#whumpril day four

[fanfictasia]

Whumpril Day 4

Ache

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Wartorn

Everything still aches when Anakin wakes up a little while later, but at least it’s not as bad as it was when it first happened. It’ll take time to fully heal, though. They’re in neutral space, at least. Considering they could’ve crashed in literally any system, including one uninhabitable or even directly in Separatist space, he’s thankful. It could be far worse.

His ribs were fractured – albeit minorly – when he was thrown, so they’ll take time to heal, but he can move around. He’s trying to rest right now, though, while he has the time… until he suddenly senses something.

Something’s coming, and he doesn’t know what, but –

“General,” Rex calls, sprinting into the room, “We have Separatists ships inbound.”

“What?!” Luke hisses.

He should have suspected as much. “They might’ve tracked us to the system,” he realizes, feeling almost resigned. “Which means the Lasatts are going to be dragged into the war, whether they like it or not.”

“Then we have to help them,” Luke says, spinning to face him.

“First, we wait,” Anakin replies, “We need to gauge the situation before taking action. There’s no need to expose our presences until we’ve been found. It’ll only put them more at risk.”

“I’ll watch from a distance,” Rex tells them, slipping from the room again.

Somehow, Anakin already knows where this is going to go, though. They don’t have to wait long before Rex calls back. “The Separatists are attacking,” he says, breathlessly – right before Anakin hears the far-off sound of an explosion, “The Lasatt are gathering to repel them, but the other Jedi have already left to engage them.”

“I’m on my way,” Anakin replies, immediately moving to stand, a little unsteadily, ignoring the pain spearing through his ribs.

“Are you really ready to fight, Father?” Luke objects, concerned.

“I will have to be,” Anakin replies, “We are the ones who put them in danger.” So, he’s not going to sit back when he could be defending them. He’s had to be up and moving in worse conditions before.

[drabbles-mc]

Collateral Damage

Angel Reyes x GN!Reader

For Day 16 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: guilt / shock / "I'm so sorry"

Warnings: 18+, angst, language, blood/injury, hospitals

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Angel was overdue for a good whumping. Love this for him. 😌

Angel Reyes Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lilacyennefer @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @littlekittymeow @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @kelpies-shed @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @frattsparty @yourwonkywriter @amorestevens @withmyteeth @winchestershiresauce @nessamc @narcolini @mijagif @choochoo284 @fanfic-n-tabulous @passionatewrites @artemiseamoon @justazzi @camelia35 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Moving into the new house with Angel was supposed to be something reminiscent of a fresh start. It was still Santo Padre, still the border, but it was a place that was going to be something that was just for the two of you. You were thrilled to leave your tiny apartment behind, and Angel didn’t seem too upset about ditching the glorified bachelor pad that he’d been living in for the last few years. It was supposed to be something new, something good.

The two of you hadn’t even gotten all of the boxes unpacked yet before someone came after Angel, but ended up giving you the scare of your life instead.

In the back of your mind, you knew that that was part of the risk. Being with him was always going to have lingering dangers. That was the price of him being an outlaw. Intellectually, you knew that. When the threat wasn’t right in front of you with a gun pointed at your chest, it was easy to say that you were willing to accept that type of responsibility, that you were cut out for being part of the life that he’d chosen. But when he’d gotten home a few hours later to find you curled up on the floor behind the couch, still crying, still shaking, it became apparent to both of you that maybe you should stop and take a beat to reconsider it all.

You weren’t quite sure if you were refusing to leave because you couldn’t handle that kind of change after what had happened to you, or if you were really trying to rally and prove to yourself, prove to Angel, that you weren’t going to quit on what the two of you had. Your reasons for staying changed depending on the day, and how hard it was to get yourself out of bed in the morning.

The two weeks following the incident, you saw Angel more than you had in months. It was admirable, the way that he was pulling out all the stops. He was home as much as he could be, and when he couldn’t be he always made sure to check in on you, calling and texting almost as much as he had when the two of you first started seeing each other. All it took was a break-in and someone threatening to kill you.

Days came and went without incident. There hadn’t been so much as a sketchy vehicle even driving by the house, let alone someone stopping and bursting into it like they had before. If you hadn’t already known better, you almost would’ve thought that what had happened was an isolated incident. But you’d seen the kutte on the man’s shoulders. You knew that whatever it was, wasn’t over.

You were still working through your first cup of coffee, cross-legged on your bed with your computer in your lap, when you saw Angel materialize in the doorway. You’d been observant before, but now that you found yourself on-edge most of the time, hardly anything got past you. You didn’t take your eyes off the screen in front of you, not wanting to look over and see the same look of pity in Angel’s eyes that had been there for weeks. He never seemed to be able to shake it, and considering the state that you were in, that you were still electing to work from inside the four walls of your bedroom instead of actually going to work, you supposed that you couldn’t blame him. It didn’t mean that you wanted to be faced with it all the time, though.

“Hey,” he spoke up, hoping it would make you face him.

Something about his tone made your stomach knot. Still, you looked over at him. “Yea?”

“Got a sec?”

You saw the way that he shifted uneasily on the balls of his feet, trying to decide if he was going to lean against the doorframe or not. It made you shift nervously as well. Setting your laptop to the side, you nodded. “What’s up?”

Stepping through the doorway, he walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. He sat close enough to you so that he could reach out and toy with the loose strings of the comforter right next to your legs. He kept his eyes trained on the stitching as he tried to pull together what it was that he wanted to say.

“It’s about the club.”

A knot immediately formed in the back of your throat. No matter how hard you tried to keep a neutral expression, you knew that you weren’t going to succeed. You gave one slow nod. “Okay. What’s…what’s going on?”

Angel let out a small sigh, head tilting back as he looked up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at you again. “Got a run coming up. Bish said that he needs me on this one.”

You knew that it was only a matter of time before he would have to actually leave to do things with the club again. Running with the MC wasn’t exactly the kind of job that he could do from home, no matter how badly you wanted him to stay with you as much as possible. Still, the thought of him being gone for a few nights made your hands start to shake.

“How long?” you asked, hating how weak your voice sounded.

It hurt him to look at you, how scared you were when he hadn’t even left yet. “Couple days. Not…not long.”

You nodded. There was no point in starting an argument about it—it wasn’t going to change anything. Realistically you knew that you were going to have to get used to being alone again. Angel was your partner, not your babysitter. The nervous heat creeping up your neck was telling you that you weren’t ready yet, but you knew that if you told Angel that all it would do was make him feel guilty. It wouldn’t make circumstances anything other than what they were.

“Okay,” you said, your voice just above a whisper.

His lips curled down into a frown. He knew that it wasn’t okay—that was half the reason that he didn’t want to tell you about it. But he also knew that trying to hide it from you was only going to put off the inevitable for a few days. There was no getting away from it.

“I’ll make sure EZ stops by.”

It was an attempt to reassure you, one that you appreciated. And for as much as you loved EZ, you and Angel both knew that it wasn’t going to be the same. Even if EZ camped out on your couch for the entire time Angel was gone, it wasn’t really going to make you feel any more at ease.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, trying to smile and lighten the mood. “He’s a prospect—gotta keep him busy with something when we leave his ass behind.”

It got a tiny chuckle out of you. “Right.”

The silence that followed brought the heavy feeling back over the two of you full-force. Angel shook his head, more at himself than you. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffled, trying to pull yourself together in hopes of alleviating some of the guilt. “I’ll…I’ll be fine, Angel. Really.”

He knew you were lying, to him and to yourself. Reaching out, he rested his hand over yours, interlocking your fingers together. “It’s been quiet since all that shit went down, right?” He paused, and when you nodded silently in agreement he continued, “And I’m only gonna be a couple days. Trust me, I don’t wanna spend any more fuckin’ time in Yuma than I have to. I’ll get these motherfuckers back on the road to SanPa ASAP.” He offered a weak smile.

You tried to mirror the expression, knowing that you were coming up short on it by the look in his eyes. “You better.”

He could feel the tremor in your hand still, despite the reassurance he was desperately trying to give you. “It’s gonna be alright. Those guys…they’re not gonna come back. They’re not gonna try and hurt you again.”

That was the most that he’d spoken directly about the break-in in a long time. The two of you talked around it, alluded to it. He was never good at talking about those sorts of things head-on, not when he didn’t have a solid solution to the problem.

“Promise?” It was an unfair ask, but the word came out before you could stop it.

Angel had always been an expert at guaranteeing more than he could hope to deliver. He gave your hand a light squeeze. “I promise.”

The day that Angel left for the run came sooner than you wanted it to. If it had been a few weeks before, you would’ve gone to the clubhouse with him to see him off, to tell the rest of the guys to be safe and to take care of themselves. You would’ve been joking with them about not having enough bail money to get all of them out of fail so they needed to be careful. This time, though, you simply stood on your front step as Angel shouldered his duffle bag. Neither of you looked like you wanted to go through with what was about to happen.

“EZ’ll be by in a bit, alright?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“You can make him stay if you want. He’s got nothin’ better to do. Promise,” he tried to joke.

You managed a smile that was a little more convincing than usual. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Cupping the side of your face, he pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you.”

You wished that you could stay right there in that moment forever. It’d make life so much simpler if you could. “I love you too.”

Usually Angel would pepper you with a million promises to call and text that he undoubtedly would never keep. He would tell you that he’d be back before you even started to miss him, which was never true. But there was none of that this time. The weight that was slung across both your shoulders, something that the two of you were each forced to carry against your will, snuffed out all of the banter-filled rituals of saying goodbye. You wished that it didn’t.

“I’ll let you know when we get there,” he said, and for once you almost believed him.

“Be safe,” you said with a small nod.

He kissed you again. “We’ll be good.” One more kiss. “Both of us.”

You could’ve dragged out saying goodbye on that front step for hours, could’ve made him miss the window to leave with the rest of the club. Hell, part of you wanted to do just that. You couldn’t quite force it, though. Much sooner than you wanted, he was heading off towards his bike, one long stride after another taking him farther and farther away from you.

True to Angel’s word, EZ showed up hardly an hour after Angel had left. You hadn’t seen EZ since he’d come over to help clean up some of the mess left behind by the break-in. You had no clue what Angel had said to him about any of it, what he’d said to any of the men in the club about any of it. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Out of the two Reyes Brothers, EZ was the one who had been gifted with a convincing poker face. You had no idea what he was really thinking or feeling about you, about the entire situation. He kept it light, pleasant. He hung around long enough to eat, long enough to give a mild sense of security and that he had fulfilled his duty for the evening.

“Want me to stay?” he asked as he sat at your dining room table. “I brought my stuff.”

It was tempting. You really did want him to stay. You didn’t want to admit that, though. If you set the precedent now that you were always going to need someone to stay with you, when was it ever going to stop?

You studied his face for a moment. You wondered if you would get a different answer to your questions from EZ than you did from Angel. EZ wouldn’t feel as obligated to placate you, to protect you from the monsters under the bed and outside the windows. If you asked him for his honest opinion, you wondered if he would actually give it.

“You think you need to stay?” you asked tentatively.

He didn’t miss a beat. “If you want me to, I will.”

You shook your head. “No, I mean,” you huffed, staring down at the floor for a moment, “do you think that something is gonna happen if you don’t?”

“Those guys want Angel, the club. Not you.” He watched the shift in your expression for a moment before saying, “I’ll stay if—”

“No,” you cut him off, your voice still uncertain in the gesture. “I’ll be fine. I’ll…I’ll call you if I need anything.”

He gave you a nod, his movements easy. He had such an air of certainty around him that neither you or Angel had had in weeks. There was something reassuring about it, even if he was only able to be so confident because he hadn’t been living in the mess the same way that you had. He could handle it all in small doses just fine and not crack, while Angel had to be steeped in it with no break.

Standing up, he started to walk towards the door, grabbing his bag along the way. You followed him, intent on saying goodbye but more importantly doing the locks behind him once he left. He pulled you into a hug when he reached the door, promising you that his phone would be on and close by if you needed anything from him, if you changed your mind. You believed him. You believed most things that he said in a way you didn’t with most of the other men from the club.

You watched from the window until his bike was well down the street. Pulling the curtains closed, you started to set about cleaning up. There wasn’t much to do, but any little task to help keep you busy until you were tired enough to at least attempt to get some sleep was better than nothing.

The sound of screeching tires had barely hit your ears when bullets started flying through the windows and from wall of your house. You screamed, instantly dropping to the floor. Trying your best to stay as low as possible, you made your way back towards the very same couch you’d hid behind before. It wasn’t the best buffer, but it was the only one that was close to you at the moment.

Your hands were clamped down over your ears, knees pulled to your chest and eyes shut tight. The gunfire was fast, incessant. You had no idea how long it had really been going on for, but it felt like an eternity. The guns were going to have to run out of ammo eventually, right?

Then they finally did. The silence felt manufactured, like someone had made a call on a set and they were about to yell action to kick it all off again. You didn’t know if you should get up and try to go out the back of the house, or if you should stay put in case they all opened fire again. The right choice didn’t matter much since you didn’t think that you were going to be able to get your legs to move.

You eventually managed to pry your eyes open. You still felt like you couldn’t quite pull in a proper breath, but at least you could see now. Although, the mess you were surrounded by wasn’t a particularly comforting sight to open your eyes to. You took a quick scan, moreso just to make sure that people hadn’t also entered the house along with the bullets. It all happened over the span of just a few seconds but it felt like so much longer.

It'd been quiet for just long enough to make you think that someone was either about to barge into the house, or they were going to drive off. You were about to try and force your legs to hoist you up when you heard more gunfire. It was different than what you’d heard before. Singular shots, longer breaks between. But it went from just a few to the sounds of an actual exchange and you felt yourself freeze up again.

There was the sound of a few loud thuds against your front door and you couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped out of you. You clamped your hand over your own mouth, trying to stifle the sounds, not that it would do you much good. A few more thuds and suddenly you heard the cracking of the door frame breaking, followed by heavy footsteps.

You were crying now, not even attempting to quiet the sound. Your body was shaking more than you thought it was capable of, heart pounding so hard in your chest you thought for sure it was going to crack one of your ribs. The footsteps kept getting closer and you wished that you had it in you to get up and run, but you couldn’t. The floor may as well have been pulling you down.

Then you heard it, the sound of your name. It was quiet, but intense. It took a few seconds for you to realize that it was EZ who was saying it. He must not have gotten so far away that he didn’t hear the gunfire.

Suddenly he was crouching down in front of you, blood splattered across his clothes. “Let’s get you out of here.” You watched him as he looked you over, his expression steady as ever. “Can you walk?”

“When the panic subsides enough to let me stand,” you thought. You couldn’t get the words out, though, so instead you just nodded. Reaching for EZ, you grabbed onto his shoulder in an attempt to use him as a means to push you up onto your feet. Your fingers dug into the leather of his kutte, arm and shoulder tensing in preparation for the lift, but then you didn’t move. Nothing happened.

Instead of looking at yourself, you looked at EZ. He always had answers. When you took in the look on his face, your heart started to speed up all over again. The frown he had on hadn’t been there earlier. Whatever the situation was now, it must’ve been worse.

He could see that you were about to look at the state of yourself and he spoke up, distracting you as he slid his arm around you to help you to your feet. “You’re good,” he said, a convincing lie. “You’re good. C’mon.”

He got his feet underneath himself enough to help you to your feet. Once you were upright, you were so distracted by the disheveled state of your house that you hardly noticed the way that he was practically dragging you towards the front door. He was shouldering more of your weight than you were, but you couldn’t even feel it happening.

Despite all of the chaos and destruction and mess, your car keys were still somehow resting on the table just inside the front door. EZ swiped them on the way out, knowing that there was no chance in hell that you would be able to get on the bike.

As he maneuvered you down the front steps and towards the car, that was when you saw the destruction that was outside, too. You felt your stomach tighten, feeling dizzy at the sight of the blood and the shot-out car windows. EZ was talking to you, attempting to distract you from the carnage that he’d created in the process of getting to you, but it was too late.

“EZ,” you didn’t even recognize your own voice as you repeated his name over and over, unable to get any other words out, “EZ. E…EZ.” Despite his best efforts you almost sank to the ground anyway. “Oh my god.”

“Look at me,” he kept his voice level, calm. He pulled the passenger door of the car open, sliding the seat back with no grace at all before going to help get you into the seat. “Just look at me.”

You tried. You tried to focus on him, on the way he needed you to move so that you could get into the seat of the car so that he could get the two of you out. But your eyes kept straying back to the mess.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, EZ was in the driver’s seat, slamming the keys into the ignition of the car. You were finally able to watch what he was doing. “Where,” you swallowed hard, “where are we going?”

You assumed he was going to take you to the clubhouse, maybe to Felipe’s—somewhere that you’d be safe while he cleaned up the mess. He didn’t say anything at first, one hand reaching and gripping onto the headrest of your seat as he looked over his shoulder to reverse out of your driveway.

The longer he went without answering your question, the harder you stared at him. A million scathing comments and a thousand other questions were racing through your head as you stared at him, but for some reason you couldn’t seem to force any of them out. You were trying to get yourself to take a couple deep breaths, thinking that if you got your breathing under control, the words would come.

Leaning back in the seat, you rested your hands in your lap as you started to shut your eyes. It was only a couple seconds after you closed them when you heard EZ saying your name again, this time with a little more of an edge to his voice.

Prying your eyes open, you looked over at him. Picking your hand up off your lap, you went to rub the side of your face when you saw that your skin was covered in red. Confusion washed over you for a moment as you stared at your hand, like your brain was willfully not connecting the dots. You could see EZ in your peripheral, looking back and forth between you and the road as he waited for the fallout.

“Where are we going?” you repeated your question from earlier.

He knew that there was no more avoiding it, no more letting you have your denial. “Hospital.”

You felt your brain trying to rouse you into a panic, but you just couldn’t seem to do it. Your heart sped up but you couldn’t make yourself move any quicker. Even if you could, there wasn’t really anywhere that you could go.

“You’re okay,” he said, trying to reassure you despite the evidence stacking up proving just the opposite.

Your eyes widened. “Angel.”

“He’s already on his way back.” He looked at you for a moment, and when he saw the look on your face he elaborated just enough. “Called him when I heard the shots.”

You forced yourself to look out the windshield, your brain caught between thinking about everything that had happened, and trying to distract yourself by thinking about literally anything else. Luckily, it wasn’t much longer until the two of you reached the hospital. EZ managed to help you get to the door, where you were met by a team of doctors and nurses who seemed more ready than you could ever hope to be. You remembered them taking you off in the wheelchair, and telling them that they couldn’t send EZ away because you needed him, but after that everything got fuzzy, and then everything went dark.

All you could see was blinding light when you came to, and for a moment, you thought that maybe you’d actually died. Heaven was a lot harder on your eyes than you thought it would be.

But then you heard the sound of a chair scraping across tile. After a couple long, hard blinks things slowly started to come back into focus. You felt someone’s hand wrap around yours, the familiar coolness of metal rings letting you know that it was Angel. Within seconds you felt his forehead pressed against yours, the feeling of his breath on your skin as he let out a sigh of relief. He squeezed your hand, the compromise for not being able to hold you.

“You’re awake,” he said it like he was reassuring himself that it was true.

You gave a small nod, your voice still not sounding like your own as you said, “You’re here.”

“EZ called—I turned right around. I’m,” he sucked in a short breath to keep himself together, “I’m so sorry.”

The apology made tears spring into your eyes. Hardly awake for a minute and all of the emotions that you’d been drowning in for weeks came flooding right back to you. Your hand trembled in his. “You said I’d be okay.”

He flinched at the statement even though you were speaking softly. He didn’t pull away, his head still resting against yours as he nodded slightly. “I know.”

“You and EZ. You both,” your voice was slowly starting to come back with each word, “you said that I would be okay. That there was nothing to worry about.”

“I didn’t think—”

“You left me,” the words came out strained, fighting with the sob that was trying to dislodge itself from your throat.

Pulling back so that he could look you in the eyes, Angel could see how tired, how broken you were. You could see the tears in his eyes as he looked at you, neither of you still the same people you were when you met those few years ago. Everything was different now. Worse, in some ways.

“I know,” he conceded with a nod. “I know I did.”

Your bottom lip was trembling as you watched him run his thumb over your knuckles. “I don’t think I can do this, Angel.”

He froze. “What?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I can do this. I…I can’t go through this again.”

“We’re gonna handle—”

“And then what?” you cut him off, talking despite the pain that was starting to radiate throughout your body now that you were fully awake. “We wait until the next guy who has a problem with you comes and shoots our house up again?” You shook your head. “No. I, I can’t. I thought I could, but,” you shifted slightly on the bed and felt the pull of multiple bandages beneath your hospital gown, “I can’t. I’m, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, clasping your hand tighter in his as he plead, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you again. I won’t. I promise.”

The tiniest, saddest smile curled your lips. Angel Reyes, always so full of promises. “I know you think you mean that, but…” you trailed off.

“I do mean it,” his words sounded so earnest.

Despite everything that had happened, all that you’d gone through the last few weeks and the fear that had settled so deep into your bones, it was the most sure of yourself that you’d felt in a long time. It didn’t feel good, but underneath it all you knew that it felt right.

“Angel…”

He shook his head. “No, no. Don’t say it like that.”

Tears trickled out onto your cheeks. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

The sadness on his face broke your heart. You knew that on the tip of his tongue were a thousand things he wanted to say to try and make you change your mind. But you could see it in his eyes that he knew that it wasn’t going to happen. He knew that this was too much, that things had gone too far. He knew that this was it.

“I love you,” he said, lips twitching as he tried not to let his own tears escape.

You managed a soft smile. “I love you too.” That hadn’t changed.

Dragging his hand down over his mouth and his chin, he got himself together enough to ask, “Can I still stay here? With you?”

You nodded. “That’d be good.”

He nodded in return, going back to the chair that he’d been in while he was waiting for you to wake up. There was more to say, more questions to ask, but all of that could wait now. You laid in the hospital bed, staring over at Angel while he sat in a chair that looked too small for all of his height, staring right back at you.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 6 - Dizziness

Look I think Mariano just thinks that being dizzy is fun, that's my one explanation for how he gets when he's drunk or oxygen deprived

TWs: suffocation, oxygen deprivation in a controlled environment, lab-whump adjacent but it's the military, a mage gets flustered about oxygen dep (but it's safe for work, he's just blushy)

Luis tapped his fingers against his arm, watching through the window of the testing room. They didn’t need to be sequestered away for this one–all advanced soldiers going to specialized branches would go through it eventually. Laredo sat at a school desk, leaned over the worksheet he’d been given. He tapped the mechanical pencil against his lips, pausing before circling another answer. 

Luis’ eyes flicked to the monitor in Manuel’s hands. His oxygen saturation was still respectable. He was halfway done with the sheet. 

“Thoughts?” He asked, looking to Manuel. 

Manuel hummed, glancing back to where Izan and Dimitri were sitting in the hallway, oxygen masks strapped to their faces. Their lips were still paler than either Luis or Manuel would’ve preferred, but they were recovering nicely. “I think he’s doing fine so far. He seems calmer than Dimitri was, and he’s matching my pace, at least.” 

“I agree.” Luis said. “And none of you have anything else to do today or tomorrow, as discussed. Just recovery.”

Manuel smiled, bright and quick. “Thank you for readjusting the schedule. Especially with how Laredo’s heart gets sometimes, I just don’t think it’d be wise for anyone to be doing a ton of cardio for a little while.”

“Of course. Thank you for staying on top of things.” 

The numbers on the monitor flashed yellow, cutting Manuel off from what he was going to say. He squinted at Laredo, whose writing had slowed down. He was starting to tilt to one side. “Ah, there it is.” Manuel said, marking down the time. “I wonder if he’ll be as coherent after this point?”

Dimitri spoke up, pulling the oxygen mask away for a moment. “If he’s more coherent than me on the third essay question I’ll fry his controller.”

“Keep breathing, Dimitri.” Luis scolded, shaking his head. 

They watched the seconds tick by, melting into minutes. Laredo tipped further and further, before eventually falling completely to the floor on his side, pencil dropping beside him. “Time! Releasing the seal.” Luis announced, unlatching the door and letting oxygen rush back in. 

He watched as Manuel hurried inside with the third of four oxygen tanks, kneeling and pressing the mask to Laredo’s face. He leaned down and spoke to him, patting his face to help him wake up. Just as Luis was starting to worry, Laredo jolted up with a groan and scrambled to his elbows, drawing a sincere laugh from Manuel and a gentle pat of his shoulder. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Izan felt the same way. Nice and slow, now, your brain is still restarting.” 

When Laredo could stand he let Manuel help him from the classroom, face red and unable to look Luis in the eye. “Alright Mariano,” Luis said, pointedly ignoring the way Izan elbowed Laredo’s bicep. “Your turn, then we can go back.” 

Mariano nodded, stepping inside the room and taking the last fresh worksheet. He picked up the pencil, sat down, and watched the window for his signal. When Luis resealed the door and the air began to drain from the room, Manuel waved a hand and gave Mariano a thumbs-up. The timer began to count.

The first few minutes were entirely uneventful, with Mariano steadily working his way down the page. He didn’t seem to stumble on anything in the first half, but when the oxygen reached its lowest point and his breathing started to get strained, Luis watched the youngest member seem to shift. 

Always so stoic and almost-uptight, he’d expected Mariano to get frustrated like Dimitri did. He expected agitated fingers running through dark hair, brows furrowed as his brain stopped being able to process things as easily. He expected a deep frown, or a scowl.

Instead, tension began to fall away from Mariano’s shoulders. He leaned against the top of the desk more, tilting his head almost lazily as he reread the last question on that side and underlined a part of it. He tapped the pencil against the paper, drawing a looping, repeating shape in the margin as he thought. When he finally seemed to have an answer, he just drew the line to the beginning of his sentence without picking up his pencil. 

Luis watched him flip the worksheet over to the math portion–Mariano loved math, Luis realized, because he beamed. His elevated mood seemed to be more than just subject-related though, because as he wrote in the section where his name went and drew another set of circles next to it, he started shaking and covering his mouth. 

Laughing, Luis realized. Something about this tickled Mariano to his very core, even as he started filling in the math questions. Every time it seemed like the giggle fit was over, it would rear its head again and he’d double over, head against the desk, and his shoulders would just shake. 

“How are his levels?” Luis asked, grinning himself. 

It seemed like it wasn’t just Luis who found it contagious, since Manuel was fighting to keep his expression even. “In the yellow, and dropping, but at least he’s still in a good mood.” Mariano had just decided to keep his head on the desk as he wrote, glasses tilted from the pressure against the hard surface.

As his hypoxia continued, Mariano tried to pick himself up. He’d almost finished both sides, on par with the others. He glanced back up at the top of the paper though, and that seemed to fully do him in. He started laughing again, a faint, wheezy thing where every inhale was a desperate struggle. 

He just couldn’t get any more air, though, and with his eyes fluttering he slumped into unconsciousness against the desk, pencil rolling to the floor. 

“Alright, time. Releasing the seal.” Luis repeated the process from earlier, and as oxygen rushed back in, Luis accompanied Manuel inside. He had to see what had gotten Mariano so giggly. As he helped Mariano to the floor and Manuel got the mask on his face, Luis got a peek at the paper. 

Instead of his name, in not-cursive lettering that gradually dipped beneath the line, he’d accidentally written “Marimo”, then drew a wobbly circle nearby, with tinier circles coming up from it, and a little simple smiling face. As Mariano groaned and started to wake up again, Luis folded up the paper and pocketed it. That had been the happiest he’d ever seen Mariano, especially since joining the war mage program.

He almost wondered if a moss ball in a tiny aquarium would be a decent birthday gift for the teenager.

@cyberwhumper @whumperofworlds @inscrutable-shadow @honeybees-125 @bxtterflystxtches @lektricwhump (SORRY LEKTRIC-WHUMP I'M SURE YOU'RE SUPER COOL)

[fuckyeahfightlock]

Whumpril 2024

-9- Self-doubt

"What did you want to be when you grew up?"

"What, when I was a kid?"

"Yeah, of course." Adam laughed a bit and tugged on the cuff of Harry's jumper. "I didn't mean, like, last year what did you want to be."

Harry caught his hand held it by the wrist, traced the lines in his palm. "Well, when I was really small, the usual. Fireman, bus driver, train driver. For a while I wanted to be the postman."

Adam grinned, imagining Harry having been three or four, enthusiastic about mass transit.

"I thought it would be fun to learn all the houses that had dogs, so I could put little bone-shaped biscuits through the letter slots in the doors. Then the dogs would like me."

"Complicated plan," Adam teased. They were down the road, on a bench in a little grass patch of a park. It was overcast but the air was still. Paper cappuccino cups sat beside them, one empty, one full.

"Later I thought maybe I'd be the first man on Mars."

"God, that's cute."

"What about you? What did you want to be?"

"You know, I don't think I thought about it much," Adam mused. "I wanted to run fast. Wanted to go places, ran away a lot."

"Where'd you go?"

"Down the road a bit until my suitcase got too heavy. Once to the train station, my mum reminded me. It's not that I wanted to leave them, my parents. Just, I knew I didn't belong. And I wanted to get away from that feeling, like physically get away." Adam shrugged. He had to wrestle the risk he felt confessing, "I wanted to be in a group, lip syncing my # 1 while teenagers danced around me on Top of the Pops."

"Yeah, that's no surprise," Harry said affectionately. "All those records, and you're always singing along under your breath."

"You hear that?" Adam asked, knowing it was true but wishing he could believe otherwise.

"Course. In the shower, too. You'd have made a great pop idol."

"No."

"I'd have put your poster on my wall," Harry assured him. "Swooned when you came on the radio. Or the telly. Why didn't you? Start a group? Everyone does that at uni."

"Then the whole world would've seen me prancing about, acting gay. I couldn't have helped myself, and I couldn't have lived with it."

Harry brought his hand up to kiss Adam's thumb. "That's sad. You'd have been amazing. What a waste."

"Yeah, well," Adam shrugged it off, an old dream for another day. "My talents lie elsewhere."

A mischievous smile put a curve in Harry's lips, and he tipped his head toward home. "I'll say they do." He got to his feet and pulled Adam along with him. "C'mon home, you can sing to me in the shower after."

[lingeringmirth]

everything is better with you

Stranger Things | Steddie | Rating: T | Words: 314 | Angst, Established relationship, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, insomnia.

cw: mentions of disordered eating.

Written for @whumpril day 6. dizziness | Also here on AO3.

Steve got up from his chair and the world swayed around him, making him grip the back of his chair for support. Strong arms came to steady him and his first instinct was to shake them off.

‘Eddie…’ he didn’t need it, he was fine. It would pass. It always did.

‘Sit your ass back down, Harrington.’

His last name only ever came out when Eddie was worried about him, which mostly presented as him being annoyed, yet, Steve knew, had learned to read people living as a survival skill in the Harrington house which had never felt like home.

Their little house in Chicago felt like home.

Eddie felt like home. But he’d been gone, had just gotten back from tour after four months of too many missed phone calls and Steve missing him like crazy.

He was pulled into Eddie’s arms and held, tight and loving, in the embrace of those wiry arms.

‘Again?’ Eddie finally asked.

Steve didn’t need to confirm, because Eddie knew. Had seen. The sleepless nights, the disordered eating, the running himself ragged so he’d be distracted from missing both Eddie and Robin, who was off studying at the Sorbonne. Eddie had seen it on his face the moment he’d come home but had given Steve a chance to tell about it on his own, a chance Steve hadn’t taken.

Eddie pressed a kiss to his temple. ‘Sweetheart…’

They stayed quiet for a moment, Steve at a loss for words, wanting to cringe away and hide. Eddie deserved better.

‘Right.’ Eddie broke the silence, running his hands up and down Steve’s back. ‘We’ll order some pizzas and then spend the rest of the day cuddled in bed and snoozing, how does that sound?’

‘Perfect.’

Everything was better with food in his stomach and Eddie in his arms and Steve vowed to not spiral again… like he always did.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 24 No Time to Rest

Days late for day 24 of whumpril

and a return to the Soulmark Au, which I need a better name for it, any ideas?

Pretty much just JacksonXElijah as Hayley off to yell at Klaus, took me far longer to write this than I planned, also this was the one that started off for 'Touch staved Day 20'.

---

Jackson had fallen asleep the night before with both soulmates in his arms, it wasn't perfect with Hope not with them and as Elijah had been suffering through their combined venom to settle the new bond that would protect them and the pack from ever suffering the Crescent curse again but it was almost there.

So he wasn't that happy when he woke up to the sound of Hayley getting out of the shower, alone in Elijah's bed.

They had convinced Elijah not to deal with the side effects of the venom alone. And being on the other side of the river was the least amount of distance from Niklaus Mikealson that Jackson could be happy with; he knew that would be shrinking sooner than he’d like.

Like it or not they shared a daughter, because while Hope wasn’t his blood he loved that little girl, she was family, and Klaus’s reaction to them taking her somewhere safe but away from her was to curse the entire pack, so they would settled close enough that Klaus could see and hear his daughter, and with Elijah staying with them he would have even less to complain about.

He was going to miss living in the Bayou but living across from the Mikaelsons would ensure he could keep track of the threats they happen to lure to the city which means he could use it to help protect his pack. 

Elijah had already arranged the apartment across from the abattoir into Jackson’s name during the month since he had been discovered as their third mark while also working to create the spell to free them.

“What are you doing out here?” Hayley's voice carried to the bedroom, the reply came softer forcing Jackson to rely on his supernatural hearing. 

“I had to get a drink.” Elijah sounded better than the night before letting Jackson release the last bit of tension he had been holding since the vampire had revealed his plan to suffer thought to effects of their bites after they had bitten him.

At the reminder one of his hands reached up to trace the small scars left by Elijah's fangs, set in place to match where his name appeared in Elijah's neck.

The anchors for the magic that had joined them all, Hayley had a matching set while Elijah had two larger scars, his bite on the other man's forearm and Hayley’s just above his hip, where they had both had grown up with the strange symbols they had learned were the runes of Elijah's name.

Four scars to bind Elijah to them and the pack and Hayley and himself to Elijah. It had appealed to Jackson when they had explained, an escape from the curse, future protection and Elijah becoming part of the pack in a way no one could argue.

Then Jackson had witnessed as Elijah suffered through the venom and realised Elijah had just added them to the list of people he would harm himself to help and Jackson didn’t like the idea he was now stuck watching as someone who was meant to be important to him care nothing for himself.

Jackson understood loyalty but Elijah took it to another level, he had little to none for himself, which was something he and Hayley would need to change.

“And couldn't make it back?” Hayley’s quip called him from his thoughts, he could see her expression, the slight smile, silent judgement and arched eyebrow.

“I didn't want to disturb either of you.” Elijah excused.

“Waking up to you missing disturbed me more than anything else you could have done returning to bed.” Hayley managed to explain his own thoughts as well.

“Are you going to pick up Hope?” Elijah ignored the clear reprimand in Hayley’s tone to ask.

“Yes.”

“I’ll-” Elijah started,

“No,” she cut him off quickly, “you stay here and recover.”

“I'm fine.” Elijah tried to argue but against Hayley and after they had spent most of last night watching as he suffered from the venom and his nightmares he was going to lose. Jackson’s pretty sure if Elijah hadn’t woken up before them Hayley would have found a way to keep him in it all day.

“Still, Freya is going to be there and you said you already arranged for the place next to the abattoir.” Hayley refreshed the plan, Elijah had only managed to tell them before the impromptu bonding ritual and had too quickly fallen to the venom to explain after, however Hayley had been texting Freya for details.

“I have.” 

“Then I'll explain the plan, Klaus can deal with having her out of his sight for the night and we’ll move in tomorrow.” 

“Are you sure?” Elijah asked.

“Yes, maybe while I deal with your brother, you and Jackson can start packing.” Hayley told Elijah and Jackson listened as she walked further away towards the door, before she called back “Oh and we're taking your bed, large enough for the rest three of us and it may be the months I've spent as a wolf but that was one of the most comfortable things I've slept on.”

Jackson agreed with that as he stretched out on it but it was better with two other bodies beside him though.

“Of course.” Elijah replied just before the door shut.

Jackson forces himself up from the bed as the quiet grows, there was no point being alone in the bed no matter how comfortable, when Elijah was in the living room, it wasn’t like he could get back to sleep, .

He finds Elijah draped across the couch in the sun. Long and lean, for once out of a suit and in looser fitted clothes, Jackson had to drag his eyes away from the bare strip of skin shown from where his shirt had ridden up.

He hadn’t really allowed himself to admire the other man before, only seeing him as competition and since discovering he was their third mark he was mostly dealing with trying not to lose control of his wolf instincts that wanted nothing more than to cover the man in his scent.

Something the other had listened to since Jackson had found more than a few pieces of his clothes in the other man's bedroom, mostly his flannel shirts and Jackson wished he could see the man in them, it would at least help him with the fact he still wanted to drown the man in his scent.

He’s not sure if it easier on Hayley due to her past with Elijah or as a hybrid the wolves instinct weren’t as loud but Jackson is deeply aware that his desire of cover the other is a remnant of his recent time trapped in the body of a wolf full time, it still isn't enough to stop him.

Elijah tensed as he drew closer but he doesn't ask him what he was doing or even open his eyes, Jackson kept watching carefully for any sign that Elijah couldn't remove him, he still wasn’t happy that the pack inbuilt protection for their mates had left Elijah helpless even if it had forced him to stop hiding.

Still he didn't open his eyes as Jackson placed a hand on the back of the couch, his shadow falling over the other making it clear what his plan was, he stayed almost frozen, Jackson noted as he kept watch while he carefully positioned himself over the other.

Slowly so the other could tell him to stop if he wanted.

Once he had settled he moved the hand he had placed on the back of the couch and slipped it under Elijah’s lower back, Elijah reacted only to lift himself up to make it easier.

Jackson was careful with his hand as he realised it had settled just above where Hayley had left her mark, while marvelling that he could wrap his arm around his wrist, the man was slimmer when free of his layer of fabric and suits.

Mentally he sighs, setting his head on the other man’s chest, with his awareness spread out through his body where they touched it was a constant reminder of the freedom from the curse.

Two legs, two arms, fingers, human.

The heart beating under his ear is slower than a humans but still a soothing rhythm.

“You're cooler than you were last night.” he said to fill the silence and to get the other to speak.

“Side effects of the venom,” Elijah explained and Jackson smothered the urge curled around the other tighter from the sheer apathy in his voice as he talks about the thing that had left him crying in his sleep the night before he should care more about something like that, “it caused a fever as my body had to fight it off.”

“So it's more like an infection than venom,” he questions instead of giving into his instinct, “This your normal temperature?”

“Yes.”

“Well that explains how you can walk around in suits in the height of summer.” he said to led them away from the more sober topic, he was pretty sure Elijah wouldn’t want to know why both he and Hayley want to kill his mother again.

“Yes, I suppose it does spare me needing to change all my wardrobe every season.” Elijah replies and Jackson has a small moment wondering about his wardrobe filled with suits that cost more than Jackson could ever imagine, some likely older than New Orleans itself.

“You're colder than Hayley.” he says instead, he thinks bringing up the cost of Elijah clothes might make him a little ill if he thinks too much on it, how much did the suit he ruined last month cost? the one he remembers chewing on as a wolf.

“Hayley’s a hybrid,” he explained ”we're both cooler than you.”

“Then I will be sleeping on you during the summer.” he smirks at the idea, it might be nice to have a cool body to rest on during the height of the humid nights, while watching the other’s face for any reaction.

“You prefer a cool pad over a soulmate.” Elijah opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow to look up at him with an almost expressionless face, Jackson looked down to meet the dark eyes.

“Why pick, when I have both in you.” he told him, softening his smirk to a smile he normally only shared with his family and Hayley.

Jackson watched as Elijah slowly grinned.

Jackson starred as he noticed Elijah’s grin was crooked, he hadn’t really noticed before, Elijah Mikaelson was a flawless immortal, near untouchable and unchanging, like a cold marble statue.

Yet he was, flawed, touchable, warm underneath Jackson, he stared more even as Elijah noticed his inspection, smile vanishing to be replaced by once again the cool look and a raised eyebrow.

It's the sheer contentment he feels, free of the curse, his pack safely returned to their families, his missing soulmate now known and in reach and Hayley to return with Hope today to start a new life tomorrow with all of them, that leads him to speak.

“Your smile’s adorable.” he grinned himself at the other man taking even more pleasure at the open shock and almost shy way Elijah looked away from a moment.

It was a shame he couldn’t blush, Jackson thought.

They settled back into quiet and Jackson let his eyes close, he could rest for a while before they had to plan for the move.

It was the surprise, which he blamed as he didn’t stop himself from letting out the almost moan of pleasure as strong fingers carded though his hair, he opened his eyes to look at Elijah.

The vampire once again had his eyes closed but Jackson knew this was a sign of trust and besides the soft smile of his face was one he had only seen being directed at Hayley or Hope, it seemed he was going to be getting the chance to see beyond the mask the vampire normally allowed the rest of the world to see.

His eyes followed the arm up until he had turned his head slightly to catch sight of the new scar on Elijah's forearm.

He smothered the urge to press a kiss to it, to trace the mark with his tongue, he and Hayley had agreed while Elijah was lost in the delirium to take it slower with their soulmate, besides they both knew Elijah would be more receptive from Hayley.

He was still struggling to deal with the idea that Elijah had known for a year and never admitted to it, had pushed Hayley to marry him while knowing he belonged with them, had tried to convince them to forget it after they discovered the truth.

He blamed the witch Celeste for hiding them from him first and then Elijah's family for somehow convincing him that his soulmates would be better off without him.

That was the first thing he and Hayley were going to unteach him.

He was blaming the soulmarks, to explain his own softening feeling to the formally cold manipulative bastard, so now he could see why Hayley was in love with the man besides the fact he looked pretty in the suits.

Not that he was any less cold and manipulating now, it was just that Jackson also knew what he looked like when he was crying out for his mother to stop or wide eyed as his lies were seen though and lost for words. 

He was reminded of that after about half an hour as Elijah’s fingers vanished from his hair and he felt him freeze beneath him. It was strange to realise how relaxed the other man had been before as he was faced with a throwback to the stone faced man who he first met as he opened his eyes to find a flat eyed expressively vampire staring back at him.

“Two of your pack arrived outside.” Elijah explained shifting himself up on his elbows, Jackson already missed the soft half smile.

“Yes,” he nodded, sliding his arm free from Elijah’s waist to place his hand on the arm rest behind Elijah’s head, he ignored the fact he was clearly straddling the other and Hayley would complain if she returned to find them like this, Jackson was meant to wait but he really didn’t want to let the other move to far from him now, ”they wanted to talk.” he explained, he had gotten the call while Hayley had been trying to get Elijah to drink and keep it down last night to he had been short with them, annoyed at their concern over the trust worthiness of his mate while the man in question suffered a room away..

“About?” Elijah asked as Jackson settled other hand on the other side of Elijah’s head, framing him.

“You.” he answered without moving, Elijah could move him by force he was stronger, he could ask him to move instead Elijah hummed in response.

“More of a reason for us to move.” he implied but made no attempt to escape.

 “I’m comfortable here.” he smirked, his weight resting basically on the others thighs.

“Jackson.“ Elijah sighed, and he realised he wasn’t the only one who had missed intimacy, he and Hayley had been trapped as wolves most of the time, Elijah was alone dealing with Klaus, looking after Hope and mourning his lover, the one Jackson had heard Klaus had made kill herself in front of him.

“I’m comfortable here,” he repeated, leaning closer to the other’s face.

“They won’t be comfortable speaking while I'm here.” Elijah reasoned instead of showing any true want to move himself.

“They speak their objections or they forget them.” Jackson shot back, soulmates were part of a pack the moment they accepted the bond, the names marked down in their pack’s book the moment they appeared on the skin. Elijah’s runes had been written in the book before Jackson had officially had his own name.

Besides Elijah was part of the pack, not just because of his marks but for the hours Jackson had watched him suffer from the venom to free them and protect them from the curse. Sure his family, mostly Klaus were a problem but not one they could remove so what were they expecting any of them to do about it.

“It’s not like you won’t hear them in the other room.” he added after a moment.

“I do have noise cancelling headphones.” Elijah replied.

Jackson blinked at a dozen mental images from the strangeness of a big pair of headphones clashing against the crisp cut of his suits to wondering if the vampire had the same oversensitivity that heightened senses caused freshly triggered wolves.

He knew the older the vampires the stronger they got, did that include their senses? Or had the Originals always been the same strengths?

His life was a lot easier when he didn’t need to care about these things.

“You're the reason, we’re back on two legs.” he tried instead,

“I don't need any appreciation for my deeds.” Elijah sighed

“Proof in that after a thousand years of watching Klaus” he snapped back before he could stop himself, there was a flicker of pain in the other’s face before it vanished as if never there, Jackson reacted without thinking, letting his forehead rest on the other man in silent apology before adding “Your part of the pack now, they need to get used to you.”

There was no noise in the apartment as they're eyes stayed locked inches from each other, Jackson smiled when the other gave in as Elijah sighed and dropped back from his elbows.

“Must I get involved in their little fights?” Elijah asked, his head rating on the arm rest, hair a finger breath from his hand, it itched to reach out and touch the surprisingly silky strands as he had the night before when Elijah was too out of it to remember.

“It would help once but i’m sure you’ll wipe the floor with them,” he grinned down before adding seriously  “just no teeth, for anyone, i've seen enough of you sick.”

“You were such kind nurses.” Elijah smiled, only a hint of mocking it his tone, before Jackson could stop himself he started leaning forward.

A knock at the door stopped him before he kissed the other and broke his promise to Hayley so much for needing to go slow.

“No time to rest.” Elijah spoke and Jackson had to swallow as he almost felt the words on his lips. 

“Doors open.” he called, sitting up slightly but not removing himself from Elijah.

He grinned at the pair of men that entered when he caught the reaction, the moment they recognized the shorter brown hair of the body beneath him wasn’t Hayley.

“Afternoon gentlemen.” Elijah greeted them as if he hadn’t just been arguing against his own inclusion, and that his place laying on the couch under Jackson was completely normal for them.  

Jackson wouldn’t mind if it became that.

[solrosan]

solrosan's fandom year 2023

Wow, we're doing this late this year!

Because of ReasonsTM, this year has been pretty low on fannish activities, but there are still some things to sum up!

2023 was the year that I…

…stepped down as an OTW Translation volunteer (because of ReasonsTM)

…started a tag that people say they smile/giggle at every time they see

…set my own NaNoWriMo goal at 6000 words and reached 13113!

…unfollowed and refollowed Neil Gaiman more times that I care to remember due to Tumblr being its usual bitchy self (yes, this was related to the Good Omens’ premiere).

…used a free trial on Amazon Prime (also related to Good Omens)

…bought my mum a Christmas present from her current fandom

…realised my April Fool’s joke backfired hard

…gave into bandom

…almost allowed myself to become a kpop blog for real

…spent so many nights watching concert videos

(…actually watched so much INFINITE on YouTube that their algorithm has run out of content to show me)

…fell in love with Richard Armitage and his singing voice

…realised Spotify wraps funny due to the point above

…finally named a very important OC

…found my portable HD again

…had the intention to do Whumpril

…honestly believed I’d finish THE femslash fic

…started posting old fics

...watched more TV than I think I ever have

...can't remember a single thing I watched

(...except Good Omens, Bloodhounds, season 2 of D.P., Moving, and half of the last The Crown season)

...finally moved into the cabin with @elletromil and @insanereddragon (or at least renamed the chat after the day dream)

Stats:

I posted 7 955 words on AO3

They were split over four works

One is new, three are reworked and posted

All of them are in The King: Eternal Monarch

The engagement with them are so low that I won't do a most hits/comment/kudosed

This is the tumblr post with most notes from 2023

(It's also my main project this year, I'm very pleased with the result so far. Still a WIP though.)

Lastly, a huge thank you to everyone who I've talked to this year! You've kept me sane and you've kept me connected to myself. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so sorry if you feel like I've drifted off.

Special shout out to @blau-s and all our discussions about our little AUs. Thank you for sharing, and thank you for listening! We will finish them one day! (Right?)

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Nightmares (Magician's Bait, Part 3)

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 5: Scream / Captivity / "NO!"

Whumpril Day 2 (Sweat), Day 11 (Can't Sleep), Day 18 (Broken Glass)

WoW Whump Event Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

TW: captivity, chains, broken glass, monster, guns, death, knife, magic whump, nightmare, kidnapping mention, arguing

first part | <- previous part | next part ->

Context: It's been four years since Reese's life first went to shit. Although everything's settled down, she still has nightmares about the experience. An old friend and a bitchy magician visit her, seeking aid in the case of Damian's abduction.

-----

She was back in the cell.

The chains on her wrists, the bruises on her arms, the clear, tempered glass that allowed her captors to observe as her life force was stolen from her.

The cold, glass cell.

Reese’s voice bounced off the walls as she screamed for help. The vibrations shook her to the core, echoing from every direction, amplified and distorted. But she didn’t stop.

Not until the answering roar came from above.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

No.

Not the—

The monster barreled past her cell, claws scraping and gouging the floor in its haste for prey. Her.

Reese clamped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late. The monster noticed her somehow, by sight or sound or scent, and charged.

The force of the first blow cracked the glass. Strong as it was, the cell was never meant to hold a creature like that. A werewolf? Werebear?

It didn’t matter what sort of creature it was. As it backed up for a second strike, Reese made herself as small as possible, raising her forearms to protect her face.

The glass shattered at the second blow. The tiny, sharp pieces slashed at the exposed skin of Reese's arms, and something warm and wet ran down her arms, dripping onto the floor. A stray shard sliced through the skin below her left eye.

The monster roared, an ear-splitting cry echoing throughout the entire manor.

And the answering gunshot was just as loud.

Crack! Crack-crack! Crack-crack!

It took five bullets before the creature finally fell. Reese stared at the beast in shock as her savior stepped over its corpse, gun in hand, the glass crunching under his feet. She scrambled back, broken glass digging into the palms of her hands.

“It’s okay,” the guard said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

A strange noise came from above. A sound simultaneously like a hiss and a yowl.

The guard unlocked Reese’s chains and pulled her to her feet. “The experiment has failed,” he said, “you need to get away now!”

“But—” Reese protested, “you—”

The guard led her around the monster's corpse and down the corridor, shrugging off his mottled jacket as he did so. He thrust the coat at her, and she numbly put it on. 

“I’ll be okay,” he said. The voice had changed, and his face became Draven’s. Then Octavian’s. “You need to stay safe.”

They reached the door. The one leading out of the manor and into the forest. “NO!” Reese shouted, pulling away from him. “No… don’t leave me alone!”

“But you’re not alone,” Octavian said softly. When had the gun become a knife? “You have—”

A sharp voice cut through the air, speaking a word Reese did not understand. A rune. Octavian froze mid-word, eyes wide, before crumpling to the ground. Reese screamed, falling to her knees beside him, trying to find a pulse.

“Oh, child,” someone said behind her, “you can’t save him.”

Reese stiffened. She knew that voice!

Kaira snatched her by the arm and yanked her away from Octavian, turning her around. The woman’s face was contorted in rage. “Let’s see if you’re immune to knives too,” she hissed, rune-inscribed dagger raised high.

Reese watched, helpless, as it plunged towards her heart and—

She snapped awake, chest heaving, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her skin was slick with sweat, and at some point, she'd kicked off her blankets. Curling up into a ball, Reese started to sob.

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

Barely an hour later, Reese was sitting at the dining table, wrapped in a blanket and sipping coffee, when a knock sounded from the door. She didn’t need to check a clock to know it was still early in the morning. The first hints of the sunrise had yet to leak over the horizon.

Grabbing her rune-inscribed knife from where she’d left it on the table, Reese silently crept to the door. She paused in front of it, listening.

“...you sure your contact can help us?” a woman’s voice.

“Yes.” The response was short, almost snappish, but recognizable enough.

Reese opened the door, keeping the dagger out of view. “This is early, even for you, Luc.”

Luc jumped, reaching for his akinaka blade before he realized what he was doing. He at least had the sense to look somewhat sheepish. “‘Morning, Reese. Sorry to wake you up.”

Reese eyed the person behind him. Her face was hidden beneath a gray cowl. “I wasn’t asleep. Who’s your friend?”

Luc glanced back at the woman. “She’s why we’re here at such an inconvenient hour. May we come in, please?”

Reese popped her head out the door and checked down the hallway. The lamps had burned low and wouldn’t be lit until after sunrise. Everyone else in the apartment complex was asleep, and the halls were deserted. She nodded and opened the door the rest of the way, leading them to the dining room.

“Coffee?” She motioned to the pot.

“Reese…” Luc’s tone was scolding, but she ignored it as she returned to her seat, setting her knife back on the table in full view of everyone. 

Thankfully, he let the matter drop, pulling out a chair for the woman before seating himself. “What I’m about to tell you is classified information and does not leave this room. Is that clear?”

Reese rolled her eyes. “You know who you’re talking to, right?”

“I need a better confirmation than that.”

“Yes. Understood. Point taken. Clear as glass.” She winced at the metaphor. Too soon.

Luc sighed. “Are you aware of the recent rumors pertaining to the prince?”

“You mean the ones claiming that he was sent to the north as ambassador to the elves? That he’s sick with the plague? Or that he abdicated the throne and the king just hasn’t announced it yet? Or—”

“Yes,” Luc interrupted before she could go on, “those. All those are speculating why the prince hasn’t made a public appearance in over a week. Well… I was just informed of the truth.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Prince Damian has been kidnapped.”

Reese blinked. “...okay…” she said slowly.

“Luc,” the woman said, speaking for the first time since she entered Reese’s home, “how is this child supposed to help us?”

“Caiya…” Luc warned softly as Reese’s hands curled into fists. “Don’t. She is exactly the right person to help. Probably the only person who can help.” 

He returned his attention to Reese. “We—Caiya, some detectives, and I—have determined that the abduction was… well… it was impossible unless the person who did it was a magician, or—”

“Or a Stalker,” Reese cut him off, thinking quickly. “One who Caiya can find, but is too much of a coward to fight.”

Caiya inhaled sharply, but Reese affixed her with a glare. “Save it. I might be young, but I’ve seen a lot of shit.” Her eyes flicked to Luc. “I’ll help, but only because I’m the only one who can, and only if I’m properly compensated.”

“Of course,” Luc agreed, a bit too eagerly. His chair scraped roughly against the floor as he stood. “I know it’s inconvenient, but could you return with us to my office? From there we can figure out our next move and you can speak with His Majesty yourself.”

“Excuse me, Luc,” Caiya interjected as Reese rose, “shouldn’t we let her parents know where she’s going?”

“My parents are visiting relatives across the ocean,” Reese snapped, “and they know I can handle myself.” She snatched her knife off the table and stalked out of the room to change. Responsibility or no responsibility, she was not going to get belittled by a self-righteous magician like Caiya Ebony. She’d faced far worse than the magician had imagined.

When Reese returned to the dining room, knife strapped to her thigh, a bag of essentials slung over her shoulder, and the familiar mottled jacket replacing the blanket, she arrived in the midst of an argument.

“Listen here,” Luc hissed, hands firmly planted on the table. “Magician or not, if you duel her, you will lose. Badly. She won that dagger, and she’d rather be cast into the depths than lose it. And if you challenge her to a duel, I will personally see to it that you face the prince’s captor by yourself. Are. We. Understood?”

“Did I miss something?” Reese asked softly.

Luc flinched and whirled around. His expression was neutral, but his cheeks were red from anger. “No,” he lied, shooting a glare at Caiya.

Reese’s eyes darted between Watcher and magician as she fought to keep the surge of pride from showing on her face. She made a mental note to thank Luc later when the magician wasn’t around. “Well… are we going then?”

“Yes,” Luc affirmed quickly. Too quickly. “Right now.”

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds

[jedi-lothwolf]

Whumpril Day 20: Waiting Room (Alt Prompt 4? 5?)

Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars

Summary: Cody gets hurt and Obi-wan just wants him to be okay.

  The waiting room was silent. Obi-wan waited for a nurse or doctor to come and tell him how his commander was. The Jedi was told that Cody had stopped a kidnapping but gotten beaten up and shot in the process. It was just like the clone to protect people. Obi-wan was proud.

    The child was fine. The doctor, with parents permission, had told him that a few hours ago. Cody needed surgery for his injuries.

    It was quiet, far too quiet. The off white walls felt suffocating. The chairs were hard and uncomfortable. Time felt like it stopped. The clock on the wall taunted Obi-wan. Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days. Nothing else seemed to matter.

    No one else was in the room. Obi-wan couldn't help but think about the people who had been in the room before him. They would've waited the same as him. The pain or relief they felt as the doctor walked in and informed them of how their loved ones were.

    Waiting here in this room was painful. Kenobi was helpless, only able to sit and see if the walls would see another person's life fall apart. The four off white walls had watched hundreds of hearts crumble. As long as lives were lost and those walls stood, they would watch time stop and start for people they never knew the story off. They were unable to provide any comfort to the scared loved ones.

    The general shifted uncomfortably. He leaned back and took a few deep breaths. Everything had to be okay. For now he would sit here; in this waiting room; using it for its intended purpose. Waiting. 

[crinkled-emotions]

Hey G, I have a prompt idea from the list, but I'm not sure if it's something you'd be interested in writing so I said I'd ask first. No hassle if you're not! 😊

I was thinking Uncle Slider looking out for Bradley, when he gets sick, I'm thinking they could be deployed on the same carrier or something idk, and it's one of the firsrt times together when theyre back on good terms after Bradley cutting off Mav (I know you said no mav at the moment, so we can just leave him in the desert on leave haha. Sorry Mav, enjoy the sand)

7 and 22 from whumpril and the first one from the emeto prompts please

Gotcha!! Thanks for your patience, I finally got around to this after that unexpected hiatus 🥰😂

I have changed it up just a little. It'll make sense when you read it lmao.

7. "Numbness/Unsteady/ [You look pale]", 22. "Sponge Bath/Infection/ [Let's get you cleaned up]" and 1. "Straining/losing their voice from retching"

-

"Captain Kerner!"

Slider paused mid-step in the hallway, turning to glance over his shoulder.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Seresin, what can I do for you?"

"It's Bradshaw, sir. I just went back to our quarters to change but he's sick."

"Okay...? Take him to the infirmary if he's that bad."

"He's asking for you, sir."

Slider paused, eyebrow raising.

"Let's go."

Seresin led him through the carrier, practically parting the crowds with his confidence... and his broad shoulders. By the time they got to the room, Seresin was handing over his keys.

"I'm going to bunk with one of my friends for the night, sir. Bradshaw sounds like he could use the room to himself."

Slider frowned, but didn't push it further as the kid disappeared back into the crowd. He gently knocked on the door before pushing it open, surprised at what he saw.

"Bradley."

"Uncle Sli, hey," he croaked hoarsely from his bunk, the room's trash can in his arms. Slider knelt by him, gently putting a hand to his forehead.

"That's one hell of a fever. Alright, up, let's get you into the infirmary-"

"-no!"

Bradley put the trash can on the floor and Slider sighed when the kid scooted forward into his arms. Slider kept his hand on the back of his neck, tucking him into his shoulder like he used to when Bradley was a baby.

-

He'd been visiting Carole once when Bradley had gone down with a fever in the middle of the night and Carole, exhausted after staying up with the four year old all night, had gone to bed. Slider had offered to watch him during the day and Bradley had promptly crawled on to his lap, wrapped an arm around Slider's neck and kept his thumb in his mouth all day. He'd slept for a majority of the day so when Carole came downstairs after her own nap the five year old was back to his usual cheeky self. It was a bittersweet memory, to Slider, knowing Goose would have hated watching his kid sick but loved the moment to hold him a little longer. And Carole, she was gone too. She was gone and despite being on the same carrier working closely for almost four months, Bradley had barely said two words to him until now.

-

With Bradley now back in bed, tucked under a warmer blanket with seasickness medication in his system, Slider made the decision if he couldn't take him to the infirmary he was going to bring the infirmary to him.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

He didn't move, or make a noise, but it was more for Slider's own peace of mind. He tried to remember what Carole or even Mav would do when Bradley wasn't well, what they mentioned in passing. All he could remember was having to pick up the fifteen year old at his mother's funeral and he wasn't sure he could cope with remembering that.

Carole was too good for this world.

-

"Captain Kerner, is everything okay?"

"I need something to stop vomiting and reduce a fever."

One of the doctors on the carrier paused, blinking at Slider.

"Let's get a look at you-"

"-it's not me, it's Lieutenant Junior Grade Bradshaw. He's sleeping it off for now."

"How high is the fever? Give me a moment, let me grab his file and check allergies."

"He doesn't have allergies. He was warm to the touch but not to the point I was going to drag him down here."

The doctor turned from where he'd been looking for Bradley's file, hands on his hips.

"You've felt his fever? Kid has a track record among other docs I've talked to, won't let anyone touch him."

"I knew him when he was little. Long story. What would you recommend?"

"Well, the problem is if he's vomiting, it's hard to get it to stop long enough for the medication to settle. We could try the motion sickness pill, or maybe the liquid form-"

"-I already gave him the pill, but we both know it's going to come back up."

The doctor hummed, pulling the file and dropping it on the desk. He quickly skimmed it, then reached for his prescription pad.

"Do you think you could give him a jab in the ass? Maybe some IV fluids?"

"Nope."

"Perfect, bring him down here and I'll do it."

-

"Rooster- oh, shit."

Slider stepped into the room and grabbed the bucket when he realised how badly the kid was straining himself, brushing a hand through his hair.

"Just breathe, yeah? Slow down."

Bradley groaned, drawing his knees to his chest and trying to stifle his coughing.

"Good?" Slider asked. Bradley shook his head, going to speak but finding he couldn't. Slider sighed.

"Now we're really going to the infirmary. You're lucky you haven't torn something."

Slider watched the kid go to complain or maybe even flat out refuse, but then he put a hand out and Slider helped him to stand, wrapping an arm around his waist. Bradley buried his face into Slider's shoulder, Slider feeling the grimace that crossed his features.

"Goddamn kid, stop growing would ya? I think normal people stop at fifteen, not twenty-five," he grumbled. With a careful hand on Bradley's back, he started back toward the infirmary. He got to the door and it abruptly opened, Slider tightening his hold on Bradley only to find-

"Seresin, what do you need?"

"I just wanted to see if Rooster was okay, sir."

Slider glanced between the two men, Bradley hanging off him, and his eyebrows shot up. He'd seen this song and dance before, many years ago, with a certain two aviators...

He couldn't wait to tell Ice about this later. If Goose had been here-

"He's going to the infirmary, Seresin. How about you give me a hand?"

"Sure."

Seresin came around Bradley's other side, hoisting him up. With his help Bradley and Slider made their way to the infirmary.

-

The doctor Slider had spoken to earlier was already waiting, an exam bed open and waiting. He glanced over his shoulder at Seresin, an eyebrow raised.

"How bad is it?"

"He's not cryin' for his daddy yet," Seresin said, and then promptly shut his mouth. Slider went to tell him off but Bradley groaned, writhing on the bed. Both Seresin and Slider whipped around from their hushed discussion, the doctor ready to put the IV into his arm.

"Which of you wants to hold him down?"

"I got it," Seresin sighed, while Slider sat on the end of the bed and kept his hand on Bradley's knee.

"Hey, kid, you need to look at me. Just keep lookin' at me, don't look at Seresin."

"He stinks," Bradley whispered, an inside look shared between him and Slider. Seresin huffed, rolling his eyes.

"I-"

"-I'm in and we're looking good. Let's give that some time to work through his system, and then hopefully he'll be good to be discharged later today."

The doctor picked up his clipboard and made a swift exit. Rooster tried to roll on to his side but Seresin stopped him, glancing over at Slider.

"Is it safe?" He asked. Slider shrugged.

"I look like a doctor to you?"

"Sli," Bradley croaked. Slider knew that croak and yanked the bucket out from under the sink, helping Bradley sit up. Seresin kept his hand on Bradley's back, making lazy circles more to soothe than encourage.

"You're okay Roos, just breathe. I'm here, Seresin's here. You're alright."

Considering he hadn't managed to keep anything down for what Slider could only guess had been about twelve hours, the retching tugged at his throat and vocal cords. Seresin grimaced, turning away and Slider gently guided the bucket away from Bradley.

"It's okay kid, your stomach is fucking you around. Take a breath."

He couldn't remember where he'd learned to say these things, nor when he'd ever felt so protective over Bradley Bradshaw, but he could see he was scared, and that scared him. Even when he was at his mother's funeral, saying her eulogy with Mav by his side, Bradley never looked scared.

"He's got this... thing," Seresin finally explained, "it's been like this as long as I knew him. I dunno why, it just unsettles him. He's usually a smartass, doesn't know when to shut his trap, but if I get sick near him, or he gets the flu... god, it's like the end of the world. I got two younger sisters and I've never seen anything like it."

Slider frowned, focusing on brushing his fingers through Bradley's curls. With help he lay back down, curling on to his side despite Seresin's concerns it wasn't safe.

"How long have you two known each other?" Slider asked, feeling Bradley rest his head against Slider's side from where he was standing beside the bed.

"Nearly five years. He's a stubborn bastard, but I suppose you already knew that."

"His parents were both like that, and then his godfather, well- he's in some unknown location in Buttfuck, Nowhere because of his stubbornness."

Seresin smiled, reaching down to squeeze Bradley's side before gesturing to the door.

"I'm gonna go clean the room and get some sleep. Give you two some time to talk."

"Thanks, Seresin. Oh, and kid- between you and me, I don't particularly care about DADT. You do what makes you happy, any one who has a problem with that can answer to me."

Seresin's tan hid the blush on his cheeks, but his neck turned a gentle hue of pink and he cleared his throat.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that."

Right as he slipped out Bradley glanced up at Slider, tugging on his hand.

"M'sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to drag you into this. I'll be okay, if you wanted to go back to work, I know you're busy-"

"-don't be ridiculous. You needed me, and here I am. I was there when you were four, and I'm here now."

"I'm sorry that I cut you out."

"I know."

Slider pulled a chair over, taking Bradley's hand and giving it a squeeze. Bradley sniffled, scooting over to bury against Slider.

"You cold?"

"No."

"Alright, kid. Try and get some sleep, I'm not going anywhere."

The nurse dropped off a bowl of lukewarm water and a cloth, and Slider took the opportunity to place the damp cloth on Bradley's forehead.

"Better?"

"Hmmm..."

-

[em-writes-stuff]

“i’m scared”

@whumpril day 10

villain, doctor, hero

683 words

warnings: hospital setting

part one here | part three here 

---

Villain pushes into the hospital with Hero in his arms, “I need Doctor! She knows I’m here, please get her.” 

A nurse looks him over, and sighs, “She’s in room 403, I’ll tell her you’re on your way.”

He nods his thanks and presses the button for the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently for the doors to open. With every second the doors stay closed, more people look his way, their eyes boring into his skin and into his soul. 

The elevator opens and he sighs in relief. He steps in the elevator three people step out, two others get in with him and he presses the button for floor four and waits. 

A mother who got on with her child holds his hand tightly and shuffles him behind her, Villain instinctively makes himself smaller. He sinks into the non-existent shadows of the elevator and looks at the ground. 

The elevator stops and even though the mother pressed the button for the fifth floor, she gets off at the third. Villain doesn’t blame her. Two more people get on, both of them press to the wall opposite of Villain. He purses his lips and nods to them, they don’t nod back. 

The doors open to the fourth floor and Villain steps off and hurries to room 403. Doctor’s sitting on the side of the bed with her head in her hands. 

“Thank you so much for doing this, I know it’s not your favorite way to spend your day,” Villain says. 

She stands up and helps him settle Hero in the bed, “Well, what else could I do? You’d have brought her here anyway and someone else would have to deal with you.” 

“And I thought you loved me,” he said, holding his hand over his heart. 

She smiles and presses a kiss to his cheek, “You caught me. So, what's the story?”

He groans and falls back into the uncomfortable hospital chair, “Oh, the story. Can we get a cup of coffee first?” 

“You can, I have to get her hooked up to an IV and everything. Make it quick though.” 

He hums and leaves the room, closing the door gently behind him. Doctor stares at Hero and huffs. She starts to get Hero changed into a gown and start an IV and then makes some calls and starts on paperwork. 

Villain knocks on the door and pushes it open a crack, then all the way. “I got you a cup just in case. And if you don’t drink it, then I get two.” 

“Very clever,” Doctor says, closing her laptop, “So. The story?” 

“I was going to the bank and she stopped me. Fell once, but got back up, then again and that time she passed out. Brought her here.” 

“I thought it was going to be longer. Do you know how these bruises got there? And what about the bullet wound in her calf?” 

“No idea,” He says, shaking his head, “As far as I know, she’s not gotten into any trouble with anyone since last month and it was just Vigilante. She should be fine.” 

“So this is…” 

“Hero, yeah. I thought I told you that.” 

“You did not.” 

“Sorry,” he takes a drink of his coffee and grimaces, “I always forget the coffee here is shit.” 

She sits down next to him and leans her head on his shoulder, “She’s going to be here for a while from the looks of it. Wasn’t Sidekick with her?” 

He shakes his head and sighs, “Nope, which is weird, right? I mean, I’ve never seen them not together. I’m scared something happened to them that is actually really bad.” 

She looks up at him and presses a kiss to his cheekbone, “You worry too much. I have other patients but you should stay close in case she wakes up. Not the best situation we’re in but I think the less people that know she’s here, the better.” 

“Yeah,” he takes another drink of the coffee and shakes his head, “Yeah, that’s a good idea, thanks. I’ll get you if anything happens.”

[fanfictasia]

Whumpril Day 24

Secrets

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Acolyte

Something about the Jedi was so… familiar. Hauntingly so. He doesn’t know what or how any more than he remembers anything that hasn’t happened in the past year. Some impressions, feelings will come through bit at a time, but nothing… concrete.

Not with clarity.

“The Jedi I fought,” the Acolyte says, standing in front of a hologram of Count Dooku, Lord Tyrannus. “He seemed familiar.”

“He was the same as the one you encountered on Ringo Vinda,” the Sith replies.

“It was something else,” the Acolyte replies. “That presence was…. familiar.”

For a moment, Dooku is quiet. “Don’t get distracted over a Jedi Knight,” he instructs.

His anger flares with a rush. He doesn’t remember but something – something about the Jedi was important to him, and he doesn’t know why. He loathes having to rely on the other Sith, to let them tell him about his own past.

It’s been nine months. That’s just short of a full year, and it’s all he remembers. All that time, nothing has come back to him.

All Dooku would tell him was that it was the Jedi’s fault.

And yet, there are stray moments that the Acolyte is certain everything about this is wrong and that there used to be a time he wasn’t fighting Jedi. That sounds too surreal.

“Who is he?” the Acolyte demands.

“How does it matter?” Dooku responds, “The Jedi must all die, so a new order can come into the galaxy. No one will find peace until they are all dead.”

“Not him,” the Acolyte argues. He’s top important, a quiet voice inside him whispers. And it’s true – there was something about that brilliant presence that pulled at the part of his mind he hasn’t felt in so long.  “He is… different.”

“If you are certain, bring him to me on Serenno,” Dooku commands, “But the mission is our priority.”

He said a name. The Jedi had said a name, and the Acolyte doesn’t… know what his name is. He never has – Dooku said he never knew. The Jedi must be destroyed, but there was something about that one. Did… they used to know each other?

The Acolyte will find him, one way or another, and he will find answers

[drabbles-mc]

Nothing New (Part 2)

EZ Reyes x OFC (Lola Ortega)

Part 1 can be found Here

For Day 22 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: "Let's get you cleaned up."

Warnings: 18+, angst, language, blood/injury

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I think about these two all the time. My brain has been Bad lately so hopefully this still came out okay. I just. I love their angst and their constant push and pull. I want to make life easy for them but I can't lmao

EZ Reyes Taglist: @rosieposie0624 @noz4a2 @queenbeered @choochoo284 @thesandbeneathmytoes @mijagif @withmyteeth @kelpies-shed @louisianalady @gemini0410 @buckybarneshairpullingkink @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @jveudlamoula @passionatewrites @nessamc @winchestershiresauce @artemiseamoon @littlekittymeow @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardburnsupersoldiers @justazzi @solidly-indulgent @danzer8705 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The weeks that followed their last discussion felt precarious. It felt like there were still eggshells hidden around, waiting for one of them to step on them and reduce it to shatters. The distance that time had put between them was hard enough to traverse, but the extra miles that EZ was manufacturing to keep her away just seemed cruel, salt in an already-aggravated wound.

She could deal with limbo, to a certain extent. She expected it, even, as they got back into knowing each other. The usual routine for reconnecting with old friends had gotten thrown out the window the first night they saw each other after so many years apart, so now they were back-tracking and trying to do it over the right way this time. It wasn’t as easy as they’d hoped, especially with the bumps they’d already hit in the road, but they were determined to figure it out.

They existed in the space between friends and something more. It would’ve been simple enough to pretend that their first night together didn’t happen, or that it was just a mistake borne from too much alcohol and too many years apart. But the truth was that neither of them wanted that. Even EZ, for all of his self-sabotage, wasn’t ready to let her go now that he’d had her like that.

But that didn’t mean that he was ready to let her in, either. The push-and-pull of that muddied the waters, kept things from being simple. He could feel himself doing it, too, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. There were a lot of things that EZ still didn’t get into with her. He said precious little about the club. Part of her understood that, understood that there was a lot that happened with the club that anyone who didn’t wear a kutte wasn't allowed to know the ins and outs of. But she still wanted to get a better picture of what it was all about now, what this huge new part of EZ’s life meant for him, and for her, if she decided to stick around.

When EZ had left her apartment the day before, the last thing he said to he was that he’d let her know when he was back safe at the clubhouse. He didn’t say where he was going, didn’t say why, and Lola didn’t ask him to tell her either of those things. She knew that she was going to be met with vague answers, so she took what she had been given. That was well over twenty-four hours ago now, though, and from the way he had been talking it didn’t sound like whatever it was that he was doing was going to take that long. But she’d gone to work, come back home, and done it all over again all without hearing anything from him. So now she was back to sitting on her bed, trying not to overthink it all.

Letting out a deep sigh, she reached over and grabbed her phone off her nightstand, scrolling to the last text message she’d sent him. She sent it late the night before when she could feel herself finally about to go to sleep. Just a short, simple, “Hope everything is okay” that she never got a reply to.

She toyed with the phone in her hands for a few moments before hitting the call button. Part of her knew better than to get her hopes up that he would answer, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

After a long series of rings, she was met with the automated voice telling her that the person she was trying to reach wasn’t available. The couple seconds before the beep had Lola wondering if it was even worth it to leave a voicemail for him. If he didn’t have time to answer a text, it wasn’t more likely that he was going to give her a call back. Taking a deep breath, she managed to end the call just before the beep sounded.

She let her phone drop onto her comforter, running her hands over her face and back through her hair. Suddenly the stillness and silence of her apartment felt like a bad omen, like a calm before the storm. She didn’t know if that feeling would be more or less intense if she actually knew what the hell EZ and the rest of the club were getting into.

Another hour went by, and there was still nothing. No text, no call, no EZ miraculously showing up and knocking at her apartment door. If he hadn’t promised she’d hear from him, she wouldn’t be worrying so much. They were grown, they could go a couple days without talking—they didn’t owe each other anything when it came to that. But he was the one who had said he’d be in touch, and now it was radio silence.

Letting out a groan, she yanked the blanket off her legs, kicking it so that it bunched up at the foot of her bed. Swinging her legs over, Lola got up and made her way over to her dresser, changing out of her pajamas, trading in her comfortable shorts for jeans, swapping out one tank top for another. She swiped her phone off the bed, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans as she left the comfort of her bedroom. She barely slowed down enough to slip her boots on, too focused on grabbing her bag and her keys and getting out of the apartment. It was a miracle that she remembered to lock the door behind her.

It felt unnaturally dark out when she pulled up to the scrapyard. They had a few scattered lights throughout the compound, something between a street-lamp and a light pulled from a high school football field. The light cast off from them just seemed to emphasize the rest of the darkness that was surrounding them.

Putting her car in park, she hopped out. The small handful of times that she’d been there, the gate had been open. She frowned as she looked at the heavy metal, wondering how she was supposed to get herself on the other side of it. Even in her younger more reckless days, that was one gate that she wouldn’t have been able to hop even if she had been stupid enough to try.

Raking her nails back along her scalp, she tried to figure out what her next plan of action was. It wasn’t like she could just call EZ to come and let her in. The fact that it was so quiet had her thinking that no one was around. Then it became a question of whether she was going to wait and hope someone turned up, or if she was just going to go all the way back home to sit and worry there instead.

Just as she was about to slump down and sit in front of the gate, she heard the rattling of the office door being pulled open. She froze, feeling hopeful and like she was trespassing at the same time. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited to see who it was that would be walking out.

The man was whistling, eyes on the ground as he watched his step leaving the building. It was only when he lifted his gaze to turn around that he noticed Lola’s car. Then, looking around, he noticed Lola. His eyes grew wide, but he didn’t flinch.

Lola had no idea who he was, but the Romero Brother’s shirt that he was wearing gave her a little bit of hope. Clearing her throat, she walked over to him. “Hi.”

“The scrapyard is closed,” he said, studying her like he was trying to figure out if he was supposed to know her.

“I know. I, um,” she didn’t know how much she should say, “I’m looking for EZ. He’s my…he’s a friend.”

“A friend,” he repeated.

She nodded. “Yea.” Both of them stood there awkwardly for a moment before Lola realized that she should probably tell this guy who she was. “Sorry.” She held her hand out, not batting an eye at his prosthetics. “I’m Lola.”

“Lola,” he said, like he was turning the word over in his mind. “I’m Chucky.” He paused. “EZ isn’t here.”

Apparently he’d gotten the memo about giving vague answers. “Right. Okay. I just, I’ve been waiting to hear from him and…nothing.”

He frowned at the worry in her expression. “I don’t know where they are.”

She believed that. She just didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. “O-okay. Thank you, Chucky.”

“Do you want to wait here?” he offered.

She couldn’t hide the relief on her face. “That would be great, yea.”

He gave a small nod before walking past her towards the gate. “No one else is here. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She wasn’t as sure about that as he was, but she wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity. After she’d pulled her car in and parked it off to the side out of the way of the clubhouse, she found herself standing in the empty lot, feeling much more out of place than she already had, which she wasn’t quite sure was possible. Chucky lingered with her for a few minutes, clearly unsure about whether or not he should be leaving her there alone.

They were each seated on the steps that led up to the clubhouse, and Lola was about to apologize for holding him up, making his late night even later. However before she could, the sound of motorcycle engines cut through the silence in the air. Both their heads snapped to look towards the gate. Sure enough, hardly a few minutes later, the entire entourage of bikes, and the van, all came rolling in.

Chucky was up on his feet in a second, making his way towards where they were all starting to line up their bikes. Lola managed to get herself to her feet, but she hung back by the steps. She knew that she probably wasn’t supposed to be here for any of this. The less noticeable she made herself, the better.

She watched from the sidelines as each of the men began to dismount their bikes, taking their helmets off in the process. She saw Angel first, which was reassuring. A couple of the other men she didn’t exactly know but she’d seen them before when she stopped by to see EZ. Everyone looked exhausted, beat up in one way or another. However, as the sound of bike engines started to die off, all of them beginning to fall silent, she still had yet to see EZ. Her nails were nearly drawing blood from her palms as she clenched her fists at her side.

None of the guys seemed to notice her as they talked among themselves. Lola watched with bated breath, tears starting to well in her eyes as she waited for any clue as to what the hell was going on. She watched as Angel walked around to the back of the van, sighing as he yanked the back doors of it open.

“Alright, Boy Scout,” he said, sounding more exhausted than anything as he reached to help his brother stumble out the back of the van, “let’s go.”

“EZ?” the name came falling out of Lola’s mouth before she could stop it. Not especially loud, but the surprised yet concerned lilt in her voice caused everyone to turn and look at her.

It was only then that Chucky spoke up, turning and looking at EZ who was leaning on his brother for support, breaking the tense silence with, “Lola came looking for you.”

Angel tried to choke back a chuckle, knowing that it wasn’t the time or the place. EZ just shook his head, peeling his gaze off of Lola and looking at the man who had a knack for pointing out the obvious, “Thanks, Chucky.”

He took that as his cue to leave, giving a nod to the rest of the men who were standing around before taking off back towards the gate to leave. Lola started to make her way towards where everyone was standing, while most of the men started to disperse, heading for the clubhouse. Lola passed by them all without a word as she walked up to Angel and EZ.

“What are you doing here?” EZ asked when she walked up to him.

She frowned at his tone even though she knew it was coming. “I—”

“She’s helping me carry your ass to the trailer,” Angel cut her off, knowing that this was going to turn into an argument that he didn’t want to be part of. He looked at Lola before nodding at EZ. “Help me out.”

Lola was about to loop her arm around the other side of him when EZ waved her off. “I’m good.”

Angel rolled his eyes as the three of them slowly made their way towards EZ’s trailer. “Yea, you’re good. That’s why Creep had to ride your bike the rest of the way back.”

“What happened?” Lola asked, not able to contain her worry, her curiosity.

“Nothing,” EZ’s response came immediately, a knee-jerk reaction as he limped along.

Angel didn’t have the same reservations as he did. “He wiped out. Smacked his head off the blacktop.”

EZ rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad. Leg hurts worse than my head, honestly.”

“Yea,” Angel said with a scoff, “that’s because you’re missing some skin that’s supposed to be there.”

“Jesus,” Lola said quietly, going a few strides ahead of them so that she could pull open the door of EZ’s trailer.

EZ shot his brother a look. “Do you have to make it worse?”

Angel chuckled, shaking his head. “You do that just fine on your own with her, Little Brother.” He paused as he and EZ both awkwardly maneuvered up the stairs. “All those brains and you’re still a fuckin’ idiot.”

Lola only heard the latter comment, and it got an eye-roll out of her even if she wanted to laugh a little bit. “Angel…”

He dropped EZ rather unceremoniously onto the mattress, holding his hands up in surrender once he was done. “He’s your problem now.” He pulled her into a quick hug, and even through the brief gesture she could feel how tired he was. “You good?”

It took Lola a second to realize that Angel was talking to her, not EZ. Clearing her throat, she nodded. “Of course. Go and get some rest.”

“Yea,” he lightly squeezed her shoulder as he pulled away from her. He stepped past EZ as he reached for the door. “Call if you need me.”

EZ nodded, knowing that he wasn’t going to be doing that. “I will.” Once the door clattered shut behind Angel, EZ turned his attention back to Lola. He winced as he moved, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. “What are you doing here?”

“I got worried.”

“I told you I’d let you know—”

“And then you didn’t.”

“Well I wasn’t back.” There was more venom to his statement than he meant for there to be, but he didn’t apologize for it.

He wasn’t wrong, technically. He hadn’t reached out to say he made it back, because he hadn’t made it back. But that also wasn’t the real issue at play here. They both knew that, and Lola wasn’t going to let EZ try and turn their argument into something that it wasn’t.

“I was worried. I’m…I’m allowed that.”

“You can’t just be showing up here,” he said as he shook his head at her.

“You’d have more of a right to be upset about all of this if you were actually okay. But you’re not. I was right to worry this time.”

He shook his head. “I know. But I don’t,” he sighed, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment before looking back up at her, “I don’t want you involved in all this shit, Lola.”

“I’m not involved.”

“If you’re here, you’re involved,” he shot back.

The statement gave her pause. She figured that the reason he made the trek to her place more often than not was because there was just more room, felt a little more like a home than his trailer did. She figured that not really wanting her around the guys from the club was part of it, she just didn’t realize how big of a part it was.

“Well,” she shook her head as she started to gather up things to clean out the road rash that was only partially covered by his torn jeans, “I’m going to have to get involved eventually.”

“Why?”

Her brows furrowed as she looked over at him. “Are you planning on leaving the club anytime soon?”

“No, but—”

“And I’m not leaving you,” she cut him off, soft but firm. “So. You know…yea.”

For just a moment his angry façade cracked and real worry shone through. “What if something happened to you?”

She shook her head at him as she brought her things over. “Seems like you’re the only one who has things happening to them.” She held her hand out to help him up. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He winced a bit but otherwise held his tongue as he allowed her to help him up, trying to keep his weight off of the leg that took the brunt of the damage. If he didn’t know better he’d think that something in his hip got put in the wrong place with how much it hurt to try and move.

When EZ was sitting back down, she set about trying to clean his leg out the best that she could. She knew that there would be no getting him to the doctor over this, so she didn’t even bother trying. “Did you really just wipe out?” she asked as she cleaned.

He sighed, head dropping back so he was staring up at the ceiling. “Lola, don’t.”

“Ezekiel, come on. Even if I wasn’t here tonight, I would’ve seen this,” she gestured to his leg, “eventually. And I would ask then.”

“I know you think you wanna know all of this, know this part of me, but I’m telling you, you d—”

“How long are you going to be using that excuse?” she asked, wanting to sound angrier than she did. Tears started to gather at the edges of her eyes. “How long do I have to stay before you trust me?”

“We’ve hardly known each other for a month.”

She sat back on her heels at that, hurt all over her face. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true. I, I grew up three streets away from you! You played baseball with my brother all throughout high school! Don’t,” her voice shook as she tried not to let it crack, “don’t act like none of that matters.”

“It doesn’t,” he said, shaking his head, “Not when it comes to this.”

They both fell silent after that. Lola finished cleaning and wrapping his leg without much of an issue. She heard him hiss in pain a few times but she knew that if she tried to offer him any words of comfort she was just going to get herself worked up. Having the work to focus on for a bit was good, something to keep her emotions in check.

When she was done, she got up and went to wash her hands in his kitchen sink, still not saying anything to him. EZ watched her, and he couldn’t deny that he felt a wave of guilt over it all. He knew she meant well, that she cared. He knew that she wasn’t just going to walk away, but that’s what made it all so much more difficult for him. She wasn’t the type to turn tail and run out on someone when things got difficult, she never had been. Sticking by him when they were kids had been one thing, it’d been easy—there was no real danger back then. But now there was, and he didn’t want to be the one responsible for hurting her, destroying a life that she’d spent the last ten years building for herself.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

She nodded as she dried her hands. “You’re welcome.”

There was a long pause before he asked, “Are you gonna head back?”

She shrugged—she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Do you want me to stay?”

It felt selfish to say yes after all that he’d said to her. But he also had to think that if she didn’t want to stay, she wouldn’t have given him the option. “If you want.”

A sad, tired smile tried to lift the ends of her mouth. “Okay.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment as she went and grabbed one of his shirts to wear, letting her clothes land in a pile on the floor. She watched as EZ shrugged off his kutte and put it off to the side before peeling his shirt off over his head. He let that fall in the pile with her things as well. When he looked back at her, any calm he might’ve felt over the sight of her there, with him, wearing his things, was erased when he saw the way her eyes were taking in the bruises scattered on his body.

Without either of them saying a word about it, she crawled into bed beside him, neither of them minding the tight fit. She tried to carefully position herself around him so that she wouldn’t aggravate any of his injuries.

After a few minutes of laying there in silence with EZ’s hand lightly trailing up and down her back, Lola said, “I know…I know you look at my life and think that you shouldn’t be part of it.”

He exhaled, visibly deflating. “Lola…”

Propping herself up on her elbow, she looked at him. “You can’t keep using my life against me, using it as an excuse to keep me at arm’s-length.”

He toyed with the ends of her hair that were laying on his chest as she leaned over him. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to protect me from you. If anything,” her hand grazed over the scar running down his arm, “I should be protecting you from you.”

He let out a quiet chuckle at that. “Maybe.”

There was a beat of silence before the heaviness returned. “I don’t want whatever this, we, turn out to be, I don’t want it to be a fight every step of the way. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“I know.”

She shook her head, bringing her hand so that it was cupping the side of his face. “Then you gotta stop fighting me, Ezekiel.”

He rested his hand over hers. “I’m trying, I’m just,” he let out a small laugh, “really bad at it.”

For the first time since he’d left, Lola felt the knot in her stomach start to go away. “Yea, I see that.” She let him weave his fingers through hers. “Pendejo,” she said softly with a shake of her head.

“You’re the one who said you wanna stick around,” he said, a smile on his face despite the exhaustion.

Allowing herself to lie down next to him again, she let her cheek rest against his chest. She pulled her hand away from his face and let her arm drape across him. “I do. And I will.” She felt the ride of the scar on his stomach beneath her palm. “I promise.”

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 14 - Urgent Care

I love whumperless medical whump SO much so this has been eating me alive

TWs: Surgery, awareness under anesthesia, gore, blood, stabbing mention

Tuesday night was going well, Liam thought. He'd only had to help with one surgery that night, and was forty-five minutes into his break when he was paged. "Emergency Room" flashed across the tiny screen.

With a sigh, he slid his hands through short black hair and stood. The rest of his mid-shift meal would have to wait. He was the only anesthesiologist on site at the moment, so whichever poor sap was showing up soon would need him there, just in case.

Pale blue walls passed by in a flash as Liam's shoes squeaked against the tile floors. His favorite nurse, Jesse, met up with him as he neared the emergency room where the others were waiting. "Doctor Beryl!" He said, stark white bangs pinned back, and nervous, light eyes meeting Liam's. "EMS is four minutes away. A young transgender male, severe blood loss reported, apparent knife wounds, it's looking bad."

"Well, good thing I already chugged half a monster, yeah?" Liam said, watching the dark glass of the sliding doors for the ambulance. "Were there any other victims?"

"No, no, just the one. And there's someone already on the way from the nurses' station to meet the...family member? Partner? Whoever the guy is." Jesse checked his watch as flashing lights and sirens screamed into the parking lot. "Oh—and you have your station set up?"

"Always. And we're still on for Sunday brunch? It's your turn to pick, Jess."

"You know it. My turn to pick, your turn to pay." Jesse's eyes crinkling with his smile was the last thing Liam saw before the patient was wheeled in.

A flurry of noise heralded the doors swinging open, and the EMTs rushed in, surrounding a gurney. Clothes had already been stripped away, leaving dark, scarred, bloodied skin open for scrutiny. Gloved hands and gauze kept deep, vicious wounds from letting blood rush forward. Long, black hair was tied back, and equally dark eyes were open and dazed. They wandered, lingering on faces, seemingly trying to follow the ping-pong match of orders and answers.

Liam fell into step with his colleagues as they swapped with the EMTs, replacing their hands and whisking the whole crowd down the hall to the trauma bay. They poked and prodded, setting IV lines and attempting to get answers from the man they worked on as they walked—no one seemed to mind when he couldn't quite answer.

The trauma bay doors swung open to let them into the pristine room, and Liam saw Jesse dart to the blood products. "Grabbing O-negative, two liters."

"Good, good, get the warmer going too. We don't need him going hypothermic." Liam called as the trauma surgeon started to scrub in. "And help Doctor Gene gown up."

He looked to Mariano then as the gurney came to a stop and Doctor Gene spoke up. "Doctor Beryl, start getting him under. His name is Mariano Ortiz."

"On it." Liam pressed sticky leads onto Mariano's skin, then pulled the oxygen mask from his respirator forward, catching Mariano's attention. "I'm Doctor Beryl, I'll be your anesthesiologist." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jesse double-checking the blood was being warmed and the infusion rate was set properly. "All you have to do is breathe and count backwards from ten."

Mariano didn't try to pull away, but Liam saw the peaks and valleys of his already-too-quick heartbeat quicken further. "Hey, hey, it's alright. You don't have to stay awake anymore." He said, pressing the cushioned plastic over Mariano's nose and mouth. "I'll be right next to you the whole time that you're asleep. Close your eyes, Mariano."

Mariano's expression never changed, but Liam smiled behind his mask as he watched him purposely take a deeper breath. Dark eyes grew visibly heavier, fluttering like his lashes suddenly weighed a ton. "That’s it. We have you." Not seconds later, he was asleep, and Liam shifted his attention to the monitors. He watched Mariano fall into deeper sleep, reaching to start tapering the sedative dose into something less heavy.

"Alright, he's under." Liam called, Doctor Gene began to take over and the techs began to swarm again. Electricity filled the air, everyone focused on their specific tasks, guided by Doctor Gene's easy demeanor.

"Analgesics being administered now, paralytic following."

"Let's find this bleed then, start the suction."

"Should we set up the curtain?"

"No, it'll be fine. We can't waste any more time."

Liam let it all fall away, his attention fixed on making sure that Mariano was breathing well as the others worked. Once his airway was secured and he saw that the respirator was doing its job, Liam sat back. Doctor Gene had the most intense job, but the junior doctors didn't call him the hospital's bloodhound for nothing.

Mariano picked a good day to get stabbed three times, at least.

He kept glancing between his three points of concern in regular intervals. Five seconds on his monitors, five on the actual machinery, then five on Mariano's face, always on the lookout for changes. It was routine. Familiar. It kept everyone who came through the operating room safe.

Thirty minutes in, Jesse spoke up. "...Does he look tense?"

One of the others hummed. "Maybe, what was his weight?"

"Two-seventy-one." Jesse answered. "Should we dose him a little more with the painkillers, Doctor Gene?"

"Yes, please. Ten more milligrams, to be on the safe side."

Liam gave the painkillers, watching how Mariano almost immediately started to relax again, then glanced back at the monitors. The numbers were looking good, he was breathing well, and color was even starting to return to his face with the fresh blood circulating through him. Liam breathed just a little bit easier.

Another page came through, almost making him jump. "Emergency Room" it read. "God dammit--" Liam groaned. "We have another coming in, someone keep an eye on the monitors, Doctor Gene knows what to do if he starts to decline."

He hurried out, tossing his gloves as he did in favor of new ones. The ambulance arrived, Liam accompanied the patient back, and after getting them under so that their broken tibia could be reset, he hurried back towards the first trauma bay. With the snap of fresh, clean gloves, Liam took his place at Mariano's shoulder again, and his heart almost stopped.

Almost-black met Liam's eyes, searching, pleading almost. Mariano was awake. His pulse was speeding up. Mariano was afraid. He needed to move. If he didn't fix this, his patient might be traumatized.

Why hadn't anyone noticed?

"Hey Mariano, I see you. We had another emergency come in, but I'm here again." He said, leaning closer and resting a hand on his forehead. His voice was far, far steadier than he felt. He shifted himself to block Mariano's view of his own opened, bloodied body. "Eyes on me, now, I'm the prettiest person here anyway. I'm gonna help you get back to sleep."

Dark eyes locked onto Liam's and he nodded at Mariano. "That's it, I'm going to take care of you, just like I promised." He reached his free hand over to the IV bag that held the anesthetic cocktail. "This is going to hit you in just a few seconds, close your eyes now."

Mariano hesitated, and Liam started sliding his thumb along his brow. Back and forth, like he was trying to soothe a kitten to sleep, Liam kept up the predictable, gentle motion. He eased the dosage upwards, eyes switching between Mariano's face and the monitor showing his vitals. "I'm going to try to make sure that you don't remember this, I know it's not fun." Mariano's eyes started to drift closed again, and Liam felt his own heart start to relax.

He only leaned back again with a sigh when he was sure that Mariano was properly under again.

"C'mon Beryl, you know I'm the real beauty queen here." Doctor Gene teased, before his voice softened. "Sorry we didn't catch that."

"Well--can't say I blame you, those stabs were deep. It happens." Liam admitted. "How's he looking?"

"Just about got him done, then we'll head over for a CT, make sure nothing else is waiting to rear its head. Are you coming with?"

"The other one's a broken leg, and Anise has it locked down until the on-call gets here." Liam kept his hand on Mariano's forehead, watching as Doctor Gene started stitching up the last stab wound. "So yeah, I can actually keep my promise, now."

@whump-captain @whumpr @whumperofworlds @lektricwhump @cyberwhumper @bxtterflystxtches @inscrutable-shadow @honeybees-125

[bg-sparrow]

Fandom: Back to the Future || Rating: T || Genre: Whump, Angst, Some Humor || Summary: In which Marty finds himself living an outlaw’s life alongside Buford Tannen in the Old West, where danger, death, and disease abound.

whumpril 2024 || day 23 - presumed dead

Deep underground, the scrape of chains in the dirt interrupted the distant trickle of rainwater in the mineshaft.  Buford drew his revolver, pointed it to his right—  And lowered it. “Eastwood?” Under his bulbous black eye and layers of aged blood, Marty was emaciated — skin sallow and muscles atrophied. Black flesh festered around the rusted chain on his bony ankle. A weak wheeze snaked up his parched airway. He wore the same clothes he’d disappeared in – four months ago. Buford knelt. He planted his torch in the ground. Not a crumb of food. Just chains. “Who did this to you?”

[lingeringmirth]

anything for a kind touch

Written for @whumpril day 20. touch-starved.

Stranger Things | Steve Harrington centric, minor stancy, Steve & Eleven| Rating: GT| Words: 511 | Angst, Steve has powers, Steve has bad parents, Eleven adn & Steve have a sibling relationship, Steve is an empath, hurt steve, canon divergence.

Also here on AO3.

-

Seven had run away from the lab following the massacre, he’d wanted to snatch Eleven with him, but had lost her in the chaos and then he’d just run, like the scared boy that he was.

He’d run straight to the Harrington’s back yard, been taken in, regarded with suspicion and then kept, like an accessory, something to complete the perfect nuclear family image the Harrington’s strove so badly to portray, even if it was all window-dressing, but look at them, adopting a nice boy, how kind of them.

Being an empath it was hell living in that house, always shirking away from touch, yet not always being able to evade slaps and grabs which showed what his new parents really thought about him, which was anything but kind.

He’d give anything for a kind touch, even a fleeting one, but there’s no-one in his life to give them.

Steve, as he is now, is grateful when he sees his “parents” less and less, even if the loneliness burrows into him and starts eating him alive. It’s why, maybe, that he gravitates towards popularity at school, just to feel like he belongs. But teenagers are messy in their emotions and he gets more and more lost in them until he doesn’t even recognize himself by the end… almost forgetting where he’d come from and who he’d left behind.

It’s Nancy Wheeler who pulls him out, shows him kindness despite how easily, too easily, he brushes away her hesitance, pursuing her as a conquest.

Later, he’ll never forget that he didn’t check up on Barb, that he had been so lost in lust and Nancy to not know what was happening outside his bedroom windows, her distress and fear must have been so loud that he should have felt them even without touch.

His and Nancy’s relationship quickly sours after that, because he can’t take the sadness he feels from her every time he touches her, the festering wound of her grief and quilt, he should stay and comfort her, but he’s not right for her, should stay away.

Especially after he finds out that she knows about the lab, about Eleven.

He wanders into the woods surrounding Hawkins every day, trying to find her, refusing to believe that she’s gone, hoping he won’t fail her a second time.

Eventually, he finds her, dirty and skittish and looking half-feral. She’s older, but he knows it’s her just like she knows he’s him, there’s no need to compare tattoos, even when they do that after a bit. She doesn’t hesitate to do a running leap into his arms, nor does he to hug her tighter than tight, reveling in the contact.

All of her emotions crash over him in a tidal wave at first before she remembers to reign them in, and then it’s the best hug he’s had in four years, because she knows how to block her emotions from bleeding through, so that it can be just a hug.

‘Eleven…’ he sobs brokenly.’

‘Seven.’

He’s right where he’s meant to be.