#also if you put anything in the inbox about canon pumpkin scissors I might end up rambling my head off

[graveyard-in-the-void]

---- Pumpkin Pain ---- (Me? Trying to write whump? With Pumpkin Scissors, it’s more likely than you think!

Now, after reading the manga as far as is translated- I can say that I somewhat abandoned the canon. It’s still an incredible Manga/Anime that I recommend to anyone (especially the anime, the manga gets pretty serious, I would go for both, but if you’d have to pick...)- but there are a lot of major tweaks I did on the atmopshere and themes present in the original work. I feel bad, it were deep themes, but dear god, I just can’t help but rip anything I love into unrecognizable pieces and make it way too light-hearted. Oh well, enjoy if you can!) ------

It hadn’t been easy this time around. Despite no tanks. Only bandits. Maybe that’s why Henry acted the way he did. Lowlife bandits. He had no respect for them. Challenging them to battle, while he told his group to continue setting the car up- They were on dangerous territory, the river nearby had the habit to flood over during the early morning hours… they were on a timer, undoubtedly. And that was why the rest of the platoon acted the way they did. Turning their back, trusting their leader. Because it was Henry Miller. He was incredible. As the last bandit fell, the car roared to live again and all of them gathered again, Henry confidently jumping beside Malcolm into the back of the car- exhausted, but smiling. “There we go. I thought I would have to fix the car by myself too!” Funtime Foxy rolled his eyes at that. “Listen, Lieutenant, while you were in your element, we had to figure out an entire car mechanism. You had fun, we had work.” Henry just laughed. But there was something about that laugh that kind of tipped Malcolm off. Unsure he looked at the small figure next to him. “Lieutenant?” The breaths he let out were absolutely irregular, his whole body seemed to still shake- and it didn’t seem to be only from exhaustion. It seemed- Henry looked at him, his eyes wild, a little bit glassy. “What is it, Corporal?” “Ah, well-“ The Phone Guy had adjusted the mirror, frowning a little as he inspected the scene behind him- he saw it too. Malcolm glanced away again, reaching for Henry’s shoulder. “Lieutenant, are you hurt-“ “NO. No, I am-“ Taking a sharp breath, Henry adjusted in the backseat, shortly his face turning into a grimace. “I am fine.” “Stop the car-“ Malcolm ordered, before his superior instantly fell into his word. “Under NO circumstances stop the car! We need to get this intel to the station! We can’t AFFORD any further delays!” His breath was getting more and more into disarray. “But Lieutenant-“ “INNOCENT PEOPLE, Malcolm! They’ll be SHOT AT. The building is full of civilians and they don’t KNOW that and if we don’t-“ Breaking off, Henry started coughing, and that was when Mal made his decision. “There’s an abandoned hut down the road, sometimes used by the military.” He started slow, his voice deeper and more determined than before. “You and me will get off the car there. Foxy and Simon will go on and deliver the information.” “But-“ Gently Malcolm put his big hand on Henry’s shoulder, causing him to wince a little. “You’re in NO state to make decisions anymore.” “I-“ All the big man needed to do was to carefully squeeze his shoulders, causing him to quiet down. As the road went on, he felt Henry growing more and more limp under his grasp, and the fear started crawling into Malcolm’s very core- The other two were deathly silent too, driving as fast as they could. It seemed like hours, but it were barely a few minutes that they drove, before the Phone Guy brought the car to a halt. Without waiting another second, Malcolm stood up- And Henry tried to follow suit, just to completely fold in on himself. Everyone tried to get to him, but due to position, Malcolm was first, abruptly catching him and raising him up in his arms, feeling the sticky heat of slowly dripping blood creeping over and covering his arms, his heart stopping for a second. Jumping out of the car, while keeping Henry steady, Malcolm looked back only once. “Bring the information to the stationed members of section one. Hurry. I’ll take care of him.” There was another second of hesitation from the other two, however, they knew they had no choice here- not if this mission was supposed to be a success. And if they had any more doubt, Henry’s weak voice remained oddly authoritative. “… go already y-you idiots, what are y-you WAITING for…?” “Yes, sir!” The car drove off, as Malcolm carried Henry off into the hut. It felt terrifying to see Henry in this state. A nauseating mixture of intimacy and terror filled the atmosphere. Terrible, it was terrible, but Malcolm had no choice but to unbuckle his lieutenant’s belt and opening his coat- Just to see that his entire right side was covered in blood. Even more- There were metal- things- sticking out of his side too. Hooks? “What- what were you up against, Lieutenant…?” “… bandits.” He muttered, his eyes staring at the ceiling, clearly unable to focus. “No, these weapons- those- I haven’t see those before.” “… c-creative bandits. They- use… hooks. Does damage- taking them out.” Slowly he breathed in and out, trying to steady himself. “… they will- have to… I think- we should… I-“ “Shhhh, Lieutenant. You- have to save your breath.” “… I am… not dying…” Half-hearted Malcolm smiled, desperately trying to keep himself calm, knowing that now it all depended on him. “Of course you aren’t, Lieutenant.” Slowly he closed his eyes, gathering himself as well, reigniting his determination. “… I wouldn’t let you.” A quiet laugh escaped Henry, before he stopped as Malcolm grabbed his shoulder, pressing him down. “Wh-“ “Lieutenant, I will have to remove the hooks. This will hurt… I apologize. Please- try to hold still.” Instantly Henry weak grip on his arm grew tighter, it was clear he knew what was coming. But he remained quiet. The fear was visible in only his fingers, and his eyes. Malcolm already knew this would hurt him too- so he paused one more second. “… it’s okay to scream.” With that he removed the first hook. The fingers on his arm turned into claws, as he felt Henry desperately trying to sit up, his feet kicking impossibly HARD for someone so hurt- Malcolm wouldn’t back down though. Kicks and scratches and he was sure if he would have managed to sit up, he would have tried to bite him, there was no tactic and elegance left inside of his superior. Only the instinct of an animal trying to escape the pain. However, he refused to scream, the howl kept inside of his throat and closed mouth. “I’m sorry Lieutenant- I’m sorry Henry. It’s going to be over soon.” With that he grabbed the second hook, swiftly getting it out, adjusting the angle- Another breathless and tired noise of pain, Henry trying to throw himself around, twitching- but Malcolm’s grip had no mercy. He was holding him tight, too tight to get himself hurt even more on accident- “Last one. It’s okay. It’s okay Henry.” The body below him was shuddering, lying in his own blood- And Malcolm moved quick, taking it out, getting it done. There was a scream. An actual, loud scream that send a chill down Malcolm’s spine. He was so sure he never heard him scream like that. At all. It sounded to unlike his lieutenant- The only silver lining- and it was none at all- was that he had stopped kicking him so hard. Probably his strength leaving his body, but Malcolm desperately tried to not think about it. When it was all said and done, he had the bandages ready, a needle and yarn too. God, god, he wasn’t- he wasn’t at all prepared to do this. He never did this before- But if he wanted him to live- At least there was hardly any reaction from Henry anymore, he seemed to almost completely lost conscious, only his fingers sometimes twitched, as a little sound escaped his throat. “It will be fine.” Malcolm whispered, unsure if to himself or to Henry. “You will do just fine. You will be fine. We’ll get out of this.” Eventually it went fully quiet, maybe because Malcolm was focusing so much, maybe because Henry finally slipped away. And without thinking any further, he finished off patching up the cleaned and stitched wounds, wrapping them into bandages as well. God, the whole side was ripped open, a fleshy mess- And now, as he looked down at his sleeping, pale, wrapped up Lieutenant, he almost looked- Mummified. It made him feel sick. Sitting down by his side, Malcolm stared at him. Dirty, worn down, sweaty and in pain. That was the last thing he wanted to see him like. He should have STAYED by his side. He should have fought with him. Reaching out, he grabbed Henry’s hand, closing his eyes. When he focused, he could feel Henry’s heartbeat in his palm, and it- it helped a little bit. Right now, Henry was still here, still with him, and had a chance to get better- everything would get better. Tonight he would sleep a second. Not until he knew Henry was alright. Not until Henry’s eyes opened again. When consciousness came back to Henry, he at first almost wished it didn’t. His entire body was in utter agony. He wanted to move, but couldn’t. His head was hammering. Slowly he glanced up at the ceiling, until he had saved enough strength to look to the side- “Henry! Henry, oh god. You’re okay. I knew it. I knew you’d be okay.” It was funny. Funny to see this big man shake. Especially since- it was so rare to see him express such intensity in general. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was hardly a croak. Malcolm stood up. “I’ll get you some water, Lieutenant.” Rushing away, he disappeared from Henry’s field of few, leaving him to ponder what had looked off about Malcolm beside his emotionality right now- Wait- Right. He wasn’t wearing his… jacket. Slowly he shifted the tiniest bit, avoiding the utter agony flaming up inside of him, to glance- That was one way to explain why he was feeling so warm and cozy. The jacket almost covered him completely, it was that big. Falling back, he slowly breathed out, trying not to go mad with pain, trying not to want to scream and trash about, as that would just open up his wounds again… Malcolm reappeared, holding the glass of water, looking distraught. “Uhm- Lieutenant, I- will have to help you drink. You can’t move yet.” “… you think…?” Finally his voice had returned to him, just in time to be sarcastic. However, Malcolm’s face lit up- and for a moment Henry felt better. Kneeling down beside him, he carefully put his hand under Henry’s head, helping to raise it a little, allowing to ensure the least possible amount of pain. Afterwards, he sat down with him again, leaning against the wall. For a while, Henry drifted, unsure if minutes or hours passed… … then finally another thought made it through the haze of pain. “… are you not… cold?” “Huh? Lieutenant?” Surprised Mal looked at him, before shaking his head. “No, I’m fine. Think about yourself first. Please.” “Malcolm. I-“ He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Something about the winter cabin… “… body heat…” It seemed like his subordinate understood instantly, his face changing to shock. … was what he asked that outrageous? He wasn’t SURE and it made him feel so- upset. All these rules, all these regulations. Growing up with them, internalizing them. The high society. The military. The structures that had defined him. All of it, a distant dream now. Now, all that existed was this cabin, Malcolm, and his body that was ripping apart at the seams- quite literally. And all he knew was that he wanted to feel someone else besides him. No- not someone. Malcolm. “A-are you sure about this, Lieutenant?” “… urgh, stop- calling me that… I am… h-hardly a lieutenant right now.” “Henry…” “Please just- do it for me.” There was nothing for a whole minute or two- Then he felt Malcolm slip under the covers and coat besides him, feeling a weird sense of instant relief as his smell and radiating warmth was there. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep almost instantly. There was nothing Henry wanted to do more than move again, properly. He could sit up, but it was impossible to at all shift to the injured side- And he hated lying like this. Malcolm had been cooking, cleaning him and his bandages and generally been trying to dote over his every need. It felt a little bit humiliating. However, every time he tried to see if he could finally stand up- “GOD FUCK-“ “Henry!” … and back down onto the bed he went. Frustrating. He was growing so anxious. “Malcolm. I cannot stand this. I cannot lie around here anymore!” For a moment Malcolm looked at him, trying to come up with some solution for this. “I… could pick you up, Henry?” “Goddammit, Malcolm.” “Wh-what?” “… nothing.” Henry shook his head. “… I would quite like to be picked up. Just so I can at least see the outside for a little before I go stir-crazy.” No more hesitation needed, Malcolm gently picked him up. Warm and save, his arms felt- reassuring. And as he carried him outside, he took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air on his face, the sound of birds and the wind brushing through the trees and grass. He leaned his head a little bit against Malcolm’s chest. And… he felt like smiling. “… we really did it, huh…? I survived and the other two are doing their parts. And the bandits- they are gone. It could not have gone any better.” “I have to say that- I would rather not have seen you hurt, Henry.” “Well, that is your opinion. I would do it all again.”   Softly Malcolm smiled too, looking at Henry’s face, his watchful eyes wandering over the scenery. “… yeah, I fear so too.” It was their last night in the cabin. Message had reached them that their two soldiers would be coming back in the morning, with a transporter for Henry. For now though, they would sleep in here one last time. Malcolm looked at his Lieutenant, watching him sleep, sometimes still wincing during it, as his body had to prevent itself from trying to roll over. At least the taller guy could keep him steady, preventing him from as much damage as possible. He was looking so much better than just a few nights ago. His cheeks had color again. His breathing was strong. He was going to get up again. Softly he chuckled, gently wrapping a strain of his pink hair around his finger. Weird- Henry always called HIM the indestructible one. Yet here he was. Recovering. Growing strong again. He’d get out of this without anything permanent. Maybe even without any ill memory. Because that was just how Henry was. Brushing through his hair, Malcolm felt his heart sinking ever so slightly. This was how Henry was and he should have been more careful with him. All of this damage, it still felt like his fault. Never again. A short thought made it into his mind, as he watched Henry lying there, resting so peacefully. Somewhat he felt bad for it. Maybe even terrible. But frankly, he only knew one good luck charm that had ever worked on him… … slowly he leaned down, close enough that their breath mixed- His heart hammered in his chest, he was fully red in the face. Oh lord. Could he really do this? Really? But- if he wanted to apologize- if he wanted to promise to do better- if he wanted to give him good luck- Softly he leaned and did it. A gentle kiss on the forehead. Then he slipped in next to Henry for one last time, before this man would turn into his Lieutenant once more, requiring a professional distance most of the time. The memory of this kiss though- It would stay with Malcolm. And forever remind him to do better.