#aftermath of failure

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2023 | No. 19

Alternative prompt: Aftermath of Failure

1923 s01e02: “If I'd known I would have never split us up. I would have kept us together.”

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 10: Aftermath of failure

Continuation to day 4! (...finally. This is so late)

Soooo this was actually originally split into two days, and it kinda shows. But I didn’t want to have to keep stretching this out, and decided putting them together was okay, even if they don’t fit together perfectly.

Enjoy your extra angst hehe—

Day 4

Read on ao3

Warnings: blood, mentions of injuries, a panic attack, and brief mention of vomit.

————————————————————

Legend was asleep.

Warriors repeated it to himself like a mantra, watching as Hyrule crouched over the veteran and finished bandaging his middle. He knew Legend was asleep because Hyrule wasn’t acting panicked at all, and he could see his chest going up and down even from here.

He was breathing. He was asleep.

Something buzzed in his ear, same as it had on and off for a while now, but Warriors couldn’t make it out. He was pretty sure it was Sky trying to talk to him, the same as he’d been for a while, but he couldn’t focus on what he was saying, couldn’t take his eyes off of where Legend was laying in the grass.

His chest was still going up and down. He was asleep, unconscious maybe, due to shock. But he was breathing, eyes closed, face twisted slightly in pain with his bangs falling over his face. Hyrule was still bandaging his middle, and he’d pulled his bloodstained tunic out of the—

Warriors’ breath stuttered, and his gaze flicked to the blood coating his hands.

Legend’s blood.

Legend’s blood that he’d spilled.

Legend’s blood that his sword had ripped out of him after he’d plunged it into his chest, all because he wasn’t strong enough to resist whatever magic had attacked him, and made him think Legend had betrayed them all.

“Please, I’m not your enemy!”

Warriors felt his breath catch again, swallowing thickly. The memories were still blurry of what exactly he’d done, but he remembered in stark detail Legend’s chest under his foot, his eyes blown wide with an unusual fear as he’d practically begged him to wake up, his scream when he’d stabbed—

“Link, hey.”

Hands clutched at his wrists, trying to get a reaction out of him, the skin cold against his own. Warriors stared at them blankly, palms streaked with faint burns and cuts, and watched as some of Legend’s blood dripped off his fingers and onto his tunic, joining the crimson that was already coated all over his front.

He lurched over and retched.

The hands let go of his wrists, and gently grabbed his shoulder instead, waiting until he was finished. An overwhelming swell of horror and regret swamped over him as he stopped, and Warriors could barely breath, his scarf feeling like it was constricting him.

He’d almost killed Legend. He’d almost killed a fellow hero, a brother, all because of a spell he was too weak to resist.

“Captain, take a deep breath, please.”

Warriors tried, managing a shaking gasp, and what he finally recognized as Sky’s voice tried to get him to take in another. A sting of embarrassment leaked through the horror as Sky gently spoke, and Warriors felt his fingernails bite into his palm as he clenched his fist.

He needed to calm down. He was better than this, he knew how to be calm in situations like this, he’d been trained how to calm down, he needed to remember his training—

Your training that nearly killed Legend.

Warriors heaved in another breath, frantically trying to get himself to calm down. He couldn’t think about it. He just needed to focus on something else.

The hand was still on his shoulder, and Warriors focused only on that, on the small circles it was rubbing, the gentle motions of the fingers going back and forth. He kept his mind firmly from anything else that had or was happening, and eventually managed to pull his breathing under control, taking slower breaths as he calmed his heart.

After a long time, he slowly raised his head and looked at Sky’s face.

The other knight’s face was pale, making the usual eye bags he had stick out even more sharply under his eyes. A bit of blood was drying in his hair, and his lip was split, blood trickling down his chin, but more obvious than any injury was the haunted look in his eyes.

But somehow he still managed to dredge up a smile to send at Warriors.

“Hey Captain,” he said in a soft voice, and Warriors stared at him blankly. “You back with me?”

Warriors’ breath hitched again.

“I almost killed him,” he rasped, the horror starting to trickle back through the temporary wall he’d put up.

Sky’s smile faded, and Warriors swallowed, his throat stinging with bile. He hadn’t meant to say that.

Sky hesitated, and looked like he was trying to think of something to say, and Warriors felt another overwhelming swell of panic and horror overwhelm him, crashing over him like a tsunami.

“Gods Sky,” he choked out, his breath catching in his lungs, “I nearly killed him, I stabbed Legend Sky, he’s only a kid I—”

Sky clutched at his hands again, and Warriors looked at Legend’s blood still drying on his palms.

“You— we, weren’t ourselves,” Sky said in a voice only slightly more steady than Warriors’, sounding like he was forcing his voice not to break. “It was the wizzrobe. We can’t... we can’t take the blame here Wars, it’ll... it’ll tear us apart.”

Warriors let out a truly bitter laugh, and didn’t reply. It already is.

“Link,” Sky continued, his voice agonized. “Don’t—”

“I thought he was one of them Sky,” Warriors interrupted, voice shaking. “A traitor. Someone who’d gone against everything I stand for, kidnapped Zelda or— or something, I can’t even remember, but I thought he was one of them Sky, I—”

His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head.

I’m the traitor.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Sky stayed silent, and Warriors felt bile rise in his throat again as his eyes flicked to the bloodstained grass Legend was lying in, but he swallowed it back, staring down at his hands. Sky’s own were still clasped at his wrists, and Warriors realized his were the ones with the burns and cuts on them, red and painful looking.

“You’re hurt,” he said numbly, and Sky shrugged a little, turning his hands so the burns were harder to see.

“Not too badly. Fi was only helping, and Wind’s a better brawler than I am.” He rubbed his jaw, a softer expression crossing his face. “He can sure hit hard for having such small fists.”

Warriors felt a flicker of pride towards Wind, but the warmth from the emotion didn’t last long. The others really had fought their hardest to keep them all away from Legend.

Look how that turned out.

He breathed out heavily, feeling less panicked and more wrung out all of a sudden, and Warriors raised his head and looked around at their group.

Wind was sitting next to Four and helping him wrap a bandage around his side, the smithy’s tunic bloody and torn. Wind himself had a black eye, and a small cut on his cheek, with half-dried blood staining his chin as well. He was holding a bottle and trying to get Four to take it, but the smithy kept shaking his head and pushing it back towards him.

Hyrule had finished with Legend, and was talking to Time, though Hyrule was pointedly positioned between the downed veteran and the older hero. Both of them were sporting multiple injuries, but before Warriors could study them further, a choked noise made him startle.

He and Sky both turned to look, and saw Wild curled in on himself at the base of a nearby tree, his head in his hands and his forearm bleeding. Twilight was kneeled next to him, talking in quiet tones, and Wild muffled a keening noise in his hands, curling up tighter.

Warriors looked away from Wild, but found himself scanning all of Twilight’s injuries, remembering in an almost detached way that he’d been the one to inflict most of them.

“Keep them away from Legend!”

His gaze went back to the veteran against his will, and he stared in silence at his chest, bandages going steadily up and down, the same as earlier. His face was pale, but Hyrule must have cleaned the blood from it as it was clean, and Legend’s expression had eased a little further.

Warriors swallowed, watching him. Legend looked so small from over here, pale and bloodstained. He may have claimed the title of veteran, but he truly was still a kid, younger then when Warriors had joined the army.

How old was he when he had started saving people?

Warriors jumped at a sudden hand in his face, and he almost fell backwards before he realized it was Sky, holding a cloth in his hand.

“You’re still bleeding,” he apologized quietly, and Warriors hesitated, then nodded, closing his eyes as Sky began to clean the blood off his forehead and cheek. He normally disliked anyone touching his face, but Sky was gentle, and Warriors stayed still as he worked, blinking his eyes against the sudden sting in them.

“Wars wake up! You’d never hurt any of us!”

“It wasn’t you, Captain. It wasn’t your fault,” Sky whispered as he continued, and Warriors couldn’t look him in the eye.

Maybe he was right. Maybe not.

But either way, Legend’s screams wouldn’t be fading from his mind anytime soon.

And he would never forgive himself for hurting him that way.

Warriors looked down at his hands one more time, the smell of blood still sharp in his nose, and Sky continued to clean off his face, hand faintly trembling.

If blood didn’t end up being the only liquid that was wiped from his cheek, then Sky didn’t comment on it.

(...)

It was dark when Legend finally woke up.

He blinked his eyes open, lids feeling unusually heavy as he stared up at the night sky, but he found himself having trouble remembering what had happened before he fell asleep. He felt tired, and heavy, and for some reason there was a heavy feeling of wrongness settled around him. But...

Legend frowned, and turned his head to look around camp.

It was mostly dark and quiet, a campfire providing a bit of warmth and light. Legend blinked his eyes open a little further, and looked around at the others, the sense of wrongness only growing stronger.

Hyrule was tucked beside him, dead asleep with his arm resting on top of Legend’s. He looked exhausted, and his face held a deep frown, his other hand held near his sword. Wind was next to him, and Four stretched out nearby, the smithy sporting several bandages at his side.

On the opposite side of the clearing, Wild was curled into a tight ball under his blanket, barely visible, and Sky was next to him, his face tightly pinched in his sleep. Wolfie sat close by, but was surprisingly far away from Wild, and seemed rather on edge.

Time sat closest to the fire, and Legend couldn’t help but stare at how the older hero was holding Warriors’ shoulders, their foreheads nearly touching as he talked to him in a low voice.

He couldn’t make out the words, but they sounded urgent.

Legend blinked, feeling dizzy and a bit cold, and he tried to sit up, gasping in surprise as the pain he hadn’t even noticed in his middle spiked. Memories came flooding back as he looked down at his bandaged chest, and his breath hitched as Warriors and Time both turned and looked at him, their eyes shining in the firelight.

For a moment, all he could see was armor glinting in the sun, blank eyes focused on him in a glare, a sword raised to stab him through—

You killed the wizzrobe, he reminded himself as his breath caught, they’re not your enemies, they won’t turn on you, they won’t...

Twilight seemed to notice his distress, and he quickly hopped up and padded to his side, using his big head to gently push him back to lying down.

“I’m fine you big lug,” Legend said in a voice that ended up more shaky then he would have preferred, but Twilight ignored him, twitching his tail once, then settled himself on the opposite side of him from where Hyrule was.

Legend exhaled, and ran a hand through the wolf’s thick fur, unable to stop himself from still watching Time and Warriors. Looking at them without their armor on made it easier to separate them from the memories he had of them from earlier, but...

“Traitor to the crown!”

Not entirely.

Time noticed him staring, and met his eyes, looking at him with something that Legend wasn’t sure how to decipher. The older hero turned and said something to Warriors, but the captain looked away, and Time slowly got to his feet, approaching Legend.

He felt himself tense as Time drew near, but Twilight stayed firmly by his side, and the presence of the large wolf helped greatly with keeping him steady. Twilight won’t let him attack.

...not that he will, because the spell is broken, remember?

“How are you doing, Veteran?” Time asked softly as he reached him, sitting far enough away to not make Legend too uncomfortable.

“Fine.”

Time raised an eyebrow at the response, but didn’t push, offering him a water skin. Legend realized then he was rather parched, and slowly sat up again, reaching out to take it. He winced as a flicker of pain struck through his middle, but at Time’s worried look, firmly took the water skin as if daring him to argue.

“I’m alright,” Legend repeated, and took a long draught of water. It was cold as it went down his throat, but the relief was worth it. “How’s everyone else?”

Time sighed, heavy and tired. “About as well as you’d expect. Four was the worst off besides yourself, and Warriors and Twilight were both hurt more then they realized. But nobody’s in danger.”

Legend swallowed. Are they though?

It was silent between them for a minute while Legend finished drinking, shivering slightly as he finished. He could tell he had lost a lot of blood. That was something even Hyrule couldn’t fix, and he would have to just rest and regain it naturally.

Pretty annoying though, he grumbled, tugging his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He hated how cold he always felt after losing a bunch of blood.

The memory of being stabbed flickered in his memory, and his eyes slid over to Warriors, the captain staring blankly at the fire. He wondered how much he remembered of what had happened. The captain had seemed dazed after... everything, and while he’d obviously realized what he’d done, that didn’t really mean he truly remembered.

I hope he doesn’t remember a thing.

“Legend... do you know what that wizzrobe did?” Time asked quietly, and Legend felt a chill go up his spine. “Hyrule mentioned you freezing up, has this... spell, happened before?”

Do we need to be prepared for it to happen again? was the unspoken question.

Legend bit his lip. Hyrule knew why he had frozen up— he’d told him one time after finding a wanted sign with Legend’s face on it— but he’d obviously not elaborated on why to the others.

“I think... it reactivated an old spell through me somehow,” Legend murmured, drawing his blanket closer. “On... on my first quest, there was a sorcerer, a servant of Ganon, who took over the castle. He brainwashed all the soldiers and knights, and they thought I was the enemy for a long time.”

He swallowed.

“But I... I guess the wizzrobe hit me first, and it affected you all, because... you’re knights.”

Understanding dawned on Time’s face, and he leaned back, putting a hand on his chin. “My knighthood is only a title, I haven’t done much to deserve it,” he murmured, brows lowered. “But the spell didn’t differentiate regardless...”

He met Legend’s gaze again, and the veteran startled at the remorse all over his face.

“I’m so sorry Veteran.”

Legend shook his head, and looked down at the bandages covering most of his chest.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered. “The wizzrobe did it. It was infected... that must have granted it extra magic ability.”

Twilight shifted a little closer to him, and Legend ran his hand through his fur again, calming himself down with the motions. Time was silent for a while, watching his hand card along, then sighed, and got to his feet.

Legend flinched in spite of himself.

“I think the captain needs to hear that,” Time finally replied, his voice quiet. “Is it okay if he comes over here?”

No, no it’s not, his mind immediately screamed, glaring eyes and cold words flashing through his mind, a blade stabbing deep through his chest as he choked on his own blood and Warriors’ horrified gaze as he stared at his hands—

“Yeah,” he said in a voice that was much too casual.

Time and Twilight both gave him a look, but didn’t do anything further then that, and Time nodded and moved away.

Legend didn’t watch him reach Warriors, or talk to try and convince him to come over to where Legend was sitting, keeping his eyes firmly on his lap, or Wolfie’s soft fur. Not until a set of footsteps approached again did Legend flick his eyes up, and he felt his heart freeze as Warriors looked down at him.

Suddenly it was earlier again, and Warriors’ face had become a smooth glare, his sword plunging downwards into his chest, and Legend couldn’t breathe through the blood, his vision going dark—

“This— this was a bad idea,” Warriors said, stumbling over his words as Legend tried to get ahold of himself. “I don’t—”

“Stay,” Legend finally managed to get out, determined to beat this. And despite his instincts begging him to just leave, to run, to get away, he looked up and met Warriors’ eyes. “Please.”

Warriors swallowed, and Time’s hand landed on his shoulder, nearly pushing the captain down to sit next to Legend. He was a bit closer than Legend would have preferred, but he swallowed back the fear and distrust that were still trying to choke him, and stayed where he was.

Time looked between them, then left, far away enough to give them privacy, but close enough to help if there was a problem.

Which Warriors was obviously afraid there would be.

Twilight stayed where he was, silent and still, and Legend kept running his hand through his fur, wondering a bit at the fact that he was letting him pet him so much. But mostly he was just glad for the grounding feel of the fur between his fingers.

The silence between him and Warriors stretched on, and Legend avoided looking at him, still staring at his lap. He was afraid he would see those same blank eyes again if he looked up, and he didn’t move, didn’t say anything.

“Legend, I...” Warriors finally began, but his voice cracked, and he shook his head, staring at the ground.

The silence came back with a vengeance, and Legend hesitated, his stomach hurting with more than just his injury. He firmly gathered his courage, and finally looked over at Warriors, and was shocked to see a tear slip down his cheek.

Twilight quietly whined, and Warriors let out a laugh that was really more of a sob.

“I betrayed you, Legend,” he managed to continue, voice more broken then Legend had ever heard it. “I shouldn’t even be over here in case— in case it happens again. I can’t be trusted, I... I nearly killed you, and there aren’t enough words in the world to convey how sorry—”

Legend swallowed, and before he could scare himself out of doing it, leaned forward and pressed his head against Warriors’ chest.

The captain made a choked noise, and Legend squeezed his eyes shut.

“It wasn’t you,” he said, not bothering to hide the tremble in his voice. “It was the wizzrobe Captain, it was a spell, an infected one, I know— I know you would never hurt any of us.”

Horribly enough, Legend felt his eyes begin to sting, but he forced the tears back, and stayed with his head pressed to Warriors’ chest, listening to him try not to cry either.

“Nobody could have resisted that,” Legend choked out, firmly blaming the sudden crash of emotions on his exhausted physical state. “Nobody. So don’t— don't. Don’t blame y-yourself.”

Something shakily rested on his back after a minute, and Legend realized it was Warriors’ arm, eventually joined by the other. Part of him wanted to break away from the contact, his mind screaming that he couldn’t trust the arms encircling him. But the part that was fighting so hard to pound it into Warriors’ head that it wasn’t his fault hung on, and enjoyed the contact, as awkward and messy as it was.

He knew it was just as hard for Warriors to be this close to him as it was for Legend to be near him, and he firmly ignored every memory of blood and swords and screaming, and focused on breathing, his brother’s arms around him.

Not threatening. Not wielding a sword.

Safe.

Twilight moved himself a little closer to the both of them, so that his fur wasn’t just pressed to Legend’s side, and Warriors let out another unsteady breath, trembling slightly.

It would take more time then this to patch back what had fractured, for all of them, but this...

Legend fought back a sob, and felt Warriors’ grip hesitate, then tighten.

This was a good start.

[whumpsday]

K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #1

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, torture, broken bones, whumper turned whumpee, referenced starvation, sadistic whumper

@whumptober Day 1 (Alt): Aftermath of Failure / Playing Cards / Broken

-

"Looks like you're out, leech." The hunter grinned as he revealed his hand, obviously pleased with the outcome. “You know what that means.”

Kane’s fingers scrunched up where they rested on his thighs while the other hunters snickered, like he could protect them if he just hid them well enough.

He stared down at his losing cards with growing dread. “Yes, sir.”

The hunter held out his hand. Kane forced himself to uncurl his right, laying it in the hunter’s. His own deficiencies were even sharper there: his hand was bony from starvation, like his skin was vacuum-sealed around his bones. The hunter’s hand was thick and strong, his job physical and his access to nutritious food unrestricted. His own trembled slightly, while the hunter’s stayed steady and sure in his cruelty.

It didn’t take much. The malnutrition had left his bones brittle enough that all it took was the hunter bending his pinkie finger the wrong way until– 

Snap.

Kane let out a yelp, his finger throbbing with pain. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, not by a long shot. But it still hurt horribly, and would take weeks to heal completely in his state.

“There you go.” The hunter patted his hand–an extra dose of pain jolting through him at the contact. “Now, let’s get you dealt back in. You’ve got nine fingers left, after all. Who knows, maybe you’ll even win yourself a rest.”

“Yes, s-sir,” Kane replied, handing over his cards. He wished so badly that he could go back, play cards with his human again. Those had been some of the highlights for both of them, he could tell. The human always liked playing games. Kane may have made his life hell in many other ways, but at the very least, he never punished the human for winning or losing games. It was just… nice.

But he didn’t get to have nice things anymore.

[how-much-for-a-whump]

WHUMPTOBER day 17:

Altprompt: "Aftermath of Failure"

Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki 52. Bölüm

[dresden-syndrome]

This is how an escape attempt from the EESU State Security department administration looks like.

Day 1 of Whumptober

Prompt: Aftermath of failure (alternative)

Art taglist: @painful-pooch @prismpanic @generic-whumperz @suspicious-whumping-egg

[alicewritingstories]

Whumptober Prompt Fills Part 10: Failure

~Also on AO3~

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.” | Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

Alt 2: Aftermath of Failure (Replacing 16)

Warnings: Discussion of past failure, implied trauma and flashbacks, mention of injury

Central character(s): Time, Wild

The battle was effectively over; even as Time looked around, sword at the ready, the last gold bokoblin fell to a combined attack by Wind and Four, leaking black blood on the ground for a moment before it exploded into smoke. Time sighed and nodded to himself as the others instinctively gathered around the wounded: Wild had been trampled by a lynel as it made its final charge - he'd shot it in the throat just before impact - but was stirring feebly under Sky's hands. Warriors was pulling an arrow out of Hyrule's shoulder while Legend held him down, telling him firmly that he was to accept healing for himself before going to check on Wild and that squirming was just making the wound larger. They all had the usual collection of cuts and bruises, but overall had got off lightly apart from those two.

"I'm going to check there are no more lying in wait," he called.

Twilight had joined Sky kneeling over Wild and was uncorking a potion, but he looked up and nodded. Four and Wind also looked round from hovering between their injured brothers and Four hurried to a ruined wall to climb up it and get a good vantage point. Wind stayed where he was, looking around carefully, his sword still in his hand.

Time smiled proudly and set off.

The battle had taken them into the edges of Wild's Castletown: a sad collection of ruins that, unlike other ruins in Wild's Hyrule, had not been taken over by nature. Only a few green shoots were starting to sprout between cracked stones and the shadow of the deserted castle fell ominously over everything. Once Time had turned a few corners away from where his boys were recovering from the battle, it was mournfully quiet.

Familiarly so.

As Time looked around the ruins of Castletown, destroyed by Ganon while its hero was deep in a magical sleep, his armor suddenly felt strange. He almost thought he heard Navi's voice in his ear, so clear that it made him look round for her.

In the distance he saw Vah Medoh, resting peacefully on its perch, and that reminded him that he was in Wild's Hyrule, not his own. That he was a grown man, no longer a child suddenly thrust into a teenager's body.

He shook his head hard and hastily continued his patrol, just watching for movements and trying not to look too hard at the empty, roofless houses marked with scorch marks.

He couldn't get back to the others too soon.

They had set up camp a little way further from the town and both Wild and Hyrule had been healed. Time smiled and spoke to them in something close to a daze, ate dinner without really being aware of what he was putting in his mouth, brushed off concerned questions, and went to sit on a rock overlooking the town. He knew it was a bad idea. He knew sitting and looking at a standing reminder of the moments after he had left the Temple of Time wouldn't help anything, but he felt drawn to it despite himself.

With a sigh, he picked up his ocarina - not the Ocarina of Time, but his own - and started playing it softly, settling into Zelda's Lullaby to stop himself drifting to the Song of Time.

"Time?"

He startled and looked up as Wild came and crouched down on the rock next to him, balanced on the balls of his feet. The champion nodded a greeting to him, then looked out over the ruins with a sigh.

"How are you feeling?" Time asked softly.

"Still bruised, but barely worth mentioning." Wild shifted to sit down normally and rested his elbows on his knees. After a long moment he said softly, "I hate coming here."

Time looked round at him again.

"I don't remember it except ruined and full of Malice and guardians. I've been back with Zelda a few times - she has big plans to rebuild - and she tries to tell me what it was like before, but…" Wild shook his head.

"What does she say?" asked Time, curious and glad of the distraction.

Wild shrugged. "Busy. Colorful. It sounds like it was a lot like your Castletown, actually."

Time looked back at the ruins. "Yes. It does remind me of my Castletown."

He could almost feel Wild's stare, but wasn't sure how to elaborate.

"I suppose… the fountain is in the same place? Relative to the castle?" ventured Wild.

Time sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry, it's… difficult to talk about. You remember I told you that when I took on Ganon the kingdom was already in ruins?"

Wild nodded.

"Well… Before that happened, the sword made me sleep for seven years while Ganon triumphed. When I emerged…" Time gestured to the maze of crumbling stones in front of them and the dark mass beyond it. "This was what I found."

Wild looked back at the ruins. "How many times did you defeat him? Ganon, I mean?"

"I hardly know the answer to that myself any more."

"But he never defeated you. Well…" Wild's eyes flicked back towards the camp, where a sudden peal of Legend's laughter had just rung out. "I see why you don't like talking about it. Just thinking about it makes my head hurt."

Time chuckled. "Indeed. But to respond to what you're really saying, I did fail. I was a child and I couldn't stop Ganon and that's why I was forced to sleep for seven years until I was taller and stronger, but in the meantime Zelda and the people of Hyrule saw Ganon rise and suffered under his rule and when I emerged from my sleep a thriving town was a deserted ruin." He glanced at Wild and patted his shoulder. "Seven years, a hundred years, and it comes to the same thing in the end."

Wild scowled. "I wasn't a child, though. I just… I don't even remember what happened. Just a couple of moments that tell me we ran." He picked up a small stone and threw it morosely to rattle down the slope towards an empty street. "I don't know why. I don't know what I saw or what I tried to do or if I even tried anything to fight. You did, I assume."

Time remembered Ganon looming over him and laughing as he lay on the ground, a helpless child not even worth killing. "Oh, yes, I tried. But even if I might not recognise Princess Zelda's Appointed Knight, I know the Hero of the Wild and I can't imagine he was all that different. I can't imagine you didn't even try."

Wild made a noise halfway to a bitter laugh.

Time laid a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "It's OK, Wild."

Wild shook his head.

"Wild. It's OK."

Wild shook his head again, but this time he leaned a little closer and let Time wrap an arm around his shoulder. After a moment, he relaxed his head onto Time's shoulder.

"It's OK," said Time again, resting his cheek on the top of Wild's head. The silence stretched as they looked out over the ruins, but Time felt better. His Castletown and his Hyrule thrived. This one was as scarred and weary as its hero, but Wild was healing. One day his Hyrule would do the same.

[rd-eternity]

Whumptober Day 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.” | Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?” ||| ALTs: Decoy | After failure

Words: 3.2k

Summary: A new pack comes to Beacon Hills when they hear Scott's out of town, and seem to think there's no way for them to win against a full pack of werewolves without an alpha. Especially when they convince a certain chimera to join their side, or so they think. Unfortunately for them, Theo always has a plan.

“You should’ve remembered the feeling of drowning before double crossing me.”  His knee drives into the chimera’s back, weight pushing into the claw marks.  He mewls.  “Pathetic,” Winters laughs.  “All you had to do was identify werewolves for us and leave.  Was that so hard?”   He drives his knee deeper, hand coming to the back of his neck to force his forehead into the ground.  Theo wriggles underneath the weight, every inch of his skin torn and burning from the alpha’s claw marks.  His own claws drag across the ground, shaking as they tear uselessly at the wood.  Pain wraps his entire body, his focus on holding onto his heartbeat and chemosignals, shoving what Winters wants at him, flooding the alpha’s senses. It works, given the low chuckle from the wolf on top of him.  “I thought you’re supposed to be some terrifying chimera of death, but even you can’t fight an alpha.” “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have walked through the front door,” he groans against the wood, clenching his fists, claws digging into his palm.  “I expected you to be better than this.” Claws drive further into him, the knee on his back forcing the breath from his chest as his wounds drag across the floor.  “I’m going to kill you, and no one will miss you.  You’re a false werewolf without a pack.”   “And you’re a sad excuse for an alpha,” he bites back.  “Because you saw none of this coming.  Because I do have a pack, and you don’t.  Not anymore.”

[kybercrystals94]

Haunting Failures

By KyberCrystals

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023|Day 23|Alternative Prompt: Aftermath of Failure

Rating: T

Words: 745

Summary: Hunter has a nightmare.

CW: Some disturbing images…nothing too graphic, but I just thought I’d mention it.

Hunter is running, boots pounding into packed, dry earth. Ashes drift like snowflakes against a blood red sky, the sun blotted by dense smoke. Hunter is alone, weaving through a battlefield devoid of life, but reeking of death. Bodies, machine and flesh, litter the expanse of land. Hunter tries to ignore them, tries to focus on the one sound that matters, the one thing that matters.

The one person that matters.

“Hunter! Help me!” Crosshair’s voice. Frantic, desperate. “Please!”

Hunter runs harder. He scales another obstacle, nearly loses his footing.

“I’m falling! Hunter!”

“I’m coming!” Hunter calls out, “Hold on, Cross. Just hold on!”

He sees his brother, panicked movements, hands clawing at the ground, searching for a hold on the barren terrain. The sniper is being dragged over the edge of a ravine; his body tangled in the wires of something pulling him over.

“Crosshair!” Hunter dives for him, catching his wrist just as his brother falls. “I’ve got you.”

“You’re going to let me go,” Crosshair gasps.

Hunter shakes his head. “No, I won’t, vod. Just hold on, I’m going to cut the wires away and pull you up.” Hunter reaches for his blade.

Crosshair stares up at him, eyes wide. “You gave up on me. You didn’t even try.”

“I’m trying right now, Cross, just hold on.”

“It’s too late, Hunter. You let me go.”

“That’s not true,” Hunter grits out, the blade of his knife finding the thin edges of the wires wrapped around Crosshair’s armored body. “Just hold on.”

“I thought we don’t leave our own behind,” Crosshair says, but his voice has changed. His expression has changed. He looks enraged, a fiery glint to his eyes. “I trusted you!”

And suddenly, Crosshair falls.

Hunter blinks, horror clouding his mind. “Crosshair!” he screams into the abyss.

“You let him go.”

Hunter turns and Tech is standing there, holding Crosshair’s helmet. The helmet has a crack near the right temple. Hunter scrambles shakily to his feet. “No. No, I didn’t. I tried…”

“Not hard enough, obviously,” Tech tells him. “Because now he’s gone.”

Tech drops the helmet, and it rolls toward Hunter, stopping at his feet. He stares at it, at the crack, at the familiar visor. He looks back up at Tech. Tech’s goggles are shattered on his face, his armor broken. He is barely standing, swaying.

“I couldn’t save him, Hunter,” Tech says. A thin trickle of blood escapes the corner of Tech’s mouth, and his eyes roll back. He starts to fall backwards.

“No!” Hunter lunges forward, catching Tech’s forearm.

But Tech is gone, and Omega is struggling in his grip, trying to pull away from him. “Let me go! We have to save them!” she shrieks.

“Omega!” Hunter cries, “Listen to me, it’s too late. They’re gone.”

“They’re not gone! You are giving up on them! You’re going to leave them behind!”

Hunter pulls her close to him, kneeling to look her in the eye. “Omega, please…”

“You failed them! You failed all of us!”

“Omega…”

“No! Let me go!” Omega thrashes against him, fists pounding against his chest. “You failed us! You failed us!”

“No, please,” Hunter begs.

Omega snarls. “You never cared about Crosshair. That’s why you left him, isn’t it? You let Tech fall. You let Hemlock take me.”

“No, no, no…” Hunter shakes his head, closing his eyes so he doesn’t see the fury in his sister’s face.

“Hunter!”

Hunter wakes with a panicked sob, sitting upright so fast his head collides with the bunk above him; however, the pain of the impact feels like nothing compared to the turmoil of emotions making his heart pound and eyes sting with unshed tears.

“Easy, easy,” Echo’s voice soothes. “You were having a nightmare.”

Hunter turns to look at the clone sitting beside him. “It felt real…” he pants out, his breaths shuddering in his lungs. “I lost them all, Echo…it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t let Crosshair go…”

“No, you can’t think like that,” Echo says firmly. He takes Hunter’s hand, squeezing it so tight it hurts.

“And Tech,” Hunter continues, “he wouldn’t have died if we had gotten to Crosshair sooner…we should have made him come with us at Kamino. We should never have left him behind.”

Echo shakes his head. “Hunter…”

“And Omega…I promised to protect her.” Hunter begins to cry, the voices of his nightmare whispering in his memories. He failed them. He failed all of them.

END

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista

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[omgiamwish]

Whumptober 2023 Day 18 - Alt Prompt - Aftermath of Failure

[friendlylocalwhumper]

whumptober alt. prompt no. 2: aftermath of failure

“Please, ple-, please, I can’t…” Chapped lips rasp out the faint, desperate words. Tear-beaded lashes flutter slowly. Quinn’s chin wobbles as they try to keep pleading, but can’t find the breath to.

Scar-ridged hands swipe over Quinn’s body quickly, harshly, healing magic seeking out the worst of the damage. They arch up when he presses on their stomach and finds tension that shouldn’t be there. Internal bleeding is bad, especially if they’re already pale and breathing weakly and crying from the pain.

Across the room, Tank lies vulnerable, too, rolling the back of his skull back and forth on the ground. His arms are limp under misshapen shoulders, one of his hips jutting out wrong, his chest purpling from busted ribs. He howled so loudly with each injury that Major’s head is still throbbing. If Major listens very closely, he can hear his big boyfriend moaning deep in his throat.

The brushing at Major’s hip distracts him, and his hands fall from Quinn as he turns to see that it’s Remy’s fingers brushing up against him, reaching feebly. Those big, kind eyes are full of fear, but not recognition. Blood drips down Remy’s cheek from his nose, from the corners of his eyes, from his ears. It sticks his back to the floor, too. Remy healed everyone, healed as much as he could, accepting the lashes from the whip as he went just for the chance to help his friends. Eventually he ran out of magic, and with that exhaustion came the blindness, the bleeding, the frigid skin and fading hearing.

Riku and Sonia lie in a pile where they were trying to protect each other. Sonia fought well, even better than Tank did, but when one of their captors lit up a cigarette, something in her posture changed and she got sloppy, got easier to pin. Major didn’t see what was done to the girls, but they’re being quiet and still and it’s freaking him the fuck out.

The burns across his body hurt, hurt a lot, but he almost feels numb to them right now as he sits heavily and looks over each friend, thoughts slow and jumbled. He just doesn’t know what to do.

Soft fingers keep knocking against his side. They find a shredded sleeve and tug on it, trying to pull him closer. Major jerks away from Remy’s touch, stomach flipping with guilt.

“Please,” Croaks the healer who lost his sight and hearing and too much blood from being too generous. Major slams his hands over his ears and squeezes his eyes shut, knees folding up to his chest.

He can still hear Quinn’s low weeping, and how it’s getting more and more feeble. He can hear Tank’s near-silent whines - he won’t even ask for healing, he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt for him. The girls are too quiet, the captors are gone but not for long, and Remy’s still grasping at him.

The downed healer says something. Major growls in frustration and slides his hands up into his hair to pull on it, tugging frizzy locks in opposite directions. It makes his headache worse.

“...for me,” Continues his soft, drained boyfriend. Remy’s voice is cracking. “Ignore the - can you hear me? The pain. The, if anyone’s d-, dead… look for what’s gotta get fixed, now.”

Major tugs harder and grimaces through the burning of his scalp. Hits the side of his own head once, twice, trying to make his brain work.

Remy has found Major’s thigh and has laid his palm on it. “Bleeding out, cracked skull, ribs bending wrong, internal bleeding.” He’s rubbing Major’s leg in small swipes of his thumb. “Look at who has that.”

Reluctantly, the overwhelmed healer looks over at each body, reading tension and amount of blood spilled and varying levels of consciousness. Tank’s in so much pain, he deserves to be fixed up first, he always gets fucked up so bad protecting everyone - but Quinn’s stomach is full of blood and they’re fading, it looks like - but Riku, Sonia, are they dead or just halfway there?

He reaches down and snatches up Remy’s hand, crushing it in an anxious grip. Remy’s face crumples with discomfort and sympathy. “Weakest breaths, then.”

Instead of looking around, Major closes his eyes and listens, now. Quinn’s breathing is pretty bad. Tank’s is choppy with pain. Riku’s is quiet but even with focus. Sonia’s - he can’t hear it.

Remy’s hand is thrown aside, Quinn shoved out of the way as Major throws himself onto his feet and then skids to his knees beside the pile of two girls. Rough, impatient hands tear Riku up and back, violently unwrapping her arms from around the smaller girl. Riku whines in stress but can’t resist being manhandled, clutching at the stab wounds down her thighs.

Curled up on the floor is Sonia, short black hair ruffled, knuckles swollen, ankle twisted. Her eyes are closed and her chest is still.

He shoves two fingers up under her jaw, presses a palm over her heart, checks if her skin’s still warm. The heartbeat is weak, and… her body jolts once, weakly. An unconscious, spasmodic attempt to breathe. He yanks her jaw down, reaches down unflinchingly to try to find an obstruction in her throat, but there is none. She doesn’t react to him searching. Flustered with distress, aware that her brain could be taking damage already, he just plants one hand on her throat, the other over her lungs, and pours out the first burst of healing magic that he’s dared to use here.

The magic is soaked into her throat, tugged in by the injury, and he figures out after a second that something in there broke. The trachea or whatever. She was strangled, and everyone was too busted up or busy taking their own beating to save her.

“Fuck,” Mutters the healer, and he focuses fully on fixing the small bone. It’s less than a minute before her body rocks, tenses, and then she coughs once before sucking down a ragged breath. Her blue-tinged lips go purple.

If he’d waited another minute, if Remy didn’t help him figure out… he has to keep working, fast. Major leaves Sonia curling up on her side and choking out confused sobs, not even bothering to get to his feet, instead crawling in a wild rush to get back to Quinn. Like Remy said, internal bleeding. His hands press down over the tense stomach and pour in magic to close internal wounds, seal up organs, redirect blood where it should go. Quinn tries and fails to scream with the deep ache of it.

His own nose itches. Major swipes at it with the back of his hand and finds blood. As soon as Quinn’s stomach feels squishy like it should and they’re trying to form words, he abandons them and goes to Tank.

He didn’t even see the shape of Tank’s face from over there. Crooked jaw, crushed eye socket. It looks like he can barely breathe around the trickle of blood down his throat. One eye blinks blearily up at Major, but he doesn’t reach for his boyfriend.

Scarred hands pour out healing magic until the jaw thunks back into place, and the eye socket takes on its old shape, and the left shoulder uncrunches, and the right shoulder pops into its joint, and the hip grinds slowly until it too can be shoved back into its place. It’s odd that Tank isn’t screaming, howling in the thunderous way he did earlier. Major’s cloudy eyes flick up to inspect his boyfriend’s face, only to find that it is stretched in a scream.

A cold, twitching hand rises to feel at his own ear, and comes away bloody. Major backs away from his latest victim and swipes again, paranoid, only to find more blood dripping down from his earlobe.

Movement in the corner of his vision catches his eye, and he finds Remy trying to rise, stuck to the floor by his bloody flayed back. Nausea settles heavily in his gut and Major crawls over, slower than before, to grab his other boyfriend by the shoulders and pin him, healing him simultaneously. The golden light flows down to mend Remy’s back, and there again Major sees screaming that he can’t hear. Remy can’t hear it, either. Nearby, Quinn flinches from the sound.

Blood splatters on Remy’s cheek. For a horrifying moment Major wonders if somehow his skin was punctured from the inside as if there were an alien infesting Remy’s body. But then another small splatter appears, and he realizes his nose feels clogged. Still bleeding from there, then. At least Rem’s almost unstuck from the floor, almost able to get up and cower if he needs to.

Pain explodes in his back, and with an undignified screech that he can’t hear, Major collapses onto Remy. He’s dragged off and flipped over to gasp and blink up at the guy standing over him with a crowbar.

They can’t be back for more already. Everyone was almost dead. Major tosses his head side to side to watch as the other captors find each of his friends where they lie and drag them up, or start a new beating, or pin them to the floor. He might be yelling, might be cursing, he’s not sure. His throat aches already from whatever he’s doing in protest, but it’s hard to tell if it’s coming out coherent at all. The end of the crowbar rests against the underside of his jaw, and Major falls silent, aware of just how easily that dense metal could turn his head into soup.

He can’t hear anyone being hurt, can’t quite see the new damage with the new fuzzy dark spots floating in his vision, but as the crowbar is raised over him, Major knows that all that healing was pointless. He didn’t save anyone.

[quietlyimplode]

the language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: day 28 - Alt prompt - aftermath of failure

Warnings: drugs

Word Count: 1.2k (gif not mine)

Summary: the team goes to find the man responsible for blowing up the avengers tower.

A/N: a little late.. I’ll try and put this one and the next one up today <3 give your loved ones a big hug for me.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

.

2014

BERLIN

Steve looks at his friends in the quinjet.

Natasha sits flying the plane, concentrating on the way ahead, Clint sitting next to her.

True partners, he thinks, and he feels a pang for Bucky, wanting what they have in someone to always fall back on. Sam shifts in his chair and nudges Steve.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently.

Tony sits across from him, his arm in plaster, and bruises still visible, though his eyes are closed he knows he’s not asleep.

“I’m fine,” he answers.

Bruce sits on the other side of him, and he can feel his nervousness.

It feels hard to believe it had been less than a week since the infiltration.

Christmas was fast approaching.

So was the wedding… if there was going to be one.

Happiness had felt just around the corner.

Until it wasn’t.

He wants this to be over.

“How long?” he calls.

“Thirty minutes,” Natasha replies immediately.

.

There’s a castle in the middle of the forest.

It’s picturesque and Tony thinks that it’s probably a place he’d like to buy if it wasn’t swarming with Hydra operatives.

He grins to himself, sends the address and cloaking codes and tells Pepper to buy it.

Jarvis guides Tony, and he flies high over the others.

The Iron Legion flies around, two either side of him.

Natasha drives, towards the base, Clint in tow; whilst Steve circles around on his bike. Bruce remains in the jet, ready to go if needed.

He’d apologised but they’d all reassured him that this was for the best.

Tony hoped that they wouldn’t need him.

He saw the toll it took on Bruce, the pain of the aftermath. He felt oddly protective of his friend and shielding him from the pain of his life.

He shoots the first missile at the tower, the deflection hitting; as Jarvis tells him that there’s a shield over it.

“Thanks Captain Obvious,” he says sarcastically, sending the other four suits to provide back up for the others as Natasha and Clint meet a small resistance.

They surge forward, with no regard for safety.

He watches Natasha smile.

Flying back to Steve, he has Jarvis scan the building again.

“Basement floor,” he confirms.

Relaying the information to the others, he finds the building junction box and sets his own directional EMP.

“See how you like it,” he mutters.

.

Sam flies overhead, seeing all the electricity leave the castle and the panic of a couple of soldiers below. Tony sends the coordinates to his HUD display and he smiles, flies low to Steve and yells.

“Basement! He’s in the basement!”

Tony lands and Sam nods.

“There’s not as many as I thought,” Sam says, heading through the entrance door.

“No,” Tony thinks, “there’s not.”

Steve, Natasha and Clint catch up.

“It seems quiet,” Natasha observes.

Even more-so, as they traverse into the castle.

They come up against one more, that Steve throws his shield at, knocking him out.

The head down; Tony heading their formation, as there’s… no one.

No one comes to greet them and as they move further down, the sense of unease deepens.

Natasha’s grip on her gun tightens.

Clint’s arrow raises higher and Steve stands side by side with Tony, shield in front of him and Sam.

They reach the door, Jarvis confirming that someone is inside and communicate non verbally with each other.

Tony blows the door.

The dust clears and reveals… nothing.

“Jarvis?” he says, a warning tone.

Steve steps forward and stands on a plate, much like the ones at the base of the Avengers Tower.

“Shit,” he says, stepping off and protecting the others from an inevitable blast; only it doesn’t come.

“What was that?” Sam laughs, as he heads into the room behind Steve and Tony, seeing the hallway leading further down.

When they’re all in the room, the door slams behind them, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like we can’t blow a hole in the wall,” he smirks inside the suit.

Jarvis assures again that the only heat signature is from below.

“You’re sure it’s Pogodin?”

Jarvis confirms and Natasha doesn’t feel good about the inevitable trap that lays ahead.

Steve takes the lead.

Pogodin stands ahead of them, arms up and large smile on his face.

“Hello Avengers.”

He puts on a gas mask, his face transforming into one of nightmares.

Tony steps forward.

“Do you know what The Raft is?” he says, threatening.

“Tony—“ Clint starts.

But it’s too late, smoke and gas fill the room and Pogodin laughs manically.

“Do you know what you fear?” he asks, “I know what I fear. It’s certainly not you. I know that whilst you are here, then there’s another team after the sceptre, no one protecting it.”

Tony reaches him, pulling him up with one hand, ripping off the mask.

“It’ll be on a submarine and no way to get it,” he laughs, as Tony throws him against the wall.

“All the want for revenge, and you’ve failed to protect… anything, and it will be your downfall.”

Sam drops first, coughing heavily.

“You didn’t think we knew you would come?”

Sam’s vision blurs and he tries to pull himself to stand, holding onto the wall. Clint is next, and Natasha rushes to him.

He looks at her like she’s a ghost and he touches her face.

“Nat?”

Breathing becomes difficult for all of them except Tony and Steve as more smoke and gas heavily sits in the room.

Tony blows the wall, only to be met with more bedrock.

Pogodin laughs.

“We are in the lower recesses of a castle, where do you think you’re going?”

Tony punches him, his anger rising, again and again with his one good arm and swinging fist, until he’s held back by Steve.

“We need to go,” he says urgently, gesturing to the others.

Natasha points weakly upwards, then raises her gun and shoots Pogodin in the head.

.

Tony holds Clint and Natasha under his arms, depositing them into the quinjet with Bruce.

Both unconscious.

Both sweating.

“Help them,” he says, before flying off to help Steve and Sam.

Urgently, he tries to reach Shield.

Jarvis confirms with Fury that the sceptre is in fact gone and anger curls around him.

He returns with Sam and Steve drives in, all of them back together.

“What happened?” Bruce asks, taking their vitals, as the jet takes off.

“Gas,” Steve says glumly.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks, checking over Sam.

He sits heavily on the seat next to Tony, and rests his head in his hands.

.

[sweetmage]

🔮What's The Harm? (Ao3)🔮

Rating: M

Word Count: 3895

Chapters: 1/?

Pairings: Abdirak/Astarion

Tags: Tav!Abdirak, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Circus, PTSD, Bodyswap, Implied/Referenced Past Abuse (not between these two characters)

Summary: Astarion would do anything to catch a glimpse of his own face. When the opportunity was presented—a simple, momentary swapping of bodies, a circus trick—Abdirak was willing to oblige him despite his reservations...

@badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Painful Transformation (card below the cut)

Whumptober Prompt: Aftermath of Failure

[lemon-grey]

-

It shouldn’t have gone this way.

There should’ve been fanfare, cheering, celebration—the pleasant warmth of the falling action that comes after the high of a battle well fought.

There should have been a victory.

-

[Azure Moon post-Myrddin; Hubert grieves the loss of Ferdinand with the help of a friend.]

Written for Whumptober 2023 alternative prompt: “aftermath of failure”

[99point9percentwhump]

Whumptober 2023 day 8 Alt prompt: Aftermath of Failure

Queensrÿche - Operation Mindcrime Queensrÿche - Eyes of a Stranger Queensrÿche - I Don't Believe in Love

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Roy reflects on the end of his career and Richmond’s relegation.

Based on the alternative prompt: aftermath of failure.

Read on ao3.

[landscaping-your-mind]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Relationships: Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor & Jenny (Doctor Who: The Doctor's Daughter)

Characters: Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), Donna Noble

Additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Time War Angst (Doctor Who), Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - C-PTSD, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Has C-PTSD - Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Trauma, War, Child Death, Doctor and Dalek Comparisons (Doctor Who), Mentioned Jenny (Doctor Who: The Doctor’s Daughter), Grief/Mourning, Soldiers, moral of the story: war is hell and trauma can cause lasting personality changes, esp complex trauma like say being the victim of a genocide, POV Donna Noble, The Doctor & Donna Noble Friendship

Words: 549

Summary:

The Doctor and Donna talk about what happened with Jenny, and the legacy of the Time Lords. --- The Doctor takes a bite out of his biscuit and dunks it again. “I was a lot angrier back then, bit more recent to all of it.” Donna nods like she understands, but she doesn’t, how can she understand? He burned its own planet, lost his own kids — whether to the enemies, the Daleks, it’d called them — or his own actions. How’s Donna supposed to understand trauma from warfare? How’s Donna supposed to empathise? --- Written for Whumptober 2023 day 9, using alt prompt 2. Prompt is aftermath of failure.

Warnings:

Character death (referenced) (inc. child)

Genocide (referenced)

Grief

Pet death (mentioned) (inc. cat)

Torture (mentioned)

War (referenced)

“I think I would’ve killed him,” the Doctor says.

He’s leaning against the TARDIS’s control panel, cup of tea next to him, along with a plate of Jammie Dodgers that he’s slowly nibbling at. Donna wasn’t expecting him to have such a well stocked kitchen, with his skinniness and being an alien and what have you, but he actually had a lot of biscuits — and cakes, because apparently Jaffa Cakes are cakes — in his cupboard. A lot less tea than she would’ve expected, but she supposed that in all his travels it’d’ve found something better. There was a lot of stuff she didn’t recognise.

“Yeah,” she responds, because what else is she supposed to say to that, really.

“Not me, now,” he clarifies, picking up a biscuit and dunking it in its tea. “The regeneration before me, he would’ve killed him.”

Again, Donna doesn’t know how to respond, so she settles for a, “Huh.”

The Doctor takes a bite out of his biscuit and dunks it again. “I was a lot angrier back then, bit more recent to all of it.”

Donna nods like she understands, but she doesn’t, how can she understand? He burned its own planet, lost his own kids — whether to the enemies, the Daleks, it’d called them — or his own actions. How’s Donna supposed to understand trauma from warfare? How’s Donna supposed to empathise? Oh, yeah, when I was a kid, my cat died. This is in any way similar to your grief and guilt over losing your entire planet.

“Not that I’m not angry now,” he continues. “It’s just that… I’ve got a better handle on it, really.”

Donna tries her best not to think about Christmas, not to think about the cold, hard fury in his eyes.

“Better handle on it,” Donna repeats.

The Doctor scoffs. “Fine, I haven’t actively tried torturing anything to death recently, happy?”

“That happen often before?”

The Doctor scoffs again, then is quiet for a moment, before speaking. “I told her,” the Doctor licks his lips, swallows. “I told her that she wasn’t a Time Lord, that Time Lords are a shared culture, shared knowledge, shared suffering. And she told me that I was a soldier, and so was she.”

Donna takes a drink from her mug of tea, letting it continue.

“And she’s right. I’m all we are now,” his voice is emotionless, matter-of-fact. “All that’s left of the Time Lords, just a soldier. That’s all Jenny was, that’s all—“ the Doctor cuts itself off, steadies himself. “It’s all we are, it’s all I am, and— and every part of me that wasn’t a soldier died in the war, and I’ve been trying to grow them back, but I’m never going to be the person I was.”

The Doctor picks up his mug, takes a sip.

“Thank you, Donna.”

Donna is momentarily taken aback. “What for?”

“Letting me be a dad to her,” he smiles, softly in comparison to his usual smiles. “It was nice to have that back, just for a little bit.”

Donna moves closer to the Doctor and nudges him with her shoulder. “I told you,” she says. “You need people.”

The Doctor closes the distance and leans his head onto her shoulder. And for now, despite what they’d just been through, it’s alright.