she makes me feel human.

She showed me one important thing that no one has ever been able to show me before. Not that I was a good leader, smart or kind. None of that. She showed me something more important than any of those things. She showed me that I was important, that there is a reason that you are here. She made me feel like the world was lucky to have me.

She is my hero.

[iesnoth]

How do we cope?

Pre-Infinity War and mid-credits scene

Trigger warnings: mental illness, fighting, discussion of family death

Thor was used to his brother picking fights with him, but this way of doing it was new. Usually, Loki would pester him until Thor threw the first punch, or use illusions to lure him into an ambush, or just poison his mead. But, to his credit, the trickster god had kept his mischief to a minimum onboard the Statesman.

So, in a weird way, Thor was almost relieved when the frazzled attendant had come to inform him that the bubble had burst: Loki was throwing a tantrum in their shared quarters.

The clangs and booms of Loki’s destruction echoed down the angular arches of the hall as Thor approached at a long, firm stride. He’d ordered all the attendants and loiterers out of all the adjoining hallways and rooms. He wasn’t sure what kind of Loki he would be facing off against, and though he hoped it wouldn’t come to violence, wanted to avoid civilian casualties. He peered through the foot-wide gap between the double doors, and a chair and a tray of crystal tumblers hurtled past. Thor cursed under his breath. He should have suspected something was amiss when his brother hadn’t shown up for the weekly council meeting. Loki had been practically attached to Thor's hip unless he ordered his younger sibling to find something more useful to do, but Thor assumed the trickster had finally bored of following him around.

The crashing stopped. Thor guessed Loki heard him, and stepped out from his hiding place.

“Brother--”

He was cut off when Loki slammed into him, forearm to Thor’s neck, pinning the god of thunder to the door. Thor retaliated through muscle memory and served Loki a flat-palmed blow to the chest, thrusting him backward. Loki also recovered quickly and threw a trio of eight-inch knives toward Thor’s head. Thor ducked behind a pillar for cover.

“By Hel itself, Loki!” Thor yelled around the metal column. He grunted as a sofa knocked him from behind the pillar, but he plucked it from the air and used it to absorb still more knives. “If you wanted to spar, you could have just asked!”

Loki looked disheveled and manic. Purple bags rimmed his eyes from lack of sleep, his hair hung in limp tangles, and his jaw jutted forward the way it did when he was particularly bloodthirsty. He was barefoot and was without the cape he wore like a security blanket. Thor hadn’t seen Loki so undone since-- since their mother died.

What was wrong with him? Was he sick and hallucinating some unseen foe? Was he possessed by something? Or perhaps, Thor thought, his nostrils flaring, Loki has felt this way inside for a long time, and I just never noticed.

He kicked the sofa into Loki, knocking him to the ground. Thor was on him in an instant, pulling him to his feet. He held his face with one hand to make his brother meet his eye. “What’s wrong, Loki?”

Loki snarled, and Thor braced himself. He didn’t have enough hands to restrain Loki’s arms as well, and to be honest, if Loki needed to stab him, he didn’t mind. It had been a while since Thor had felt any intense emotion.

But Loki didn’t stab him. His green eyes held Thor’s blue one, flicked over to the leather eye patch, then back to the blue. His brows turning up and he cried out through gritted teeth.

“I’m feeling, brother,” he spat. “Everything you’re not. Everything you suppressed.” He gripped the side of Thor’s head. “And I want you to feel it too.”

Thor frowned. “What do you mean?”

“’What do I mean?’ Are you an idiot?” Loki shook him. “Our mother died. Your hammer was taken from you and destroyed. Odin is gone. The Warriors Three-- some of your best friends-- were brutally murdered by your sister, not to mention the hundreds of Asgardians she slaughtered.” Thor started to turn his head, but Loki fisted his hand in Thor’s hair, holding him in place. “Your hair was cut, your eye gouged out, you even lost your side-human, Jane. And after all this, you had to make the hardest decision any ruler would have to make and destroyed your planet to save your race--” Loki released him, arms slack at his sides “--and you haven’t shed a single tear.” He turned away, violently kicking a metal trash can so it banged harshly against the wall. “But both times I ‘died’, you mourned for me.”

Thor studied the now dented trash can, then the floor at his feet, then lifted his gaze to squint at his brother. “So you want me to-- cry?”

Loki shrugged. “To cry, to scream, to fight--”

“You want me to throw a tantrum, like you.”

Loki strode back to Thor, nose-to-nose with him as he yelled, “I want you to throw a tantrum AT ME!” When Thor’s confused frown only deepened, Loki sighed. “You’re keeping all these emotions locked inside, but in typical Thor fashion, you’re not very good at it. Instead, they’re festering inside you, poisoning you, oozing out of you like a snail’s trail.” He punched Thor half-heartedly in the chest. “And, in typical Loki fashion, I keep stepping in it.”

Loki backed up to sit on the unmade king-sized bed, his forehead in his hands. Thor stayed where he was, unsure if Loki would attack again, unsure if he wanted to stick around for the rest of this conversation. But Loki was being vulnerable with him, something that Loki hadn’t done by choice in recent memory. So he stayed, staring at his brother, his weight on his heels in case he needed to bolt for the door.

“Remember when we were children?” Loki murmured.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Loki shot him a withering glance. “Whenever you would get caught doing something wrong, or a pet died, or something tragic happened you couldn’t comprehend, you would take it out on me.” He laughed once, dropping his hands to his lap. “I hated it at the time, of course. But you were always so relaxed after venting on me. I thought you were weak for needing to express your emotions, but I was secretly--” he pursed his lips and groaned, as if the words pained him to say, “--I was secretly glad you needed me to cope.”

Thor sighed. So this was all about Loki, after all. He rocked forward on his feet and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

But Loki wasn’t finished. “When I ‘died’, I took joy in that you might be in pain. I thought you would break without me there to help you through it. But you didn’t, you came out stronger, because you had a support system. Jane, Odin, Hogan, Fandral, Volstagg, Sif, Heimdall, the Avengers--” he swallowed “--Mother. Especially Mother. They helped you through loss and built you up stronger than before.”

He looked over at Thor, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “But now, they are gone. I’m the only one left. Me, the false brother who’s hurt and betrayed you, whom you’ve forgiven too many times and don’t trust. So you think you don’t have any choice but to carry your burdens alone. You walk around with a smile like your whole world hasn’t been ruined ten times over, when the proof of it is on your face, right next to your nose.” Thor shook his head and pushed against the bed, ready to stand, but Loki caught his hand.

“Asgard needs a strong king, and suppressing your pain is weakening you, Thor. So I’m, you know--” he let go of Thor’s hand to hold his own, twiddling his thumbs. “--here. To help.”

Thor smiled. “Loki--”

“Don’t smile like that!” his brother snapped. “Don’t look at me with that eye patch on your face and smile like I’m the one that’s pitiful.”

Thor smiled wider, then yelped when Loki snatched a decanter from the nightstand and hit him with it.

“So basically, what you’re saying is,” Thor said between blows, “You’re here to listen if I need a shoulder to cry on.”

The blows came faster. “You weren’t even listening to me!” Loki protested.

“But your original plan,” Thor persisted, confiscating the decanter, “was to lure me into a fight, and then what? By the end I’d be miraculously healed of my depression and you’d be covered in bruises? Can you say ‘masochist?’”

Loki growled in frustration. “Well, when you put it that way--”

“It wouldn’t have worked.”

Loki frowned at Thor’s tight, resigned smile, and waited for the explanation.

“I know this is hard for you to accept, Loki, but I’m not the same as I was when we were children.” He tilted his head back to the high ceiling. “I was bloodthirsty and proud, reckless beyond excuse. You helped show me that.”

Loki blinked, his brow relaxing.

“But you’re right,” Thor continued, “I am weak. It’s been harder for me to concentrate, I’ve felt emotionally numb, and I double-think every decision I make. I hate myself for it. And you’re right that I need a support system to reestablish some sense of normalcy-- relative normalcy-- in my life.” He elbowed his brother. “But not a punching bag.”

“Well, if you ever need--” Loki swallowed, avoiding eye-contact, “--need someone to talk to, I would be honored to listen, and promise not to make light of the situation.”

Thor wrapped a strong arm around Loki’s shoulder and pulled him into a tight side-hug.

“And if you ever need to vent your vexations, brother,” he said, “I’d be willing to let you stab me. I don’t really mind.”

Loki tipped his head back and groaned. “Now that you’ve given me permission, it won’t be nearly as fun.”

For the first time in a long time, Thor genuinely laughed until he cried.

In the end, the best therapy Loki could give Thor is allowing him to act like an older brother. Thanks for reading.

[imagines-dreams]

Crossing the Line - Peter Parker Imagine

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of blood

Summary: There’s a line between best friends and romance, and neither you nor your best friend wanted to cross it, but when something almost separates you and Peter forever, both of you have to consider the consequences of crossing that line.

Word Count: 2153

Notes: @niamhlincoln

Being in love sucked. You thought you knew love, but then you fell in love with your best friend. You didn’t know the exact moment you fell in love with him, but you remember when you realized it. Liz Allen, Peter Parker’s ultimate crush, had left to another city because of her father’s crimes. Your best friend was devastated.

“I miss her,” Peter had said as he bounced a ball against the wall again and again.

You laughed a little. “I’m sure she misses you, too, Peter, but, don’t you worry.” You held up two DVD cases. “Star Wars or Star Trek?”

Peter stared at the two cases with a pout.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Star Trek it is.”

“No!” Peter shouted. “(Y/n),” he whined, “you know me better than that.” He threw the bouncy ball on his desk and pulled up the blankets to his chin.

You smiled and put in Star Wars. You shook your head at Peter. “No room for me?”

Peter laughed. He threw off his blankets and pulled you into his arms just as the movie started to roll. You snuggled into his chest and pulled up the blankets. “Feel better now?”

“With you?” Peter smiled. “Of course.”

As his eyes sparkled with wonder at the famous beginning scroll, you couldn’t help but feel complete. Your heart swelled when Peter’s curled into a bright smile when the music played. You gazed at him in awe and wondered how someone could be so radiant on a Saturday night with slightly oily hair and old pajamas. You desperately wished to say in that moment, in Peter’s arms and a perfect view of his joy.

“Is there something on my face?”

You blushed and stared at the blanket. “No, sorry. Just daydreaming.” Technically, you weren’t lying.

For two years, you hid your newly discovered feelings. However, every day it became harder and harder. Not only were you falling in love with Peter, he seemed to be… different. Every day he would be farther and farther from you, skipping weekly movie nights and forgetting about your study sessions.

Sure, you were mad, but you were more worried. He seemed to be getting more and more bruises, aches, and scrapes he always struggled to explain. But, how could you help him when it seemed like he didn’t want to be near you?

“Ms. May?”

The woman smiled fondly at you. “You know you can stop calling me that. Peter’s not here, but I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

You smiled sadly. “Of course, he is. Can I stay in his room?”

“Of course!”

You sat on Peter’s bed and dropped your backpack. If Peter was going to be late, you were going to study without him. You pulled out your textbook and looked over your notes. It was going to be a long night.

Hours passed. It wasn’t until May knocked on the door and told you that you had to go home that you realized you’d been at Peter’s for six hours. You smiled tiredly as you packed.

“I’m sure Peter was just held up at something.”

“Yeah,” you nodded solemnly. “I’m sure that’s it.”

You took a taxi home. “I’m home,” you shouted. Before anyone could ask you anything you explained, “Studied at Peter’s and finished all homework. Love you, night!” You slammed your door shut and leaned against the door. That was the last straw. You were going to talk to Peter.

“(Y/n)?”

You yelped and covered your mouth. “Wha- Peter?”

Your best friend was crumpled on the floor by your window. From the neck down, he was in a Spider-Man costume. Wait, no that material… was too similar. You shook your head. That wasn’t what mattered. You’d ask him about his suit, or exceptional cosplay, another day, because by your window was your best friend, bleeding from his side.

“Peter,” you gasped. You dropped all your things and crouched in front of him. You held his cheeks and tried to catch his empty eyes. “Peter, hey, stay with me, ok?” You scrambled to get your phone, but Peter flicked out his wrist. Webbing hit your phone and glued it against the wall. “No,” he whispered. “(Y/n), no hospital.” He breathed raggedly and held your hand. “Stark,” he whispered.

You nodded frantically. You found took our phone off the wall and called Stark Industries. “Hello!” you greeted. You squeezed Peter’s hand. “I have information about Spider-Man.”

“Mr. Stark is very busy, Miss. If you want to explain your-”

“No!” You patted Peter’s cheek. “Hey, look at me.” You gulped. “This is urgent. Spider-Man is hurt. He told me not to call the hospital.”

“If Spider-Man was injured, Mr. Stark would-”

“His suit is damaged severely!” you screamed. You brushed Peter’s hair out of his face and tried to smile. “Come on, Spider-Man. Come on.”

That seemed to wake Peter up from his daze. “(Y/n),” he breathed. He reached up to touch his bloody fingers to your cheek. “I-”

“Save your breath,” you instructed.

“This is Happy. Why do you demand-”

“Spider-Man needs help,” you explained.

“We would know if Spider-Man was-”

You looked to Peter. You silently asked if you could say his name. Peter nodded slightly. You whispered, “Spider-Man is Peter Benjamin Parker. Is that enough for you to help him?” When a few seconds passed and the only noise that filled your ears was Peter’s abnormal breathing, you begged, “Please, he needs help.”

“Help is on the way. Who are you?”

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n), I’m-”

“I know.” The man repeated, “Help should be arriving.”

You smiled. “Peter, you’re going to be fine.” You stroked his cheek and nodded as tears streamed down your cheeks. “You’re gonna be fine, ok?” You tried your best to think positive, that Iron Man or someone would help him in time, but who knows how long Peter had been bleeding in your room? You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t lose the guy you… the guy you loved. How were you supposed to smile without his science puns and jokes? How were you going to pursue your dreams without his gentle voice supporting you and your dreams? How were you supposed to survive without him?

Your best friend mustered a small smile. He winced in pain again and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“You have no need to be sorry right now, Peter.” You pushed against his wound. With the other hand, you opened your window wide open and smiled when you saw the familiar Iron Man suit coming towards you. Hope blossomed in your chest. “Mr. Stark’s coming, Peter.”

He nodded, and his eyes began to close.

“No!” You held his face in your hands. “Peter!”

~ - ~

Peter woke up in the Stark Tower. He knew because he had been there too many times before. In the chair right beside him was Mr. Stark. “Mr. Stark?”

The man smiled up at Peter. “Hey, sport.” He stood up and looked him up and down. “How you holding up?”

Peter pressed his palm against his forehead. “Better.” He took off the blanket and lifted up his hospital gown. His side was bandaged and stitched. His muscles still ached, but that wasn’t new. Then, Peter’s eyes widened. “(Y/n)? Where-”

“Outside.” Mr. Stark pointed at the door. “She refused to leave.” The superhero walked towards the door, but before he opened it, he turned around and advised, “You should ask her.”

“Ask her what?” Peter asked innocently.

Tony eyed Peter. “Fine. Don’t take my advice, but since you’ve been in here, she talked about you constantly. Like you do about her.”

Peter stared at his bed. How was he supposed to tell you that he cared for you so deeply he wanted to … be with you? You were his best friend. That was it. There was a line between best friends and romance. Peter was terrified of crossing that line.

“Just think about it, kid.” Tony left.

Before Peter could even think, the door burst open once more.

You flew into Peter’s room once Mr. Stark said that you could see him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief. You pulled away from him and stroked his cheeks. Seeing his bright eyes focused on you lifted the burden you had been holding for the past six hours. You gasped and beamed. “Are you ok? Do you feel better?”

Peter gulped. Your cheeks were stained with dried tears. You were still in pajamas, and your hair was oily and tousled. Yet, you still took his breath away. “F-Fine,” Peter squeaked. He breathed in deeply and slowly. However, that was so hard to do when you were so close to him.

You nodded. “Thank god.” You held his hand and pulled up a chair so you could sit at his bedside. “Is your arm ok?” you asked.

He blinked. “Um, yeah.”

“Good.” You punched his arm.

“Hey!”

“You didn’t tell me you were Spider-Man, idiot!” You punched his arm again. “I thought you hated me or something!”

“Hate you?” Peter shook his head and sat up. “Why would you think that?”

Your shoulders slumped. “Missed movie nights, forgotten study session, and you’re barely in school anymore.” You bit your lip. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

“No!” He laughed a little. “I would never avoid you. I just… had stuff.”

You sighed. “Now, I know, but I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me. You can tell me anything.”

Silence settled over the two of you. As you said those words, your throat tightened and twisted, because you were being a hypocrite. You shared almost everything with Peter. Should he deserve to know? He had shown you his greatest secret. Shouldn’t you share yours?

“Peter-”

“I love you.”

You blinked. Wait, were you going delusional? But you heard it. You heard those three words that propelled most of your actions in the past year. Those words were the stuff of dreams. You pinched yourself. When you didn’t wake up, you shook your head. “Sorry, I think I misheard you. I thought you said-”

“That I love you?” Peter gulped. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Your hand fell limp in his, something you didn’t realize. Peter noticed, though. So, he pulled away from you. “I’m sorry. I know, it’s weird. You’re my best friend and everything, and I totally get why you wouldn’t want to see me ever again. You can-”

“I love you, too,” you blurted out. You laughed and stroked his cheek. “Peter, I’ve been in love with you for over a year. I-I thought you loved Liz and that you wouldn’t even look at me like-”

Suddenly, he silenced you with a chaste kiss. It was barely a press of your lips against his, but it was the best feeling. With just one short kiss, Peter Parker was able to leave you breathless. Your best friend gazed at you with admiration and awe filling his eyes, as if you were the most precious thing on the planet.

You didn’t trust your voice to tell him how much you wanted something like that moment. So, you leaned forward and kissed him again. You gripped his hair and pulled him closer to you, and it made your heart soar when Peter kissed you back. His hands wandered as he tried to figure out how to hold you without hurting himself. Finally, one of his hands cupped the back of your neck, while the other rubbed your shoulder affectionately.

Peter didn’t want to stop kissing you, but his lungs were tired and damaged. He tried his best to ignore it, but he couldn’t help instinct.

You felt Peter freeze against your lips for a second or two, pulling away only slightly to groan in pain before leaning forward once more. Just as his lips touched yours, you pulled away and laughed. “You’re hurt,” you said. You pressed your palms against his chest with intentions to make him lean back against his bed, but Peter wasn’t a superhero for nothing. He didn’t budge. “I don’t care,” he whispered all the while staring at you. His eyes were trying to find the best way to look at you, darting from your swollen lips to your bright eyes.  Peter put his hand on top of one of yours and giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I love you.” He repeated. He kissed your cheek. “I love you.” He kissed your other cheek and continued to kiss your face as he said over and over again. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You giggled and pushed him away once more. “You have to rest, Peter.” You kissed his forehead. “And I love you, too.” You kissed his cheek. “I love you.” You held his face with both hands and kissed him shortly once more. “I love you so much, Peter Parker.”

Got another one out before my classes start! Hope you guys like it! I promise when things are a little less hectic, I’ll go back to my requests. Thanks, guys! 

[thetimeweaver]

Breaking

This was supposed to be her big break. A break from reality. A break from her mother. A break from everything that once held her back. But things were not exactly happening as planned.

“Do you have everything you need?” Her mother asked with a voice high strung and filled with worry as she slammed the car trunk closed. The two, Ella and her mother, were standing outside the freshman dorm of All-Star College, experiencing the frustration and devastation of the dreaded move-in day. It had taken them nearly half an hour to unpack and fill Ella’s assigned dorm room. Now all was left was the fated parting. Mother and child, finally going their separate ways.

         “Yeah, Mom.” Ella groaned, dancing on unsteady feet. She grabbed the handle of light-weight suitcase covered in an endless array of constellations and the never-ending abyss of space with a small set of wheels to relieve some of the burden of its contents. The handle was pulled to its tallest height, just barely reaching one’s hip.   She eyed her mother, leaning towards the entrance of the dormitory. And started towards the front door with her mother following close behind.

“Do you have your braces? Your extra castes?” Her mother said quickly, concern coating her voice as her steps quickened to keep up with her daughter. “What about the wellness center’s emergency contact? You have Dr. Clare on speed dial, right?”

Ella stopped and turned towards the one person who held the key to her freedom. “Yes, mom, I got everything I need and more.” She turned back towards the door.

“But, what about-” Her mother started, only to be interrupted by a loud, annoyed sigh.

“Mom, please. I’m gonna be fine.” She reached out and grabbed her mother’s shoulders, knuckles paling with effort. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“But Ella, your condition, I’m just afraid that you’ll…” She bit her lip, glancing between her only daughter and the door. So many uncertainties. So many possibilities. So many ways for such a fragile being to crack and break, shattering into a million undistinguishable pieces.

Ella stiffened. Her condition. How dare she call it that? Always breaking, always screaming, always crying. Always being restrained to the disastrous and stiff mixture of plaster and cotton. Only for it to be reduced to two simple, everyday words. Her condition. Osteogenesis imperfect.

Ella’s eyes slipped over her mother’s mask of worry then to the closed door. “Goodbye, mom.” She leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, lips barely brushing against her mother’s skin. With a shaking hand, she reached over and turned the door handle and strode away into her new life.

The room was rather small, roughly the size of a utility closet. The air was heavy and smelled like stale bread and mold. Reaching with both her arms stretched out wide, Ella could easily touch both, oddly pinkish walls. They were made of stone and flaunted the idea of a masquerade of tape and posters. Provided solely by the college were the absolute essentials two young adults would truly need, beds, desks with accompanying rickety chairs that were on their last legs, a mini-fridge, and a microwave that smelled like leftover meatloaf. There was also a mirror, if you wanted to call it that. Shattered and long been discarded, it sat in Ella’s side of the room, waiting for someone put it back together. All of Ella’s belongings were piled up on her side of the room, just in case her roommate decided to show up before she was completely done unpacking it all.

“Well, home sweet home, I guess.” Ella said, a frown sewn tightly onto her nude lips. She strode over to the shattered mirror and picked up a fragment, watching as the sharp edge silently dug into her paling skin. A droplet of blood leaked out of the wound, like a dew drop slipping off the edge of a sweating radiator. Finally registering the sudden pain, she dropped the piece, watching as it crashed and shattered against the concrete.

  She was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly over her stomach. Tears dotted her forest green eyes as her brunette hair fell onto her face. “Who am I kidding? I cannot do this.” Ella slowly sunk to her knees. “What if I break? What if I shatter? Who will pick up all my pieces?” Her eyes glared at the forgotten mirror, anger swelling in her throat.

Then came a knock, rapid and obtruding her storm of thoughts. Ella stood and walked towards the door, peeking out into the hallway to find a bright and eerily cheery face staring back at her. Covered head to toe in red with a dragon, the school’s mascot, costume consuming most of her body, was an older girl. “Howdy there,” the girl said, a southern drawl blanketing her words in dust and hot weather. “My name is Alessandra, but you can call me Aless if you would like. I am your RA.” She peeked into the room, taking in all the bareness and lack of readiness, she glanced down at her clip board and then back up at the room number printed on the door. “You must Ella Nichols.”

Ella’s fingers drummed along the door, waiting patiently for Alessandra to decide she was too boring to deal with and leave. “I am. Why? Is there a problem?”

Alessandra shook her head, “Nope, none at all my dear.” She paused, searching for the right, non-condescending, words. “It’s just that your mother made it very clear that you have a certain…” Another pause, smothering the already foul-smelling air with tension and unease. “Your mother wanted to make sure that I knew that your bones are little different form mine and hers.”

“They’re hollow.” Ella said, trying to ease the door closed ever so slowly. “Much a like a bird’s. But instead of allowing me to fly, they break.” Break, shatter, snap, cave in, Ella thought to herself, not daring to say the words aloud.

Alessandra shifted on her feet and clutched the clip board a little bit closer to her chest. “Well, you mother asked that I help you unpack, since you refused her aid.” She inched towards the door, attempting to pry it open just a little more so she could sneak through the crack.

“No thank you.” She said and pulled the door shut, wincing as the sound echoed around the room. A sigh escaped her lips as she placed her forehead against the cool wooden door. Just beyond was the sound of hesitant but retreating footsteps boomed down the hall. “Just because I’m a little different, does not mean I need extra help.” Her brow furrowed together as she snarled in disgust. “Why must mother always make a big deal out of it?”

She was left undisturbed for a total of three hours before being interrupted yet again by the rapping of knuckles against wood. Only this time, it was not the dragon lady, but rather Ella’s roommate. She was petite and scrawny, barely able to carry the large cardboard box that rested snuggly in her arms. Her hair was raven black and neatly braided down her back, barely reaching the top of her narrow hips. Black and blue spots slept snuggly under her caramel brown eyes, indicating the lack of sleep. Unlike Ella’s pale skin, the girl was tan and looked like she practically lived on the sun. She slipped through the door and hefted the box onto her bed. 

With a huff of breath, she turned and smiled at Ella. “That was a lot heavier than it looked, trust me.” The box barely made a dent in the bed’s conforming nature. “The name is Dianna, and yes just like Wonder Woman.” She struck the iconic heroine’s pose, crossing her wrists in front of her upper chest and gave Ella a fierce look. “What’s your name?”

“The name is Ella, like Cinderella, but without all the ashes.” She said, eyeing the girl warily. “My mother did not send you here, right?”

Dianna shot her a confused look, eyes narrowing. “Your mother, girl I have never met your mother in my entire life.” She paled as a thought crossed her mind. “No offense to her, of course.”

Ella quickly shook her head. “No, it’s just that she...” A groan slipped past her lips. “Nothing, just forget I said anything.”

Dianna shrugged, “Well, I gotta go get the rest of my stuff.” She headed towards the door. “Unless you want to help. My parents did not exactly have the time to see their youngest daughter, off. After all what is another move-in day compared the four others that came before it.”

Ella could feel her head bobbing up and down, eagerly. Then realization slowly sunk in. She could not help. She could not assist. She could not do anything without someone else helping her. Her eagerness died as it turned over into sadness. “I cannot, sorry.”

“Why not?” Dianna asked, the smile persisting to be a permanent part of her face. She glanced over Ella’s frame, taking in every detail. A pale blue sun-dress adorned her roommate’s frame, hanging loosely from her shoulders. Her green eyes were soft and a never-ending sight of apologies. “I do not see anything wrong with you, maybe a little on the skinny side. A little milk can easily fix that.”

Ella shook her head. “No, I have this thing. This condition.” The word felt like poison on her lips. “Where I cannot exactly do anything at all, without breaking. My bones are fragile and will snap like a twig if I’m not too careful.”

Dianna nodded, “Well, I guess that means you get off easy with carrying all the light stuff.” She held up her arms to show off her muscles. “Looks like I get to use these babies after all.”

Another smile ran across her roommate’s lips and Ella could not help but smile as well. “Well, I guess that beats carrying nothing.”

Walking arm and arm, the two strode out of the dormitory towards Dianna’s rusty orange punch-buggy. The interior was a messy array of dorm supplies and feminine essentials, such as high heels and packets of pumpkin-spiced coffee grounds. With arms filled with pillows and a random blanket, Ella was the first to arrive back to the girl’s dorm, only to find that the janitors had been by and cleared away the shattered mirror. She threw the pillows onto Dianna’s bed and sat on her somewhat assembled mattress, feeling weightless as she jumped onto it. The mattress springs groaned under her sudden weight. She kicked off her shoes and laid out, waiting patiently for Dianna to return.

The door slowly creaked out and there appeared Dianna, with tears streaking down her petite face. She bit her lip, trying to hold back a sob. Her eyes glazed over Ella as she slid to her knees.

“Dianna! What happened?” Without a moment of hesitation, Ella jumped from the bed. Only to be met with a sudden crack and then pain. Tears welled up in her own as eyes as her entire body folded in on itself, forcing her frame into the agonizing fetal position.

“Ella! What did you-?” Dianna raced to her newly-made friend’s side, hands hesitant hovering over her crumpled form. “What do I do? Who do I need to call? Ella! Speak to me!”

Just hold yourself together. Ella thought, keeping still so she would not become an endless pile of broken and tattered puzzle pieces. You knew something was going to go wrong. And now look at you. You’re nothing! Nothing but a mistake! Nothing but a burden! Who is going to pick you up now? You are just like that stupid mirror.

“Ella, I need you to listen to me.” Dianna whispered, voice suddenly clear of all emotion. Cold and tense, she sounded like the Amazonian warrior, as opposed to her meek and self-conscious side Ella had seen before. “I am going to carry you to the wellness center. If any time, it feels like I am hurting you. I need to know. Please do not keep secrets from me.”

Hands shaking like an old woman with arthritis, Dianna wrapped her arms around Ella’s breaking frame, trying her best not to cause any more damage that was sustained. “Where did you…” Break. The word clogged up in her throat, refusing to come forth. “Where does it hurt?”

“Legs. Lower legs.” Ella spat, barely able to keep the pain from splattering and staining her shaking voice. “Broken. Definitely broken.” She grunted as she was hefted from the peaceful ground to Dianna’s unsteady and bending back. “I’m so sorry. I must be the worst roommate in the world. Just when we were finally getting to know each other. I just had to go and break.”

Dianna laughed, bubbly and full of joy. “Do you know want to know why I was crying?” A pause, just enough for her to catch her breath as they trekked down the hallway towards the wellness center. “On the way back here, I realized something. For once in my life, someone has finally noticed me.” Another burst of laughter. “Wait that sounded better in my head. What I mean to say is that for once in my life, someone saw me for who I was. Not as the sister or the daughter, but as Dianna. Independent and fierce Dianna. And do you know who that someone was?” A smile spread across her lips. “It was you, my dear Cinderella. Now come on, let’s get your glass slipper fixed before our lovely RA decides to steal you away to the tower from whence you came.”