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cherrycola27 · 2 months ago

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(blood)lust

Warnings: Blood, language, whump. 18+Minors DNI. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

A/N: Hey, y'all. I'm dipping my toes back into writing and trying my hands at some whump for Whumptober. This is the first of 3 TGM Whumptober fics I'll be releasing!

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When most people thought about immortality, they idolized it. They coveted the idea that they could cheat death, make a fortune, or travel, or be a part of the future that everyone dreamed of but would never be around long enough to see.

Yes, the idea of immortality had a certain air to it that drew you in like a moth to a flame, and no ever really thinks about the consequences. Just like the moth going toward the light, unaware of the fate that was waiting for it, he too was enticed by the idea.

Moreover, he was more drawn to the idea of not dying in a medical tent in the Carolina wilderness, miles away from his home, fighting for a nation that didn't even exist yet.

He was young, barely twenty-five, able-bodied, and brawny from years of working on his family's farm when the revolution broke out. He had so much to live for, so many things he wanted to do. So when the field doctor with the mysterious eyes came to him offering a cure to all of his pain and suffering from the gunshot wound to his shoulder that would surely end his life, he agreed without hesitation.

Looking back now, he realizes that maybe he should have turned the doctor down and died with the rest of his friends. The pain that came after he agreed was far worse than any gunshot. The sound of the blood rushing through his ears was louder than any cannon fire, and the burning sensation in his veins was hotter than any camp fire or summer day back on the farm.

But peace came after that. For a while—at least. Then came the thirst. The one that no matter how much water or wine or ale he drank—it couldn't be quenched. Then there was the hunger. The deep, insatiable hunger that no meal could touch. The hunger that hurt so deep in his stomach that he thought he would surely parrish as he stumbled through town that night.

Until he stumbled upon the man in the alleyway, too drunk to walk, that had cut himself on his whiskey bottle. And that's when he smelled it. The blood. Fresh and warm and oozing like red gold down the man's fingertips and onto the cobblestones. And it that moment, he knew exactly what he needed to satisfy the craving that nothing else would touch. In that moment, he realized what the doctor he'd never seen again had turned him into, a creature he'd only heard about in tales that parents told to scare their children.

That night, as he feasted, he had an epiphany, he'd been granted a gift, and he wasn't going to waste it.

.......................

Two hundred and some odd years later, he didn't feel the same about his "gift" as he did back then. In fact, it was more like a curse. He was damned to wander the earth forever, which meant he was damned to be alone. He'd watched everyone he ever loved die. First, starting with his mother in the winter of 1781, then, his wife and son ten years later during childbirth. He'd tried saving them the way the doctor had done for him, both times, when he'd sunk his teeth into the soft, supple flesh of their necks and tasted their blood, he couldn't stop. It was like a demon possessed him, inhibiting him from hearing their cries and blinding his vision until he'd drained them dry, leaving their bodies limp and lifeless in his arms.

For a while, he vowed never to try again and never to love again until he knew he could find a way to keep her forever.

So, for the next two centuries after the death of his wife, child, and mother, he practiced. Starting on small animals at first, working his way up to larger ones, the eventually people.

He'd successfully master the art of turning, and now, he needed to find the perfect mate. Someone to spend eternity with.

He suspected that it would take him a while to find the right one. He certainly wasn't expecting it the night he walked into the bar and was hit with the most enticing scent he'd ever experienced.

He followed it until he found you.

You were exactly what he was looking for. You were probably around the same age that he told people he was. You were beautiful. A stunning natural beauty that drew him to you.

An aura that called him. A beacon of light in his darkness.

So, he walked right up to you, and asked "can I buy you another drink?"

You turned to the handsome stranger who'd offered to buy you a drink and gave him the once over. He oozed charisma and charm. His eyes, that could only be described as golden, sparkled as he flashed you a stunning smile.

"Sure, thing. I'll take another tequila on the rocks." You told him. He laughed before ordering one for each of you.

Once that glasses appeared before the two of you, you cheersed before extending your hand and introducing yourself.

He took your out stretched arm and brought the back of your hand to his lips, and placed a kiss there. "Charmed to meet you, darling. I'm Bradley, Bradley Bradshaw."

Bradley didn't miss the way your pulse quickened as he held your hand. Nor did he miss the blush that crept to your cheeks. He continued to sit there at the bar and talk to you for hours. And the longer he did, the more it affirmed for him that you were definitely the girl he had been looking for you. You'd been the perfect girl to have around forever. Now, he just had to convince you of the same.

..............

If Bradley has learned anything in his 273 years of life, it's patience. If he was going to convince you to be his eternal bride, he knew he'd have to play the long game. He wasn't deterred by the fact that it may take months, maybe even a few years, to convince you. He had been waiting to find someone like you for over two centuries. A little longer wouldn't hurt. Which is why he was perfectly fine in agreeing to take the relationship that was budding between the two of you as slowly as you wanted.

Bradley had also learned to be discreet about who—what he was. As the world moved on, and his age stayed the same, Bradley made sure never to stay in one place for too long. He also learned that taking jobs that kept him away for long stretches of time helped provide the perfect cover for when he needed to sneak away and feed.

Right after he was first turned—the fledgling stage, he would later learn what it was called— Bradley wasn't as careful when it came to choosing his meals. Anyone who had the misfortune of crossing his path when his thirst arose would become one of his victims. He couldn't bear to be around people because the tangy metallic scent of their blood drove him mad with need.

Later, he learned to control it. He could function in society and keep up the act. And for a while, it worked. Until he took the wrong person as a meal.

She was the daughter of the local pastor, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. After she disappeared, the police began looking, asking questions. Bradley became paranoid that someone saw him, that he wasn't careful enough.

So he fled town and vowed to himself that he'd only feed on people he knew wouldn't be missed. Criminals, the homeless, vagrants, and vagabonds with no one to come looking for them, no one to ask questions.

He'd come to San Diego about ten years ago, claiming that he was twenty-two. Shaving his mustache and letting his hair grow helped make it believable. The one thing all the stories get wrong about being immortal is that your hair and nails stop growing. They don't. And for that, Bradley was thankful.

Because of this, he learned he could spend about fifteen to twenty years in one place before speculation arose. A shaggy haircut and a beard can do wonders for a person.

............

Maybe that's why it was so easy for you to believe that Bradley was thirty-three. Despite the fact that he seemed like an old soul, wise beyond his years.

He also told you he was in the Navy and that he was an aviator, which meant he had frequent deployments and trips for work that he couldn't tell you about. Which is why you never questioned him when he told you he was leaving for a few days or weeks or months the longer the two of you were together.

You never suspect that half of those "trips" and "deployments" were, in fact, times when Bradley traveled somewhere to feed.

He was smart. Making sure to go to a different state, so if what was left of the body was ever found, it could never be traced back to him.

He had a system, a routine, a schedule that worked and kept him under the radar and undetected for decades. It worked for him, and eventually, he would share his secrets with you, and the two of you would stay in the shadows together forever.

...............

You were busy in the kitchen of the house you and Bradley shared. He was due back from his latest deployment today, and you wanted to make sure he had a hot meal waiting for him. You wanted to make sure he had plenty of fuel for the plans you had later for the two of you.

Not that he ever seemed to need it. Your boyfriend had the most amazing stamina. More so than any partner you've had before. He told you it because he was an elite fighter pilot, the top one percent, and being the best at everything was in his blood. You had to agree with him. Bradley could go for hours, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you, and never asking for more than one of his own in return.

You shivered as you flipped the steaks that were in the grill pan you had on the stove. You pulled the one for Bradley off the heat while leaving yours to cook a bit longer. He always preferred his more on the rare side, while you favored a more medium cooked steak.

You'd just finished setting the table when you heard Bradley's keys in the door. "Honey!" You squealed as you launched yourself at him. He easily caught you and held your frame against him.

"Hello, My Darling Girl." Bradley smiled as he kissed you passionately. His lips glided across yours before he trailed them across the column of your throat, stopping when they reached the juncture of your neck and shoulders. He grazed his canines over the pulse point that was thrumming just below your delicate skin.

"Bradley—" you groaned into his neck, gentle pushing on his chest. "Yes, Darling?" He asked you, pulling you closer to him. "I made dinner." You chuckled. "We can eat later. I missed you, My Darling Girl." He whispered against your ear.

"No, I want to make sure you have plenty of fuel in you for the plans I have for you later." You laugh again before dragging him to the dining room for a hot meal, blissfully unaware that the food you made would have no effect on your boyfriend.

That night, you let Bradley carry to your shared bedroom and strip you down the crimson lingerie you'd chosen specifically for the occasion. You let him tear the delicate lace from your body with his teeth, and then, you let him make love to you for hours until both of you were sated and his cum was dripping down your thighs and sweat covered your skin.

In the early hours of the morning, Bradley lay quietly beside you, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept. It had been two years since that faithful day he met you and knew you were destined to be his mate. As he watched you, he knew in his heart that it was time to tell you about his plan. Hopefully, you wouldn't take much convincing, and under the next new moon, he'd take you up to one of his—hunting— cabins and change you. He'd find a perfect first feed for you, and teach you everything you needed to know. Then, once your fledgling phase was over, the two of you would have a bonding ceremony to seal your love forever.

Bradley could feel that the time was coming soon. All the work he'd put in. Moulding you—grooming you— shaping you into his perfect mate would soon come to fruition.

.....................

Bradley had been acting—different— the past few weeks. Not different in a bad way, but doting on you much more than normal. He'd taken you out to a few fancy dinners, bought you some new clothes, and he came home every day with a new flower arrangement. He'd also given you the most beautiful necklace you'd seen. Honestly, you weren't sure how he afforded all of this, and when you asked him about it, he told you not to worry. He'd been so calm lately. You hoped he would be that way when you gave him the news you'd just received.

You waited patiently in the living room for Bradley to come home. When you heard his keys in the door, you jumped up to greet him. "Hello, My Darling Girl." Bradley smiled before kissing you passionately.

"Bradley, come sit. I have some news to share with you." You told him as you led him by the hand to the couch. His mind raced with what it could be.

Could you be pregnant? It wasn't unheard of for his kind and mortals to have a child together. That was how he lost his first wife, Elizabeth, and his son, Nicholas.

Her body couldn't handle the labor. Thankfully, Bradley knew what to do this time. If you were pregnant, he'd start the changing right before you gave birth. The strength the change offered you would see you through the labor.

His heart raced at the idea. Maybe this was the second chance he'd been waiting for.

"Bradley." You let out a long exhale as he sat there waiting patiently.

"Yes?" He eagerly replied.

"I've been offered a job!" You told him excitedly.

"What? You already have a job." He said dejectedly.

"I know, but this is a promotion. Head of the new office in Virginia. Isn't that wonderful? I know it might take some time to get your transfer in, but my office is willing to work with us. You could be back home! We would be so much closer to your family!" You bounced with excitement on the balls of your feet.

"Darling, it sounds like a wonderful opportunity, but I'm happy here. I don't want to move." Bradley told you. His voice was more stern than normal. Your smile fell from your face.

"Wha—what do you mean? Bradley, this is everything I've been working for. I've supported your career with your deployments and moves more times than I care to count in the past few years. I know it seems like a lot, but this is what I've always dreamed of. Why can't you see that?" You pleaded with him.

Bradley inhaled sharply. "We aren't moving to Virginia. That's final." He said with no room for argument.

Rage bubbled inside you. How dare he say that to you. After all you'd done for him.

"You're right. We aren't moving. I am." You deadpanned.

Bradley turned on his heels. Your words hit him in the chest like a dagger. No, he thought. No, no, no. After all the work he'd done, there is no way he's letting you leave him now. You were staying with him whether you liked it or not. Bradley had worked too hard to let you go. He'd spent decades learning to control his temper. The unbridled rage that could come with what he was. He'd kept it under wraps for decades. But hearing you say that you'd give him up so quickly? It caused something inside of him to snap.

................

You weren't sure what was happening. One minute, you were packing a bag to leave. The next, you felt a jolt of pain shoot through your neck. Then, your whole body felt like it was on fire, burning from the inside out. You cried out for Bradley, begging him to help you, to save you from the invisible attacker. But instead, all you heard was a voice that almost sounded like his, whispering in your ear that it would all be over soon.

...............

When consciousness came back to you. It was slow. The first thing you noticed was the smell. You weren't wrapped in the warm vanilla scent of your home. No, you were somewhere near the woods. You could smell the dirt and hear birds somewhere in the distance.

The next thing you noticed were the sheets. The soft cotton ones of your bed had been replaced by a stiff and scratchy flannel.

You slowly opened your eyes and sat up. You didn't recognize the room you were in. The walls were bare and wooden. Some kind of a cabin, maybe. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, and that's when you felt it. The thirst. The overwhelming urge to drink. But you didn't want water. You wanted something else. You just didn't know what.

"Hello?" You called out tentatively, unsure of who else was there.

"My Darling Girl. You're finally awake." You whipped around so fast you made yourself dizzy. Bradley stood before you, his large form leaning on the door frame. Only something was off about him. He wasn't the Bradley you once knew. He stepped forward and smiled, and for the first time, you noticed how prominent his canines were. Had they always been like that?

"Bradley. Where am I? How did I get here? Did you—did you kidnap me?" You shriek, eyes darting around the room. You try to breathe, but you can't get any air into your lungs.

"Darling, calm down. You're going to hurt yourself. Tell me. How are you feeling?" He says so smoothly.

"I feel like I want to know what the fuck is going on." You spit at him. "Where are we?"

"We are at one of my hunting cabins. I figured it would help with the adjustment if we weren't near people." He tells you

"H—help with what adjustment?" You say as you clear your throat. A burning sensation creeping in. "What—what did you do to me?" You say as you being to claw at your skin.

"I changed you—for the better. I made you perfect. The perfect mate for me for all eternity. I know it must be a shock, but you'll get used to it. I'll help you, My Love." Bradley tells you as he glides across the room to you and turns your towards the mirror you hadn't noticed before. You look in it and see yourself, well, almost yourself. Something is different. You just can't place it. You trace your eyes over your features, and then you see them. Two small puncture wounds on your neck. Your hand flies to to them.

"Don't worry, they'll go away. But these—" Bradley says, and he pulls your gums back to reveal your new elongated canines, "these are permanent."

You run your tongue over your teeth and wince at their sharpness. "Don't worry. You'll get used to them." Bradley assures you, taking a step back. Just then, you hear a thump in from another room. "Ah, perfect, looks like it woke up just in time." He smiles.

"What do you mean 'it'?" You ask him harshly. "Your first feed, My Darling Girl. I know you feel the thirst. Every fledgling does. I know it did. Believe me, your first feed is always the hardest, so I brought you one. I wanted to make this as easy as possible for you." He says almost kindly.

"Easy? You wanted to make this easy on me? Bradley, you kidnapped me and brought me to the middle of nowhere and turned me into a—a—a—" you can't finish your sentence.

"Vampire. It's okay, you can say it, dear. I turned you into a vampire so we can be together forever. Of course, I hadn't planned on doing it this early, but when you said you were going to leave me, I knew I had to act then. I've spent the past two years grooming you into the perfect mate for me. I knew it was you from the first time I picked up your scent at the bar. Ideally, you would have willingly let me change you, but it doesn't matter now." Bradley tells you calmly.

"You've been planning to do this to me ever since you met me? How could you! I trusted you! I loved you. I thought you loved me?!" You wailed. "I do love you. That's why I did all of this. Why I brought you to my hunting cabin. Why I found a first feed for you. Why I've practiced for years getting the art of transforming right. All for you." Bradley says.

"I'm not the first person you've done this too?" You ask in disbelief. "Well, I had to practice to get it right. After I lost my mother and my first wife because I failed at transforming them, I vowed never to do it again until I perfected it. I started on small creatures and then worked my way up to people. But don't worry. I killed them after. I couldn't have a bunch of my own creations trying to kill me." Bradley laughs.

"First wife? Creations? What the hell is wrong with you. How could you ever think I'd want to spend my life with you after what you did to me? How long have you been like this?" You fire questions at him.

"I was born in 1751, changed in 1776 by a field doctor during the Revolutionary War. I've been practicing turning since about 1900. But I never let my creations live long after I turned them, lest they take revenge and try to kill me. You see, the movies and the books have it all wrong. Garlic and wooden stakes aren't what kills a vampire. We can only be killed by a dagger through the heart by our creator or one of our creations. A creation killing their creator also reverses the effects. Turns them human again. I couldn't risk that so I made sure to take care of that before it became an issue." Bradley explains to you.

"You see, I've been alone for so long. I was married to a wonderful woman, Elizabeth, but she died during childbirth. I couldn't save her. I vowed to myself that I'd never love again until I could keep her forever. And you were the one I choose for that, My Darling Girl. You're special, perfect, my perfect mate. I picked you out of everyone." Bradley tells you as he cups your face. You look in his eyes and don't see the man you once knew. He's long gone, replaced by this—monster. But if you wanted to survive, you knew you'd have to play into his fantasy.

"I see now. It all makes so much sense. Now I know why you didn't want me to leave." You say what he wanted to hear.

"Exactly. And in one year's time, when your fledgling phase is over, we'll have a bonding ceremony, sealing our love with a blood pact, so we can never be separated." Bradley tells you with a smile.

"That sounds wonderful." You lie to him. "I knew you'd see my way. Now, let me help you with your first feed." Bradley smiled as you let him lead you by the hand to the other room.

...................

Lying to someone for a full year is much harder than anyone expects. But you knew if you wanted to survive, and for your plan to work, you had too.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. Even though this wasn't what you wanted, you looked stunning. A long-sleeved, lace, stark white gown hugged your body. A crown of blood-red roses on your head. Exactly what Bradley wanted you to wear.

You stepped out of the cabin your home, no, your prison for the last year and made your way across the field. The bright light of the full moon illuminated the area, causing your dress to practically glow in the light.

Bradley was standing near the edge of the clearing, waiting for you. You could see the glint of the bonding dagger in his hand reflecting in the moonlight.

"My Darling Girl. You look breathtaking. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment." Bradley praised you as he took your hand in his.

"Are you ready?" He asked you. "I've been ready." You smile at him.

Bradley takes the dagger in his right hand and makes a slice across his palm, then hands it to you. Your fingers wrap around the grip tightly.

"I've been dreaming of this moment all year." You tell him. "I've been counting the days."

Bradley smiles, unaware of the true meaning of your words.

You grip the dagger tightly and raise it up. Bradley waits with baited breath and watches your palm, ready for you to slice the skin. Instead, he feels something sharp pierce his chest. He looks over to see your hand wrapped around the dagger that is now in his heart.

You pull it out and watch the blood drip from the blade, staining your once pristine gown.

"My—My Darling Girl. What have you done?" Bradley asks you as he stumbles back. More blood oozes from the wound as he drops to his knees.

"I'm taking back my life. And I'm not your darling girl anymore." You sneer before he collapses dead on the ground, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream.

You feel the exact moment he dies. You feel it in the pain, searing through your body and leeching out of every pore of your skin. You feel as though you may die, but you know it's worth it.

You black out and fall to the dirt.

When you finally wake up, it's daylight. You run your tongue over your teeth, and the once sharp canines are gone. You stand up and find that your white dress is now a deep shade of maroon, and the man you once loved has shriveled up to almost nothing. You give his remains a kick, and they turn to dust, blowing away in the breeze.

You pick up your dagger from last night and walk back to the cabin and find the bag you pack. You sling it over your shoulder and grab the keys hanging from the keyring near the door. You climb into the blue Bronco that had once belonged to Bradley and drive away from the cabin, from the woods, from him, and from the nightmare, you just woke up from.

Tagging those who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @beyondthesefourwalls @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @horseshoegirl @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @mshistorylover @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @angelbabyyy99 @bobfloydsbabe @sunlightmurdock @sebsxphia @atarmychick007 @queenlmno @sweetwhispersofchaos @mamaskillerqueen @withahappyrefrain

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #tgm #tgm fic #whumptober2024 #whumptober #(blood)lust

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womenwhump · 2 months ago

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About Women Whump

Just discovered the concept of whump and was like "oh. that's what I like". Only to discover the terrible lack of whump focused on women. I understand why it can feel complicated, a lot of the ways women get hurt in media are very misogynistic, and people who glory in seeing women vulnerable and hurt is something a lot of women have dealt with irl, myself included, and reminders can be tough

However. There is plenty of media where women are get injured or are emotionally compromised where it isn't about misogyny but treating them as like, you know, full people and characters who are having their own adventures. There's great queer and platonic content about women comforting and caring for other women, plenty of this media is BY women...ignoring all this is pretty sexist and denies it to the people who need their food.

So I'm going to dip my toe in this and post my own little collection of cool moments in fiction. Nothing too serious or intense, and it will be mainly focused on anime, manga, comics, because that's where my interests lie, but might include other stuff. I'm not gonna be taking submissions right now, but I will take suggestions. I'll repeat that there will be nothing too intense, this blog will not involve sa or anything like that.

I'm most fond of hurt/comfort stuff, ones where characters actually end up dying (permantly. If they get better it's okay) just make me upset in a not-good way. I especially love content involving queer women and women in general coming together in angst, taking care of each other, protecting each other, etc. Ones involving men supporting them are good too though

This blog is trans-inclusive, trans women are women, and I'm also happy to take suggestions involving nb characters--and I mean all nb characters, not as a 'oh people who look feminine are basically women anyway' bullshit thing. I just consider it an additional group that serves an audience who needs food too.

And maybe a man will sneak in once in a while as a special little deal, especially if there's a woman protecting him or somethin'.

(also, don't expect me to be available to post all the time, obviously. Life gets in the way).

Lets do this.

#female whump #lady whump #whump #woman whump #whumplr #whump blog

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conanssummerchild · 3 months ago

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ive dipped my toes into a little bit of unserious fic writing for rnm and i felt it was about time i dropped an autistic rick fic 🫡

ive had this idea circling around in my head for a while but i wasn't really sure what direction the fic would go in but ive decided to go for some good old internalised ableism (me writing angst? shocking /sarc) bcs rick never seems to see his autism as a disadvantage which is super slay BUT there is also a lot of difficult things to deal with being autistic and you know that old fucker hates admitting he needs help with anything so im gonna fucking force him to >:) this is set in like maybe season 2 or early season 3 btw just to make rick even less inclined to admit he needs any help !!

ok enough yapping, here we gooo

~~~

It was awfully quiet in the house for a Saturday afternoon. Usually by now Rick would've come barging into the living room, demanding Morty come with him and tugging him through a portal without waiting for an affirmative answer, always at least a little drunk on whatever he could get his hands on.

Today there was none of that, only fragrant smells of whatever dinner Jerry was cooking coming from the kitchen, juxtaposed with the harsh screaming match going on between him and Beth. Summer was scrolling on her phone absently next to Morty on the sofa as he pretended to watch some film that Jerry insisted was a masterpiece on non-interdimensional TV.

Overall, it was a normal night at the Smith's house from before Rick had come into their lives, but Morty wasn't relaxed like he would've been before, or even upset over having to listen to his parents' petty argument. No, he was ansty, fidgeting around enough to earn several annoyed glances from Summer.

He combed back through his memories, doubting whether he'd seen Rick today at all. He hadn't been at lunch or breakfast, in fact Morty hadn't seen him at all since their brief adventure yesterday, during which Rick had been in an increasingly foul mood. Had no one else even noticed his disappearance?

"I'm gonna check on Rick." He blurted out, stumbling off the sofa.

Summer didn't even spare him a glance.

He tried not to run down the hallway, nervous jitters going through his whole body. What if he had left again? No, probably not, Morty had seen his ship in the driveway. Shit– Rick had thousands of enemies, what if he was lying dead in his room right now?

Morty knocked on Rick's door so hard his knuckles stung a little, ignoring the small buzzing sound that accompanied the knocks. He heard a groan akin to one of a dying man and some shuffling from inside the room.

"Rick?" Morty called out to no answer, anxiety only rising.

He shifted nervously from foot to foot. If he just barged into Rick's room and he was fine Rick would be super pissed, but if he didn't and Rick was dying Morty would never forgive himself.

He shoved the door open. It didn't have a lock anymore. Morty held his breath as his eyes darted around the room, he feared it would look like a crime scene, but it looked... normal. He hadn't been in Rick's room that many times but, despite the darkness and slight mess, nothing seemed particularly out of place.

Well, that was, of course, apart from the translucent green force field type thing in front of the door.

He frowned, calling Rick's name again, but he was lying in his cot, facing the wall, unresponsive. Not even seeming like he'd heard Morty, the rise and fall of his tense shoulders the only thing showing he was still alive.

Morty chanced a careful touch to the force field, preparing for some kind of electric shock, but none came, only a quiet hum was emmited as Morty's fingers passed through. Rick moved again slightly, but other than that showed no visible reaction.

The field gave way easily and Morty passed though completely, standing meekly at the doorway of Rick's room. He was surprised to find that it was silent, like completely. No sound passed through the green barrier, not the sounds of sizzling pans, or the movie playing faintly in the background. Nothing.

"Rick? A-are you okay?" It wasn't said particularly loudly, but it felt that way in the complete silence.

No answer. He took a step closer, repeating himself louder, in case Rick just hadn't heard. "Rick? W-what's– is everything good?"

He expected anything, from Rick yelling at him to the person in the bed just being an alien wearing Rick's face, not even Rick himself.

He didn't expect Rick to cover his ears and curl into himself further.

"Uh-" Morty hesitated. His head hurt? Was he, like, hungover? Dying?

He only paused for a second more before turning and running out of the room, if something really was greviously wrong with Rick he would much rather be safe than sorry.

"Mom!" He called, running into the kitchen, interrupting the argument going on abruptly.

Beth downed a large sip of her wine glass, emptying it and setting it down on the counter with a sharp clink.

"Morty, honey, the adults are talking right now." She said, rubbing her temples tiredly.

"Mom, something's w-w-wrong with Rick."

"What?" That got Beth's attention, straightening from where she was topping off her wine once more. "What's wrong with Rick?"

"I don't know." Morty replied, agitated. "He's in his room just– just lying there, he's not answering me."

Beth was already heading in the direction of his room—not without grabbing her wine. "Come on, sweetie." She said to Morty.

"Wha- Beth, come on! We were having a conversation here!" Jerry exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I have more important things to deal with right now, Jerry." She said coldly.

Jerry's complaints were drowned out by Morty's rushing thoughts as he led Beth down the hall.

She peeked into the dark room without passing the noise-cancelling field, expression changing when she saw Rick curled into a ball, hands still clamped over his ears. While her frown stayed, a sort of realisation flashed in her eyes.

"Um, I think your grandpa just needs a little bit of alone time right now, okay? Let's give him some space." She said, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

"What? Why?"

"He just... Well, honestly, I don't know. I just vaguely remember he would get like this sometimes when I was a kid, when he was stressed. Mom always told me to just leave him alone for a while. I thought he'd probably grown out of it, like it was a midlife crisis thing or whatever. Guess not." She gave a small shrug.

That didn't really answer any of Morty's questions and raised several more, but Beth didn't seem to have the answers.

"Okay."

"Okay." Beth echoed, taking a swig of wine, her demeanour changing back to a bored one. "Well, I gotta go deal with Jerry now, go play video games, or something."

For the rest of that day, and then one more after that, Morty waited anxiously for Rick to emerge from his room. He felt like he was losing his mind, all while everyone else didn't even seem to care that Rick was gone at all.

He was picking at his pancakes uninterestedly when he finally caught a glimpse of blue hair in the hallway.

"Rick!" He exclaimed, making the old man nearly jump out of his skin.

"Jesus fucking christ, M-Morty." He muttered, grabbing some orange juice from the fridge and downing it straight from the carton.

"What happened?" Morty asked, getting up from the table and hovering by Rick. No one told him off for leaving the table. He could tell that they were all listening in on the conversation.

"What happened when?" Rick asked dismissively, playing dumb. He rummaged around in the overhead cupboard until he found an opened box of wafers. "What– who the fuck opened my wafers?"

Morty rolled his eyes. "You did, last week."

"Oh yeah." Rick shoved a wafer in his mouth.

"Rick, come on, seriously, I was worried."

"Well then maybe you should mind your own business, Morty."

Morty huffed. "What so you'd prefer I didn't care about you at all?"

"Yes. Obviously. Why does that surprise you? I've clearly stated it on multiple occasions."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I do care about you, Rick. I just want to make sure you're okay, because it seemed like you weren't" Morty said earnestly.

"Ugh, I'm fine, Morty." He scowled. "Don't be so– so weird about it."

"I'm weird?! Y-you're the weird one, Rick! Wh-what the hell is wrong with you? You just dissapear for– for two days and won't even tell me why? Can you give half a shit about anyone but yourself?"

"Jesus, I was overstimulated! O-okay? I'm autistic! Is that what you want to hear? You– you fucking dick."

Morty shook his head lightly, processing the stream of information "...What?"

"What? You can't be autistic." Jerry chimed in from the dining room.

"Okay, Jerry, and you won't be alive when I stuff your tiny dick in your mouth and freeze you, so we can put you on the mantle like some kind of fucked up decoration with your balls hanging out. Wait, actually, you will be alive. You'll feel the whole thing. Suuuper painful."

Rick snatched up Morty's virtually untouched stack of pancakes and sauntered out.

A quiet washed over the table, Morty looking over at Beth and seeing that she seemed just as surprised as him.

"What, you guys seriously didn't know?" Summer's bored voice broke through the silence.

"Y- you did?" Morty asked incredulously.

"Uh, duhh, Morty. It's like super obvious?" Summer drawled, not even looking up from whoever she was texting on her phone.

"How is it obvious?!"

"Becuase, Morty, I'm not uneducated like all of you guys."

"What? Wh-whatever, I'm just– I'm gonna go talk to him."

Summer didn't grace him with a response.

Morty peered into Rick's room but he wasn't there, so he wandered towards the garage. As he approached, he could already hear the sounds of Rick tinkering with something or other.

"H-hey, Rick." He said carefully, but Rick didn't seem particularly upset, offering Morty a small grunt in greeting.

"S-sorry I said there was something wrong with you." Morty added.

Rick looked up this time, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Okay?"

He went back to his project for a bit, but when Morty still didn't leave after several minutes he sighed, setting his wrench down harshly next to Morty's now half-eaten pancakes. "Yes, Morty?" He asked, irritated.

"I-I just... You could've told me, you know? That you're autistic. I'm not– you don't have to be, like... ashamed."

"Screw you, I'm not ashamed." Rick snapped. "L-look at me Morty, do you know how smart I am? You think any fucking neurotypical could ever reach my level of genius? Fuck no!"

He crossed his arms like a petulant child, pouting at the floor.

"Oh– Sorry." Morty stuttered. "I just thought..."

"What? That just because I'm autistic I have to be ashamed? Pretty ableist stuff there, Morty." Rick said sharply.

"No! Jeez, That's not– not what I meant, Rick. Jeez... I was gonna ask why you never t-talk about it, then?"

"Becuase it's none of y-your damn business, that's why."

"But– I mean, sure, but not even my mom knew. Did... did your wife? Did she know?"

Rick's shoulders tensed and he looked away, his loose grip on the table becoming harsher.

"R-rick?"

"She... knew." He said tightly.

"Did anyone else?" Morty made his tone a little gentler, seeing Rick wasn't exactly thrilled to talk about it.

"...Birdperson. And Squanchy."

"That's– no one else?"

Rick frowned. "My parents knew. But they didn't like it... Diane– my wife she was the first person I chose to tell myself."

"I'm sorry." Morty said quietly. "About your parents and... Diane."

Rick sat silently, staring at the work bench in front of him without saying a word.

"Is that... why you guys divorced, or?"

"No, Morty, jesus." Rick huffed. "She was actually the only one that didn't treat me like less than because of it. I mean, until BP and Squanch."

"So why–?"

"I don't want to talk about my failed marriage, M-morty." Rick sighed.

"...Sorry."

Rick shrugged.

Silence stretched on as Rick went back to his project again, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either.

"It's embarrasing. Sometimes." Rick said haltingly. "When I get overstimulated. Becuase I know that doesn't happen to normal people and I don't like admitting I need help with things that other people don't. It's a sign of weakness."

"That's not–!"

"Shut the fuck up, Morty. This isn't a discussion, you got what you wanted out of me, so now you can fuck off."

"But, Rick you–"

"Morty, just fuck the fuck off."

Morty hesitated for a second, before lunging towards Rick and trapping him in a tight hug. Rick tensed up.

"Morty, you little shit, get off me!" Rick wriggled, trying to get out of Morty's embrace.

"I love you, grandpa. Thank you for opening up to me, I know it's hard for you." Morty whispered, which only made Rick thrash around harder. "I don't think you're weak, by the way. Or that there's anything wrong with you."

Morty finally pulled away from the hug and Rick crossed his arms again, his face now a little flushed in embarrasment.

"Don't do that again, you asshole." He grumbled. "I don't like it when you hug me."

"Sorry." Morty said, mostly meaning it. "Hugs always make me feel a lot better."

"Well I'm not you, Morty, and they m-m-make me uncomfortable."

"Sorry." He repeated. "But I-I still mean everything I said."

Rick pouted, turning away. Morty knew Rick was stubborn, and that he wasn't going to erase years of self-hatred and internalised ableism in a few minutes, but he hoped that one day Rick let him in enough to at least try.

"Okay, bye grandpa. Love you."

"Bye, asshole." Rick muttered back.

Love you too he thought, but didn't say.

+ extra

Rick had been in a shitty mood all day, and Morty could tell something was brewing under the surface, but he couldn't tell what until they were already on their way back home from grabbing some crystals from some drug planet Rick stole from all the time.

Usually Rick would be in high spirits after another succesful crystal-stealing mission, but today he just glared through the windshield, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Morty could tell that, despite his intense stare, he wasn't really paying too much attention, so it wasn't a huge shock when an large asteroid chunk flew into their field of vision and Rick didn't even try to swerve.

They crashed into the asteroid hard and an alarm started blaring, red rays flashing in the interior of the spaceship. Rick's hands flew over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Morty had seen this alarm go off several times, due to Rick's often reckless driving, and it usually didn't bother Rick very much at all, not warranting more than a curse and flipping the alarm off annoyedly.

Rick bit down on his knee hard as Morty hurried to shut down the alarm, Rick's hands moving into his hair and tugging when it was finally switched off.

Rick had a tendancy to hurt himself when he was overstimulated and it made Morty endlessly anxious. He searched desperately in the backseat for the noise cancelling headphones he'd given Rick and "forced him to wear" as Rick would say, but Morty could tell he appreciated it. Especially when he snatched them out of Morty's hands before he'd barely even handed them to him, shoving them onto his head agressively and clicking the button he'd added himself for improved noise cancellation, claiming the headphones were trash and that he'd had to modify them to make them at all a useful tool.

He slumped back in his chair with a sigh, his eyes were still shut but Morty could see the tears that had collected on his eyelashes.

"Do you want me to drive us back?" Morty asked, barely finishing the sentance before Rick was hitting the button that switched their chairs around so Morty would be in front of the wheel. Morty let out a small exclamation of surprise, but quickly took the wheel, putting the ship back on track.

Rick didn't say anything else for the short journey home, jumping out of the ship before it was even parked properly. Morty hurried to keep up with him as he unlocked the door. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the entryway and Morty almost crashed into him, managing to stop himself just in time.

"Thank you." Rick said gruffly, not giving Morty time to respond and just rushing off to his room.

Morty still smiled, though. He knew that was about as close as it got to his grandpa expressing affection.

"Love you too, Rick."

---

THE END IM CHEESEY OK I KNOW SORRY BYE

#idk how to write beth but i felt she was necessary to be included #beth my girlll #also i just hc that while morty is like always trying to be politically correct and all ethical hes sorta clueless abt things in practice #while summer is like Woke 😭 and she knows like a bunch of shit abt like queer topics and autism for whatever reason #so thats why shes the only family member that noticed that rick is autistic #i just feel like thats the vibe idk #finally got to employ that hc somewhere outside of my random daydreaming #sorry for the overuse of ellipses at the end btw 😭#alex says shit #rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #autistic rick sanchez #beth smith #jerry smith #summer smith #rick and morty fanfiction #rnm fic #rick sanchez fanfic

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vilevenom · 3 months ago

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I took a break from writing for a bit, and now I'm dipping my toes into the Sonic fandom. This is essentially just a quick little thing I wrote to try and get a bit of a handle on how I'd like to characterize them. P.S - I wrote it mostly on a whim, and a little bit while recovering from a migraine, soooo...yeah. No Ray of Sunlight's Ever Lost Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog (no specific media) Pairing: Gen, Sonic/Shadow Summary: The idea of Shadow getting injured wasn't new to Sonic. But the possibility of him dying was certainly new A.K.A: These boys are emotionally constipated Warning: Descriptions of blood/injury

Blue had always been a color that brought Shadow great comfort. His memories were clouded and distorted on the best of days, but he could vividly recall the light blue dress that Maria wore as frequently as she could get away with. He remembered how soft the fabric had been as he clutched at it while Maria held him tight after an especially harrowing battery of tests, and how warm he'd felt in her embrace as she scooped him into her lap to read from her favorite book on sleepless nights.

Later, when that sweet cornflower blue became tainted with red, a different shade would emerge into his life. A stark, vivid cobalt that would enrage and taunt him at first, only to later bloom into an odd sort of warmth in his chest. It was a constant that Shadow could count on, no matter how dire the situation seemed to be. That bright blue would appear and set everything to rights with a razer sharp grin and a handful of quippy remarks.

He never truly realized just how much he'd come to value it until it was, perhaps, a bit too late.

As long as Sonic had known Shadow they had fought against and with one another. Even if the later was often quite begrudging on the hybrids part. It was something Sonic never meant to take for granted, really, but when push came to shove, he knew Shadow would be at his side, if the situation called for it. He knew as dour and irritable as Shadow could be, there was a heart of gold buried somewhere in his chest. After all, the chaos loved him, and he'd seen how he acted around Cream.

So, when Robotnik had attacked, and Sonic was on the ropes, he'd only grinned as a familiar steak of black and red flashed across the battlefield towards him.

"Took you long enough to get here, slow poke," Sonic teased as Shadow came to a stop next to him, his quills already bristled and a scowl on his face.

"Some of us have red tape to cut before they can take action, faker," Shadow snarked back, folding his arms over his chest as Sonic snorted a laugh at him.

"That's your own fault for working for G.U.N," Sonic said with a shrug.

"I don't have time to have such a childish argument with you again," Shadow grunted, taking off without a backward glance. He took down a badnik with, perhaps, a bit more force than strictly necessary as he went, which caused Sonic to laugh.

"Ah, Shadow, So easy to rile up," Sonic muttered to himself, before following in his self proclaimed rivals wake.

The battle went on as such for longer than Sonic would have liked, but with Shadow and his friends helping to beat back Eggman's forces, it was obvious that the tide of battle was quickly shifting and coming to an end. Unfortunately, that was usually when Robotnik lashed out in one last, desperate attempt to flip the fight back in his favor. Sonic knew this, it was how all their battles tended to go. He should have been paying better attention. He should have been looking in the other direction. He should have heard Tails shout. There were so many things, looking back, that Sonic truly wished he'd done to change the way the last moments of their skirmish had played out.

He'd been grinning at Amy as she smashed her hammer into a badnik, taking a brief moment to catch his breath, figuring his friends could handle themselves and the last few bots scattered around. His ear had twitched in Tails' direction as he caught his brother yelling something, but he didn't turn to see what it was as his attention was caught by the sudden look of horror on Amy's face. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, only to grunt as something slammed into his side, sending him flying from his perch atop a downed badnik and into the dirt. Finally, he turned his head to shout at whoever had pushed him, only to be met with a sight that would be burned into his mind eye, seeing it in vivid detail every time he closed his eyes for quite some time.

Shadow stood where Sonic once was, eyes wide as he stared down at the blue hedgehog. A choking little wheeze escaped his lips as time seemed to freeze as Sonic's mind caught up to what he was seeing. The metallic glint of silver was protruding from Shadow's chest where it ought not be, and thick rivulets of blood were oozing from the spot where the blade met Shadows fur. A stunned look of surprise was on Shadow's face, as if he couldn't quite fathom what had just happened.

As quickly as it occurred the moment was suddenly over, as Shadow was jerked backwards through the air, the blade sticking out of his chest attached to a chain that was being retracted by the robot wielding it. A scream that would haunt Sonic in his sleep ripped through the air as Shadow collided with the robot holding the blade, the impact inevitably driving it deeper through his chest.

By the time Sonic had shaken himself from his stupor and scrambled back up onto his feet, Robotnik had fled, Knuckles had crushed the robot that had skewered Shadow, and Rouge was gently lowering the hybrid to the ground with the blade very much still protruding from his chest.

Sonic rushed to Shadow and Rouge once he'd spotted them, Tails and Amy quick to follow, as both had witnessed what had happened. He skidded to his knees next to his fallen friend, Shadow hiccupping little breaths of air, foamy bubbles of blood trickling from his lips with each labored half-breath he managed.

"Take the blade out," Sonic said in a panic, reaching for the tip of the blade, only to flinch back as Rouge slapped his hand away.

"You want to watch him bleed out right here!?" she snapped, holding Shadow protectively close while being mindful of the blade. "It's got to stay put until we can get him to a doctor."

"Shouldn't his restorative powers keep that from happening?" Tails asked, fidgeting next to Sonic. "We've seen him heal from similar wounds."

"None that were straight through like this," Rouge grumbled, her ears perking up as she noticed Omega finally making his way across the battlefield towards them. "This is bigger and deeper than anything I've seen him deal with, and I am not gonna risk losing him just so Blue doesn't have a melt down."

When Omega halted next to the little group, Rouge had Knuckles help to settle the injured hybrid in the robots arms so he could be carried back to, assumedly, G.U.N headquarters. "We'll get you all fixed up, sugar, don't you fret," Rouge quietly assured Shadow, who looked dazed as he continued to struggle with getting air into his lungs and they began their trek back towards the city.

Meanwhile, Rouge's words to Sonic rattled around in his head. What did she mean by 'lose him'? Shadow would be fine. He was "ageless", after all. Didn't that mean he was practically immortal?

"I mean…Ageless just means he won't age. I don't think that means he can't die," Tails murmured next to him, Sonic jerked in surprise at his brothers voice. He hadn't meant to say any of that out loud. "He has an amazing capacity for healing, but Rouge had a point. If a wound is bad enough, and he doesn't have medical attention fast enough…well…" Tails trailed off, looking uncomfortable even as he spoke.

"I don't think that was as comforting as you thought it was, Tails," Knuckles snorted, folding his arms over his chest as the fox kit turned to look down at his brother with a wince.

"That's not to say he won't heal! They'll probably get him back to G.U.N in plenty of time, and with some surgery, I'm sure he'll be just fine!" Tails was quick to try and reassure, waving his hands through the air.

Sonic stared after Team Dark, shakily rising to his feet after a beat. "I'm going with them."

"Sonic," Amy sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder, "You know G.U.N doesn't like it when you show up at their headquarters unannounced. Rouge and Omega have Shadow. He'll be okay."

Sonic shrugged off Amy's hand, stepping away from her with a short shake of his head. "He's hurt because I wasn't paying enough attention. I need to make sure he's okay."

Before any of his friends could get another word in edge wise, Sonic took off after Team Dark, skidding to a stop and then trotting along next to Omega. Rouge cast him the briefest of glances, but otherwise didn't say anything as they walked with purpose towards a van that Sonic presumed would take them back to G.U.N. He glanced up at Omega, though the robot gave him no mind, before carefully reaching out to gently take Shadow's hand. The hybrid blinked sluggishly at the contact, tilting his head slightly so he could see the blue hedgehog keeping pace with them.

"Hey," Sonic said, forcing a lopsided smile on his lips, and forcing himself not to notice how the white fluff on Shadow's chest was now a vivid red that almost matched his quills, "Thanks for the save. I'm gonna make sure those goons heal you up, okay?"

A quiet little hitch of breath left Shadow, before he managed to make a low humming sound. Sonic's smile became a little less forced as Shadows fingers squeezed around his own.

Irritation and anxiety flowed freely through Sonic as he bounced his leg incessantly where he sat outside the room they'd rushed Shadow into. Predictably, they'd tried to keep Sonic from following Team Dark into G.U.N headquarters, but a quick, waspish remark from Rouge and an easy dodge from Sonic kept the blue blur at Shadow's side. It wasn't until a doctor forced Sonic out of the room with comments about sanitation and distractions that Sonic acquiesced to waiting outside.

Eventually, Rouge had Omega steal a couple of chairs from somewhere and the two sat in silence outside the room, Rouge with a book she'd produced from Chaos only knew where, and Sonic anxiously winding himself up.

The thought had never even occurred to him before that Shadow could get hurt enough to die. He'd seen the hybrid get stabbed six ways to Sunday, get beaten unconscious, hell, even falling to earth from orbit hadn't killed him! But now, the very real possibility of losing Shadow was gripping his heart in a way he never thought it would. The very idea that he could be facing a future without dragging the hybrid out of his apartment to race, or watching him zip into battle with a snarky comment shot in his direction was surprisingly paralyzing.

Finally, after what Sonic presumed was hours, as no clocks were to be seen in the hallway they sat in, a doctor exited the room. Sonic shot up from his chair as the door opened, his heart seizing in his chest at the sheer amount of blood on the doctors smock.

"He's stable," the doctor stated bluntly after staring Sonic down for a solid minute, before sauntering off down the hall like they hadn't nearly given the blue hedgehog a heart attack.

He didn't even given Rouge a glance as he rushed through the open door, halting at Shadow's bed side, his hands fluttering uselessly through the air over the hybrid's prone form. He had thought, for a moment, that Shadow was asleep, but was shortly met with a quite groan and red eyes peering up at him in mild irritation at his anxious movements. He did his best to ignore the bandages wrapped around Shadows chest and the seeping red stain slowly tinting them.

"Shadow!" Sonic breathed, "You're awake?"

"Mmm," the hybrid grunted, offering Rouge a small nod as she and Omega made their way into the room, "Can't use anesthesia on me. Metabolism is too fast."

Rouge offered Shadow a glass of water, which the hybrid took with a grateful little hum. As he drank he quirked a curious eyebrow at Sonic, who was simply staring at him with a dumbfounded little expression on his face.

"So you were awake for all that?"

Shadow simply nodded, handing the glass back to Rouge once he was finished.

"How did you not make any noise when they pulled the blade out?" Sonic blurted rather tactlessly, earning a glare from Rouge and a restrained snort of laughter from Shadow.

"I did," he said with a shrug, Rouge sighing next to him with a shake of her head, "All of the rooms in here are sound proof, though."

"Don't give me that look, Blue. You would've blown the door off its hinges if you'd heard him scream," Rouge said rolling her eyes at Sonic's affronted look. "Anyway, sugar, I have a feeling Blue wants to talk with you in private, so I'm gonna go do our paperwork. I'm glad you're okay." She leaned over and pressed a short kiss to Shadow's forehead, earning a disgruntled groan from Shadow.

"You? Doing paperwork? I must have died. There's no way you'd voluntarily do it otherwise," Shadow sniped, earning a light laugh from Rouge.

"I never said it was a free service," Rouge chuckled, blowing Shadow a kiss as she and Omega left the room.

Silence reigned for a beat after Rouge shut the door behind them, before Sonic let out a low whistle.

"So," he started, rocking back and forth on his heels, "You almost died saving me. What's that all about?"

Shadow slowly arched an eyebrow at Sonic, frown prominent on his muzzle. "..Tactful."

"I…Sorry, yeah. That was't-" Sonic cut himself off with a groan, dragging his hands down over his face. "Thank you. For saving me. I…You saved my life."

Shadow simply hummed, offering Sonic a slow nod. "Don't get used to it."

"I don't plan on making it a habit to put myself into that sort of situation."

"Liar."

"…Okay, you got me there," Sonic snorted, dragging a hand absently through his quills. "But…no, look, I…You scared me," he admitted quietly, "It honestly didn't even occur to me until today that you could get so severely hurt. What made you do it?"

Shadow sat silently for a moment, observing Sonic, before he finally shrugged, wincing slightly at the movement. "I moved before my mind could catch up with what I was doing."

"Ah," Sonic nodded, a sardonic little smile on his face, "Hero instincts finally kicked in, huh?"

Shadow frowned, grunting quietly as he shoved himself into somewhat of a sitting position, Sonics hands instinctively fluttering around him once again, obviously unsure as to what he could or should do. "Not hero instinct," Shadow sighed once he was settled back into his pillows, "I didn't want to see you get hurt."

"…You roundhouse kick me almost every time you see me."

"You know exactly what I mean. Don't be difficult."

Sonic let out an almost hysterical little giggle, moving to sit on the edge of the bed with a shake of his head. "I really don't think I do."

Shadow heaved a deep, but obviously difficult sigh, shutting his eyes as he tipped his head back into his pillows. He was silent for a moment, before opening his eyes and directing an intent stare at Sonic. "I've lost people who were important to me. It was an experience I am not eager to repeat."

"…I'm important to you?"

Shadow grunted, rolling his eyes at the slow grin spreading on Sonic's face. "Yes."

"Awww, Shadow!" Sonic cooed, placing his hands over his chest while fluttering his eye lashes at the other.

"Mmm, thank you for trivializing this," Shadow sighed, folding his arms over his chest with a barely perceptible wince.

"Wh-no! That's not what I-guh," Sonic grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration at himself, "I'm not trying to trivialize it." He fidgeted for a moment, his ears pinning back at the unimpressed stare down he was getting from the hybrid. "…You're important to me, too, Shadow," he finally said after a beat, letting his hands drop into his lap. "For a bit, there, I thought…I thought you were going to die. I thought one stupid mistake on my part was going to mean that I never got to see you again, and I…That's not something I want to think about again."

"Then stop doing stupid things when dealing with Robotnik," Shadow snarked, earning a light laugh from Sonic.

"No promises, but I'll do my best," Sonic hummed, offering his hand to Shadow, who looked momentarily startled by the action. Slowly he unfolded his arms and placed his hand into Sonic's, curling his fingers loosely around the other's palm.

"I'll hold you to that."

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #shadow the hedgehog #sonadow #shadonic #things that i wrote

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pastafossa · 9 months ago

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Right ok many things have happened in a short amount of time which is where I've been, and most of it is GOOD for once, which is wild when I'm still feeling out of it after being beaten by the Emotional Trauma bat for a few months and I think my body + brain has just kinda short-circuited.

I've been offered a booth spot for my wood carvings at a local witchy market event in April, and I've said yes! If this goes well, it will seriously help my bills and really start getting my name out beyond my normal sellers online. This is huge. I've never done an event before, and my anxiety's through the roof, but mom's agreed to help man the table so that makes me feel a bit better. This is an artsy city and there's tons of tourist traffic in Summer, so establishing myself to the point where I can get into their view would be amazing (tourism is where my teacher sells 75% of his carvings and makes a living).

Additionally, I am now in talks to do a brief, 10-20 minute class on wood this summer at another witchy event run by the same group. If there's enough interest, I might be able to run regular classes (which means more $ as a bonus). This has sort of always been one of my end goals with carving - it's a dying artform, and I LOVE teaching and showing people how easy it is to get into! This is also what my own carving teacher always told me he thought I'd wind up doing eventually: essentially taking his place and continuing to teach others like he taught me.

A couple folks in the community who are published have said they think if I wrote a guide on the various carving woods, their associations, and how to work with them, it would sell, and they're happy to help me. It wouldn't have to be long and it wouldn't be too hard, since most of it is stuff I already have written down for my own notes, but I'm also wondering if this isn't a good way to dip my toe into publishing and see how it goes, especially since I want to publish an AU of TRT one day when it's done. It's not the door into the publishing world I expected to open, but damned if I'm not inclined to take advantage.

I have no idea what to expect going forward. I'm still having some issues after what I went through, but damn, even I can feel this this is a potential path ahead that might do a lot for me.

Anyway, I've got some stuff I've started writing, the promised little one shots, that I'll do before slowly transitioning back into TRT. Ironically, I've used the time to go back over my outline and streamline a few arcs, and had some epiphanies that I think will improve the plot even further. So that was nice, and I think when TRT starts back up, you're going to love what's coming!

Lastly, to the person who dropped that cash into my ko-fi: thank you. You have no idea how much that's helped.

#pasta life update #i am like #i am fuzzy right now because holy shit #i feel like it's taking off VERY quickly and i have no idea how to handle it but #it feels good at least

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wolvieshairypussy · 3 months ago

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okay I'm dipping my toes in x men comics for the first time and read THIS series (Astonishing X-men: Xenogenesis) because I saw emo wolverine on the cover and my GOD was it so awful 😭

when it comes to comics. the first thing that attracts my interest is the cover art. naturally so because comics are visual arts and story telling. and my brain is so confused because on one hand, there's moments where I see the charm in some drawings, and other times where I HATE IT.

The proportions are CRAZZYY, especially with Emma. She's not my favourite, but any of the characters hardly are in this, I already like all of them in the movies, but in the comics it's another story obviously.

The theme of the story is quite sensitive and can very well fall into the territory of racism. there are points made by other characters about the state of African nations and how the world doesn't care about them. You know, colonialism and shit. We see this happen everyday in the news, people are dying in the Congo and nobody gives a shit because they're black people.

Logan is a little annoying, he should KNOW better than grumble "African leaders..." GIRL WDYYMM!!! The man is saying how HE needs to eleminate threats so his people don't get harmed, not matter how ugly it is and that he's not relying on the x-men 100% because they could and WILL leave if something bad happens in the US. And who will help his people then??? It's pretty bleak.

Also, the artist must've smoked something while making the covers because why in the world is Emma drawn so sexually in a story where the whole thing is to save babies???

And don't get me started on these panels, they're so awful.

Listen, I love seeing women and men in cute cunty little outfits. but TIME AND PLACE!!! TIME AND PLACE!!!! Emma was dressed like she was going to the CLUB and not in a MISSION where they had to save villagers from EXPLODING BABIES?!?!?!?

And you're telling ME, Scott Summers allowed her to tag along in her little outfit because they fucked and she has special privileges??? I am literally so embarrassed right now for him. In my head, with the information I got from the movies, that man has standards when in comes to the x-men and he'll make EVERYONE dress in the appropriate uniform. they're going on a HUMANITARIAN MISSION OMD!!!!!

It's so wrong and insensitive on so many levels.

#x men #astonishing x men #astonishing x men Xenogenesis #x men comics #wolverine #james howlett #logan howlett #emma frost #jubilee #beast #hank mccoy #xmen cyclops #scott summers #storm #x men storm #x men cyclops #x men wolverine #x men jubilee

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super-secret-clown-corner · 1 year ago

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hey did anyone ask for a heavily biased list of s3 worldbuilding headcannons and how i think some of the lifesteal guys interact with each other? no? too bad i was force fed half of this by my brain while trying to go to sleep

cut for length bc it's long sorry not sorry

clownpierce

of course i have to start with clown he is like a bug to me and i'm putting him under a microscope

he is a BEAST. a CREATURE even.

aka he's from the void but no one except ash knows that

the deranged discord thoughts at 2 am said clown is from the void bc everywhere he goes he brings death. he kills. it’s what he does. he kills and he’s fuckin great at it. do you hear me. do you understand.

covered from head to toe in clothing to hide the fact he's from the void. there's a constant slight chill that surrounds him and it's only really noticeable when someone's almost touching him

he never lets anyone get that close anyway besides the occasional handshake or smth bc yeah anyone would be uncomfortable if someone was standing inches away from you. he plays off the cold hands with a poor blood circulation excuse if anyone asks

if he did show skin, his silhouette would be like a black hole where it's completely pitch black, and depending on the angle, he either appears 2d or 3d (very disorienting and unnerving)

this guy does not have a single stable relationship to fall back on. he allies with people for power and not for comradery, and it is So Hard for him to tear down the dozens of walls he keeps up around him because he often finds that when he does, he gets betrayed and left in the dust (mob anon from lifesteal headcannons i am thinking so hard about your submission)

plus it's hard for him to know whether or not this person is allying with him because he's The Deadliest Assassin Blah Blah Blah and they want that safety net/protection or if they genuinely want to ally with him

it takes him a long time to fully trust branzy, and even then he doesn't open up to him about his personal stuff

the mask stays On. Constantly. doesn't matter how much he trusts someone he will never willingly show his face

he and red have a friendly rivalry with the heart economy side of lifesteal, they're both competing for the title of strongest/holder of most hearts or smth like that

ashswag

dude used to be a normal guy way way way way before lifesteal events n stuff but then he fell into the void and came back Wrong

basically instead of dying instantly, he survived for a little bit longer than usual, broke through reality, and saw that everything is just a simulation and everyone is just code, including himself

that fucked him up bad physically and mentally, and his left side is all glitched and void-like now (chronic pain coded)

dude is technically immortal but he never really tested losing all of his hearts yet

he knows that clown is from the void because he knows what the void feels like and is hypertuned to it, and to him, clown RADIATES it like a space heater. he can't stand too close to him and has to have at least one person's width between them. he hasn't confronted clown about it though because he knows when to keep his mouth shut

being close to the void for him hurts in an ocular migraine type way, but he typically pushes through it when he's down at bedrock level or in the end

he doesn't make stable relationships with people because he doesn't really see the point in them

nihilism 100

whatever side he aligns with is usually the one causing the most chaos

branzycraft

evil little meow meow

let him be angry. let him have rage.

he is Just Some Guy (aka normal ass human) but he is so smart

not a fighter but he is a builder and a damn good one at that

need a trap that is sure to kill? branzy

very good at getting the fuck out of situations that would've killed him if he didn't immediately dip when he did

based on vibes alone, early s3 branzy would so be friends with subz and vitalasy (which i think actually happens so i win)

i need branzy to be envious of clown's fighting skill and heart count before he starts warming up to him. please where is the slow burn.

falls out with subz and vitalasy when he starts allying with clown and co, and especially when he tricks vitalasy into the funhouse

during the cleansing when the dirties and team chaos are relatively working together, vitalasy tries to reconcile and pull branzy away from team chaos, but branzy's lost in the power sauce

he and rek are Just Some Guy buddies who exchange near-death experience stories (i need more branzy and rek friendship please please please please please p)

i am ace beaming your clownzy mwahahaha

leowook

strap in boys because have you considered the tension between clown and leo after mob falls (once again mob anon from lifesteal headcannons i am thinking so hard about your submission)

they were tight. they were bros. they were homies. leo was the only person clown felt like he could confide in during mob. and then leo turned coats. i'm SO NORMAL.

clown has NOT forgiven him

super duper a cyborg. he's a tnt minecart pvper he had to have blown off his limbs at some point /silly

but yeah his limbs are mechanical, along with one of his eyes. can't really see it though bc he constantly wears a mask, long sleeves, pants, and gloves. i'll probably default to his left eye if i ever draw leowook face

he and red feel like they would be friends based on vibes

still works/allies with zam after mob in an attempt to go back to what he lost

slaps roof of leowook this bad boy can fit so much mob angst inside of it

princezam

certified Thing. don't know what, he just is

has loony toons vibes. to me.

so annoyingly positive in the eyes of the others, they all want to punch him at least once

hero complex 100

dude just manages to rizz his way into teams

zam is smart. he knows what he's doing.

ok actual serious hcs bro has the most worldbuilding in his explanation tbh

in my head, lifesteal is this independent port city-state that was originally run by everyone and acted as a free, international trade center. zam is the crown prince of the neighboring territory surrounding the city, and when mob started gaining serious power, he charmed his way into working with them.

the deal he struck with mob is that if he wanted to join, lifesteal wouldn't be a part of zam's kingdom and all of his actions in mob were separate from his actions as the prince. it worked out relatively well for both of them: mob got a powerful ally with good political/funding power, and zam got to play hero and get involved with lifesteal politics

when mob fell, he initially respected their previous agreement where he wouldn't play prince in lifesteal, but when heart economics grew too unbalanced in his eyes, he decided to annex the city and then start the cleansing

nobody enjoyed zam annexing the territory, and especially not when his first order of business was to have everyone over ten hearts withdraw and bank them to evenly distribute to people with less than ten hearts

gonna pause here for now bc i feel like if i tried listing another character, it wouldn't have the same heart behind it as these guys do. if anyone does wanna see another silly that i didn't get to here, feel free to shoot me an ask or smth idm :]

fuck cringe i am having a blast i love worldbuilding

#'cut for length bc it's long' duh ofc it is #i love bullying myself #you can tell who i'm biased for gfjdhgkj #mcyt #mcytblr #lifesteal smp #clownpierce #ashswag #ashswagg #branzy #branzycraft #leowook #prince zam #princezam #the jester's writing #the jester speaks

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tfdtreasurer · 4 months ago

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This is a part 2 to this ask.

Erigam

Now we're getting to the real rarepairs. Erigam. My initial judgement is: mmmmmmmm it's pretty alright. I don't think it's anything to super write home about, but I can see how they make a funny pair. I admit to a lack of ideas for their dynamic mainly stemming from the fact that I don't feel I know too much about Gamzee as a character. Normally if I'm not that much a fan of a character to go to such depths of analysis I'll do with Eridan, I'll delegate to other people's interpretation. The problem with that for Gamzee is that people are super divided on him. Even those that are more charitable to him, which I tend to lean to because my overall interpretation of Homestuck, tend to be divided in their interpretation. So, I guess I'm on my own on this one.

The Dynamic

To start: Gamzee's character, in my view. My general sense about him is that as a result of parental neglect, he was taken in by the subjugglator ideology, which triply represents a gang environment, esoteric spiritual cult, and at the same time, mainstream evangelical religion. So, you kinda know he's gonna come out of it severely fucked up. I'm not like psychiatrist or anything but I also wouldn't rule out some weird psychopathology going on as a result of it. I tend to lean that way though because how faygo and sopor allude to alcohol and drugs respectively, and thus it seems to imply that through his substance abuse, Gamzee was self medicating for the more dangerous parts of his personality. But two very fucked up things canceling each other out isn't a very stable situation. As I will always say, Doc Scratch is the manipulative, abusive guardian of the trolls, and like how Vriska was manipulated directly by using her ego, and Eridan manipulated by her trust in history, Gamzee's constant associations with puppets are not just for kicks, and he's been very deliberately wound up like a spring, to be unleashed when the moment is right. If you trust my analysis about Eridan's villainous turn, that it's like film (jack) noir, Gamzee's is like a jack (noir) in the box. So, we can start to see how they make a decent duo symbolically and as villains.

There's also the question of what to consider when analyzing: red or black? Well, god gave us quadrant vacillation for a reason, so why not dip our toes in both.

As a dynamic, I can certainly see where caliginous feelings arise. This is reaching back into some of my primeval analysis of Eridan, shit back from when I was a kid and was first reading homestuck, back to my first reasons liking her: Like how a lot of the trolls are meant to represent kinds of online archetypes, I saw Eridan as representing the archetype of militant atheist. Constantly insistent on the fakeness of magic, including Gamzee's belief in miracles, makes it pretty clear how they would come to disagree and potentially despise each other. True believer v non believer. Faithful v faithless. To put into more Homestuck terms: Gamzee is pure prospit, optimistic, credulous, oriented in favor of creation; Eridan is pure derse, cynical, skeptical, oriented against creation. Creationist, anti creationist. Like, you can get it, there's only so many ways to put it I guess, but all of it works as an excuse for the kismesissitude angle.

Villain Duo

Normally, I like analyzing Homestuck with the idea that it did not originally intend to end so cynically, with so many dead children, and many of our protagonists being under-developed as characters. I also tend to choose murderstuck as the point of divergence from canon, as it allows the big trio of Vriska, Gamzee, and Eridan to perform the moral wrongs that are vital to their characters, while also being the narrative spot to prevent everybody else dying, and setting up both the time and space for everybody to develop positively under Karkat's leadership, which is a defining part of how things could've turned out for the better. For this post though, I'm not gonna make it all sunshine and rainbows, because I think for the most fun with Erigam is less immediately about their redemption from their villainous roles in canon, and much more their blundering cartoon villainy together as a pair.

While Eridan's run as villain was a lot more short lived, but they're both notable for being the two only "true" villainous troll kids, left unredeemed and unforgiven by the narrative by the end. Eridan, at least in my biased opinion, works well as a villain. She's capable of the same menace as Jack Noir, but unlike him, is more talkative, when dialogue is Homestuck's strength. So, for this hypothetical, we're just gonna extend Eridan's lease in the narrative, and let her be another long term villain. It's a good thing to do, because one of Gamzee's weaknesses as a villain is the relative obscurity of his "why." He's a puppet doing things for the forces that use him, but at the least, it'd be nice to know his opinion on the whole thing. Having a character that is a villain alongside him, and especially one that will endlessly argue with him, gives the narrative plenty of space to flesh out his motivation and exposit important information for the audience. For how they bounce of off each other, it's good that they're both vulgar. It's good that they're able to at least promote their own supremacy over each other's castes. Imma be real though, it's bad that they're both purple. Gamzee is a headache enough to read at times. Idk, let Eridan lose her fuckin shit for real this time, go truly off the deep end, grimnoir mode, for no other reason than to make her text black.

As I discussed in their dynamic, these two are very nearly diametrically opposed in motivation, which makes their kismesissitude obvious, but why they would team up as villains together not so much. It's simple: cahoots. Like her relationship with Vriska, Eridan's reason to work with her kismesis is an alliance of convenience. You can have a lot of fun with two villains that work together but not to the same ends. It provides a lot of interesting push and pull, and for the sake of narrative, ways for heroes to poke holes in their villainous plans. For example, Imagine the scene where one's villainous monologue to whichever of the ensemble protagonists is disrupted by the other, and they erupt into an argument that serves as deus ex machina for the protagonist escaping or making their way to their objective. Imagine the comedic potential of cutting back to them at whatever moment you need. At the same time, imagine the thematic potential of a character with false god tier, and a character who doesn't even believe in the reality of god tier powers.

Til Death Does Them Part

I know what you're asking: Where does the vacillation come in? Well, in this hypothetical, besides it just possibly being interspersed during their villainy, I would say the main thrust of red romance would coincide with whatever potential for redemption that the narrative deems to give them. Because y'know, they're still children, still being manipulated by darker more powerful forces, we can sympathize with them even as they do wrong things. Even then, Gamzee is still comedy and tragedy. And like those Greek plays of old, while a comedy may end in marriage, tragedies typically don't. Oftentimes redemption requires sacrifice, and what is better to embody both the marriage ending of comedy and deadly ending of tragedy than their marriage, or symbol thereof, happening simultaneously as their final act of sacrifice that redeems them? I can certainly imagine a symbol of marriage common in Homestuck, and a character with a free finger for it, and the how the destruction of it would be pretty thorough in destroying the wearer too (I'm suggesting that Gamzee put a ring on Eridan as they fall into a volcano together, if it wasn't obvious).

Maybe you don't have to end it like that. Maybe you want to go deeper with their story and let them be redeemed in life. The switch from amusing antagonist pair to amusing side characters is perfectly fine in terms of having fun with it. Now, is it as poetic as the comic-tragic ending? Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Conclusion

Well I started this saying that I can see them as funny and then accidentally analyzed my way into a huge bummer ending. Just couldn't help myself. I'm a English major, I see a character that alludes to sock and buskin masks and immediately start thinking of their bittersweet ending. But the ship does absolutely have narrative potential, and while it maybe depends on a controversial understanding of Gamzee, I will bump it up to "cute" tier.

Remember folks, the ask box is open and free. You too can goad the moron behind the screen into typing... Shit, that's ~1500 words shipping Erigam. c'est la vie. Well you can get me to write this much about your ship of choice is the point. I also do non ship stuff. Whatever random nonsense as long as it's Eridan related.

Next up: wwixards!

#eridan #eridan ampora #she/her eridan #gamzee #gamzee makara #erigam #homestuck analysis #homestuck character analysis #shipping #ask response #sillies #angst #get yourself a girl who can do both

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f1-disaster-bi · 1 month ago

Note

I wish you would write a fic where...

I would love to read the one night stand au as a fic especially to see how long it takes max to clock that they have met before. Since he is a smart cookie i don't think it would take him long to figure it out 😂😂😂

And i would also love to read love at first sight au, paparazzi au and obvious au as fics 🤣🤣🤣

Apart from norrix i'm dying to know more about mystery au and the dando roadtrip 🥰🥰🥰

But i love all your stuff (and more pairings than norrix and dando) so whatever you write i will read it ❤️❤️❤️

Sorry for taking so long to get back to this anon!

One night stand au is in the works and you might have seen the snippet I shared. I am trying to get to it, but my brain is not liking longer fics right now so I am writing in short burst!h

Max would almost instantly sense some weirdness but he would not clock why. At least not straight away. He might sense attraction by the end of the night but no way would he pick it up at his birthday party....the next day however.....

Love at first sight and Paparazzi au are in my wips. I have drafted some starts to those, but I haven't dipped my toes into Obvious au yet 👀👀

Mystery au..,I did write some whump for it recently....I got yelled at a bit for it but it was fun! Essentially it's an au where Lando moves to a small coastal village that has a tight knit community. He gets a job in Max's bookstore, and he starts to form a bond with the local bartender, Daniel (originally Michael). However Lando is extremely closed off. He won't talk about his past or why he moved. His house is covered in security measures, and no one knows why. The reason is that Lando is a one of three survivors of a notorious serial killer that keeps evading the police and is trying to lay low so he doesn't find him again....but maybe he does...

Dando roadtrip is my baby that I want to make into a big oneshot or two or three long chaptered fic. It's based around the idea of Lando moving to Perth for his Masters. He wants a fresh start and something new, and he jumps at the chance to take a funded place in Perth. It's there he meets Daniel who introduces him to people that become his friends, and Lando falls for him quickly. However he never says anything and then, when it's possible that Lando is leaving for good now that his degree is complete, Daniel decides they should roadtrip through Australia, and Lando struggles to deal with his feelings while sharing small motel rooms with Daniel.

Hopefully I can start writing big fics again and bring some of these to you!

#norrix #obvious au #love at first sight au #one night stand au #roadtrip au #dando #daniel/lando #mystery lando au #lando/daniel #martin/lando #lando/martin

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unfriendlyamazon · 21 days ago

Text

Pink Cake (Stardew Valley)

and now for something completely different

rating: T

pairing: Haley/Abigail

warnings: WLW Fluff, Hair Dying, Pet Names

summary:

Haley peeked again. The chemical smell of the hair dye wafted up from where Abigail had mixed it, and she wrinkled her nose. “You can’t make me hideous,” she said. “Promise this isn’t a prank.” “Oh, yeah, this is the perfect prank,” Abigail said dryly. “I work my way into the Pink Princess’ good graces for smooching and sleepovers just so I can convince you to try a different hair color. Ha ha ha I am so evil.” Abigail dyes Haley's hair.

That's right I write fanfiction for other fandoms. I'm going to be dipping my toe into some Stardew Valley pairings I find amusing and I thought I'd start with black and pink girlies themselves.

Read It Here on AO3

#stardew valley #haley stardew valley #abigail stardew valley #haley x abigail #abigail x haley #i don't know ship conventions for this fandom

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secondbeatsongs · 2 years ago

Note

is ff.n finally dying? god. that was my first intro to fanfiction and oh boy the fandom i was in was a terrible/idk dead ig? community. tbf i didn't write pairings so (still have this problem) my stuff just gets filtered out bc there's no slash and people don't read it, maybe that's why i never spoke to anyone. Still, I read and wrote so much transformers angst way after the movies were out of immediate popularity and got very little interaction. years later dipped my toes into pokémon and immediately got someone yelling at me about the capitalization of species names.

On AO3 now writing & just as brutal angsty shit and it's much better there! but ya know. weird feeling thinking FF is gonna be like Gone gone.

I have no idea if it's actually going to go down, but I do not like the domain issues they've been having, so I'm backing up anything I can think to, juuuust in case :/

but also! I'm a bit upset right now, because I've been using the FanFictionDownloader to archive stuff, but looking at my files just now, chapters are missing? which means that any multi-chapter fics are probably ruined, meaning I have to go back and re-download a large amount of the 573 fics I downloaded yesterday. T_T

I tried fichub and it seemed to download fine, but I am still Upset about having to redo this much work

#asks #martian-garden #ff.n #fanfiction.net

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tangledinink · 1 year ago

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"This was supposed to be easy. A simple re-introduction to crime-fighting after taking so much time off to heal after the invasion. Dipping his toes back into the water, so to speak. Maybe it was because it was easy that he let this happen."

my beta @livsinpjs and i are playing a game where they choose a bad things happen bingo prompt and then i write a thing for them. i'm having a lovely time. guess which prompt this one was? anyway, read on ao3 or below the cut! :3c

This was supposed to be easy.

Baby’s First Mission, so to speak. Or perhaps, more accurately, Baby’s First Mission, Take Two: Electric Boogaloo, because it was certainly not the first time Leo had debuted his mad skillz on the mean lean streets of NYC, thank you very much. It was, however, the first time in… a while.

Assuming Leo had his math right, it had been about four and a half months. Four and a half months since he had participated in any degree of crime fighting.

It took him four and a half months to recover enough from the invasion for his family to even consider letting him participate in the simplest of ninja tasks. And, okay, fine. It was… kind of understandable. Leo wasn’t a total idiot. He could recognize that he had been pretty fucked up. Like, for real fucked up. Not that everyone else wasn’t, he had just…

He had just had a bit more ground to cover. After the Prison Dimension, and stuff. That was all.

Nothing he couldn’t handle. No big.

… Because he had! He had covered that ground! It was all covered now, totally out of sight and out of mind, and honestly, he was basically bounced back, good as new, as if the whole thing had never happened! Yes, okay, he did have some… lingering scars and aches and such, but so did everyone else! And they were super-soldier mutants, after all. They healed fast. All the broken limbs, the torn muscles, the lacerations and the cracks and the internal injuries-- they were all good now. He had a clean bill of health! Sure, he had given the clean bill of health to himself, but he hadn’t cut any corners or given himself any breaks.

He wouldn’t do that to his family.

He knew it had been… hard. Usually, he was the one who took care of any injuries or boo-boos, and things had admittedly been kind of touch-and-go there for a minute before he had recovered back enough to offer any of his (self-taught…) expertise, with his family struggling to fill in the gaps he left behind. But things were okay now. He had been good and patient and tolerant about being trapped in the Lair, bored out of his mind, for four and a half months.

He was ready to be back out here.

And it was just a patrol!

“Things have been, like, stupid quiet today,” Leo muttered softly to himself as he wandered along the rooftops, balancing on the edge, his arms held out to keep himself steady. “What’s the deal?”

“Isn’t a lack of crime considered, you know, a good thing?” Donnie questioned, looking up from his tech gauntlet to raise a brow at his twin. Leo scoffed softly, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not saying it’s bad! I’m just making an observation!”

“Things have been a little calmer ever since the invasion,” Raph observed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I guess even the criminals are still spooked,” Mikey chirped.

“Boring,” Leo muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” Donnie said, and Leo shot him a mischievous grin.

“Oh, please, as if you’re not dying to go beat up some bad guys, too!” He flashed back, hopping down from his makeshift balance beam to fall into step with his brothers, looping an arm around his twin, who groaned in irritation. “We’re ninjas! We need things to ninja! It’s the natural order of things, Dee! We need, like… enrichment! For our enclosures!”

“Leo, get off of--”

Donnie’s gauntlet began to chirp brightly, and Leo gasped, reaching over.

“Ooh! Is that a bad guy code!? Is that one of your crime alert things!? What does it say!?”

“Well, get off of me so I can read it!” Donnie snapped in response, growling softly as he kicked his brother away. Leo whined but allowed himself to be shoved, stumbling and spinning dramatically as he went. Mikey caught him with a giggle and Leo slumped into him, draping an arm over his head.

“By my own brother…!”

“Shut up,” Donnie muttered. “A convenience store three blocks from here was robbed. Four suspects fleeing north. And by the way, that would be code six-seven-five-point--”

“A robbery?! Perfect! We could handle that in our sleep! And they’re even running towards us! Isn’t that a fun change of pace?” Leo cried, grinning big as he rose back up to his full height, unsheathing his katanas with a satisfying shwing . God, it felt so good to do that again. “What do you say, hermanos? ”

Three grins echoed his own-- even Donnie.

“That’s what I like to see,” Leo sang. “C’mon, let’s go ruin some bad guys’ day!”

---

Maybe Leo was a little rusty, but he wasn’t wrong, either.

They could handle these shmucks in their sleep.

Maybe that had been the problem.

Things had been going well, quite frankly. Really well! Leo still wasn’t sure where he miscalculated-- where he had missed. The game plan had been solid! They were all totally in sync and completely in control. Everything went just the way it should. They got the jump on the suspects, and when two had fled left and the other two right, Leo had sent Mikey and Raph in one direction, and he and Donnie had gone in the other. And they weren’t even far from each other-- he could still hear Raph and Mikey yelling from here, just around the corner, having easily cornered their part of the group and making quick work of them. And he and Donnie had been doing the same. It wasn’t even hard. I mean, come on. They had defeated the Kraang. What were these guys to him?

That one guy had just barely gotten a hit on him. Just barely.

It was just bad luck, really. He had jumped out of the disarmed robber’s clumsy attempt at an attack, leaping up onto a nearby dumpster and then flipping over, back behind him. And he didn’t get hurt, per se, he just--

He just landed on his bad leg. That was all. And his knee kind of… didn’t appreciate it, was the thing. And so he stumbled. Just a tiny bit. Just ever-so-slightly.

Just long enough for that stupid asshole to whip around and slug him, sending him reeling backward.

“Leo!” Donnie hissed in alarm, his eyes widening as Leo fell back, stumbling slightly. With a quick sweep of his bo staff, he had thrown the other criminal to the ground, promptly abandoning the fight in order to instead rush to Leo’s side. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine! Takes more than that to knock me out,” Leo scoffed, waving off his concerns quickly. “What are you over here fussing at me for? We still got two dudes to take down! Mikey and Raph are gonna win and embarrass us!”

“Maybe we should re-evaluate--”

“Dee, chill. It was one punch. I’m not even bleeding,” Leo snapped, just barely sparing Donnie a glance before he was re-focused on the task at hand-- at the two goons who they had now allowed the space to regroup and begin a hasty retreat.

“But you’re hurt--”

“Come on! They’re gonna get away!” Leo hissed, brushing past Donnie so that he could give chase. He grit his teeth as the pair darted back around the corner of the alley, picking up his pace to pursue and re-adjusting his grip on his katanas.

“Wait--!”

“Dude, I’ve got it, chill,” Leo snapped, bristling the tiniest bit from irritation. Look, sure, he knew he had gotten fucked up and that it was scary, but he was better now! They didn’t have to keep acting like he was some fragile doll-- why couldn’t they understand that and just trust him--!?

“Leo--!” Out of the very corners of his eyes, he saw his twin brother surge forward, a hand clamping onto his shoulder and attempting to yank him back behind him. Leo cursed, stumbling slightly, pulling back in resistance and turning slightly to glare.

“Dee, stop it, I’m--”

His words died in his mouth as an explosive bang cut through them both, echoing through the alley, dramatic and demanding-- insisting it be heard. Leo flinched back at the assault to his senses. He could feel the noise bouncing through his head. His ears were ringing. It was so loud. His vision blurred for a second as his balance wobbled.

He thought blearily for a second, what the hell was that?

And then he thought, that was really loud.

And then he felt Donnie’s grip on his shoulder falter and loosen.

And it fell away.

---

Maybe it was because it was easy that he let this happen.

Maybe it was because it was ‘no big deal’ that he had disarmed the suspect and left it at that, and hadn’t thought to check or wonder if that was his only weapon.

---

A second ago, it had been so loud, and now all of a sudden, it was so quiet, and it took a second for Leo to force his body to move enough so that he could wrench his head up enough to look over at his brother.

“Oh my god--”

Donnie kind of seemed like he was trying to respond, but he didn’t quite manage it. He curled a bit further in on himself, struggling to keep himself up on his knees rather than falling over entirely. And the next sound Leo heard was the splash of liquid dripping down onto asphalt.

---

Everything was moving kind of fast.

Which was probably good. Because Donnie was bleeding a lot.

He had started screaming for Raph and Mikey, he remembered, sort of vaguely, though it felt like a long time ago now. And he was sure that they heard him, and he was sure they were coming, but after about five seconds of watching Donnie bleed like that, making these fucking horrible noises in the back of his throat like breathing was suddenly hurting him, Leo decided he couldn’t wait.

Mikey and Raph would catch up.

Donnie needed first aid right now.

The Turtle Tank was close. He could get them there. He was out of practice and panicking, but he knew he could teleport them there, at least, and they had supplies there, and Mikey and Raph could come and help, and it would be okay--

It would be fine.

Donnie would be fine.

It would be fine if he could just get them there. Just to the Turtle Tank. It was close. He just had to get Donnie to the Tank, and he’d be okay.

“Hang on. Hang on, don’t move. Just-- don’t move--” He bit out, his voice frantic as he kneeled down next to the other, grabbing onto them. He was embarrassed to admit that it took him a few tries, but all he could see in his mind when he tried to focus his energy was the blood and how fucking awful the wound looked, oh my god--

But he got them there. They jolted slightly on arrival, and Leo winced, listening to this short groan be pulled from Donnie’s chest as his knees finally buckled fully beneath him.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s okay. Just-- it’s fine. You’re okay--” Leo kept biting out as he held onto his twin, easing him down onto his back on the floor of the tank, and he wasn’t really sure who he was trying to reassure. And up until now, Leo had been panicking, but he hadn’t been crying.

Now he was looking at his brother, his shoulder torn open like it was fucking raw, chewed-up meat, trembling on the cold metal floor and wheezing painfully. And he hiccuped, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Oh, fuck--”

Because it kind of sunk in for the first time that Donnie did this on purpose.

“Why-- why did you do that?” He hissed weakly, his voice trembling as he rushed to grab the first aid kit. “What is wrong with you?!”

Donnie gave this very weak, strangled sort of noise, which sounded like it was trying to be laughter, but was shaking and wet.

“This is why you always lose at team FPS games,” he mumbled, his speech slurred slightly, lips ever-so-slightly turning up into this pained little half-grin. Leo swallowed at the sight of it, forcing his eyes away, hurriedly yanking supplies from their first-aid kit and ripping open packs of gauze.

“What-- what the fuck are you even talking about? Just-- stay still, I, I have to apply pressure and it’s gonna suck, just, try not to move--”

“Gotta protect your healer, dum-dum,” Donnie muttered, agreeably going limp beneath Leo’s hands, his head lolling back against the metal of the tank with a soft thud as his eyes fluttered shut. “Tha’s… basics. N-now-- hurry up and-- and fix me.”

Leo sobbed.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you,” he whispered in a shaky little mantra, tripping over his own words over and over as he shoved bandages up against the honest to god hole in Donnie’s shoulder, blood bubbling up like a fucking drinking fountain, just below his throat and just barely to the right of the metal strap of his battle shell because of course it was, of fucking course it was. The bullet was most likely literally lodged inside his fucking battle shell right now, but a lot of good the stupid shell did if the bullet went through his brother to get there--

His clavicle is probably shattered, he thought to himself, and he swallowed hard-- but he didn’t allow himself to hesitate. Even if he didn’t wanna do this.

Donnie couldn’t afford to lose much more blood, and he couldn’t afford to lose any time to Leo hesitating over putting him in more pain.

Leo braced both palms over the wound, internally said a preemptive apology, and shifted his entire weight forward onto his hands, leaning hard into his brother.

Donatello’s eyes flashed back open.

Somehow, his strength seemed to renew itself, which would be comforting if it wasn’t all being wasted in his body instinctively fighting back against the pain, jerking sharply beneath Leo’s touch. A choked howl wrenched its way from Donnie’s throat as he writhed against him, all his limbs flailing for just a second and his muscles twitching before he could gather himself enough to try and wrest control of his body again, attempting desperately to follow directions.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dee. I have to,” Leo hissed through clenched teeth, hiccuping softly, shifting slightly so he could pin his brother down properly-- holding him forcibly in place by his injured shoulder. Luckily, the fight didn’t last long, and soon Donatello had settled back down again, only trembling and twitching beneath him. Leo tried to find it in himself to be grateful, but honestly, the stillness was somehow even worse. “I’m sorry--”

“This does suck,” Donnie wheezed out weakly, gritting his teeth, and Leo forced this watery little chuckle in reply.

“I told you,” he bit out, sniffling a little. He knew that he was dripping tears down onto his brother with how he was hunched over him, and he knew that under normal circumstances Donnie would think that that was fucking disgusting. But he couldn’t free up any hands or move right now to wipe them away, and honestly, Donnie probably had bigger things to worry about at the moment. “Oh my god. I hate you. I f-fucking hate you. Why did you do this…?”

“Payback,” Donnie slurred, and Leo decided right then and there that that was going to haunt him for at least the next ten years of his life.

“I’m sorry--”

“Don’t--” Donnie had more to say, Leo could tell, but his words kept dying in his throat like he was forgetting what he was gonna say halfway through.

Or like he was giving up.

“Hey. Don’t go to sleep,” Leo hissed, increasing the pressure ever so slightly and jostling him, his brother wincing and wriggling in response. “You gotta stay up. Okay? It’s gonna be fine. You’re okay. It’s-- it’s just your shoulder. No big deal! The technodrome was way worse than this, this is like-- like a papercut! You’re gonna be fine,” he insisted, though he could hear how his own voice wobbled. “Come on. Just stay awake with me, okay?”

Donnie moaned softly in response, forcing one eye open again.

Leo swallowed hard, squeezing his own eyes shut for a moment to try to force himself to refocus.

He couldn’t just sit here and apply pressure. He had to-- he had to get him back to the Lair. To the Medbay, so he could actually treat him properly. He racked his brain, trying to calculate how many blood bags they had in storage. They had learned their lesson after the Invasion, and they kept blood bags, because they were stupid fucked up mutants and they couldn’t get blood from anyone except for each other, but blood only kept for so long! And even if they did still have some, they were all stored cold. They were all in the fridge in the MedBay. He couldn’t use cold blood. And they wouldn’t have time to warm anything up. Donnie would be dead by the time it was usable.

So he was gonna need Mikey. Mikey had the matching blood type. Mikey had universal blood, and none of the rest of them matched. And Donnie was losing so much blood still. All the gauze was soaking through. Fuck. Had they hit an artery or something? For a moment he brain racked frantically through all the major arteries and their locations, trying to name and place them, before he snapped out of it, giving a sharp shake of his head. Focus! Blood. Mikey. Mikey and Raph-- we need them.

“Hey. Hey, Don, I need you-- I need you to lift your left arm for me a tiny bit, okay?” Donnie stiffened slightly and whined. “I know. I know, I just-- I need to call Mikey and Raph and tell them where we’re at, okay? C’mon. Just for a minute, I swear--”

And Donnie made this fucking horrible noise as he did it, but he was a goddamn champion and a trooper and he did it anyway, and Leo dared to remove one of his hands from the wound just long enough so that he could smack at the screen of Donnie’s gauntlet. He smeared blood across the glass, pushing away all the notifications and alerts that were flooding the space. It had been beeping like crazy for a while now, Leo belatedly realized, and while he was sure a lot of this was due to Donnie being literally shot, he would also not be surprised if Mikey and Raph had tried to call them about eighty times now.

He managed to place a call back.

Raph picked up instantly.

“LEO! Where are you!? Are you hurt!? What happened--”

“We’re in the tank!” He hissed, fighting to keep his voice from breaking. “It’s-- w-we’re okay, but I, I need you to get back here ‘cause we-- we gotta go home, like-- like, right now--”

---

Once his brothers were there, he could make them hold the gauze in place. He could wrap the wound enough so that he could maybe feel halfway okay with moving Donnie. And he could take the five seconds he needed to recenter himself and make a portal back home.

And that was all good. But it was also when things started to get really fucking scary.

Because even though he knew that Raph was holding him so, so fucking carefully, just the movement of jumping through the portal and into the Medbay back in the Lair tore this horrendous fucking scream from Donnie, his entire body jerking and locking up slightly as he curled up against Raph, and then he had absolutely sobbed and Leo’s heart went up into his throat because Donnie wasn’t a crier. Donnie cried, sure, but rarely. And he certainly didn’t cry from pain.

He might be a nerd and a drama queen, but he was way tougher than he let on. Combat may not always be the main focus in his world, but he was perfectly capable of going toe-to-toe with the rest of them without breaking a sweat-- sometimes even outpacing them-- and he wasn’t afraid of pain.

Donnie was perfectly capable of growing overwhelmed and emotional and being brought to tears. Of course he was. He was a person. Leo had seen him cry plenty of times before, even if it was a rarely-observed phenomenon.

But he didn’t cry from pain.

Which meant that right now, Donnie was clinging to Raph and fucking weeping not because he was in pain, but because he was scared. And that was what scared Leo.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, we made it. Everything’s gonna be fine now, hermano, I swear. We’ve got you,” he hissed, rushing to begin throwing open cabinets, yanking supplies out of drawers and storage bins. Blood. We gotta deal with the blood loss first, and then everything else. He’s gonna bleed out if we don’t-- “Raph, put-- put him down on the bed, and Mikey, you run-- No. No, wait, Mikey, don’t go anywhere. Raph, you go get Dad. Mikey, you-- you and Raph gotta switch off, you gotta keep the pressure on the wound--” he hissed out frantic instructions, his mind tripping over itself in his haste.

He was dimly aware that Raph and Mikey were in tears, too, but his had stopped a while ago now. He had had his turn, and he needed to focus right now. He didn’t have time to cry anymore.

By the time he had what he needed, which had only taken seconds, Raph was already gone and Mikey had taken his place, holding Donnie down to the cot by his shoulder and sobbing weakly.

“It’s okay, we’re home now. Everything is gonna be fine, Dee…!” He kept saying in between little sniffles and hiccups. “We’re home, it’s okay…!”

“Good job, Miguelito. Uhm, here. Can you-- I need you to twist your elbow a little, okay?” He instructed, a bit haltingly, tossing the required supplies down on top of Donnie as he tried to navigate between them, ducking past Mikey’s arms. “Okay-- yeah, yeah, good. Alright. Uhm. Dee-- Dee needs some blood, okay? So I’m gonna-- Mikey, more pressure than that--!”

“It’s-- it’s hurting him--

“Do it anyway. Yeah, okay, Yes. Like that. Okay, good. Uhm. I’m just-- I’m gonna poke you real quick so he can have some of yours, so I just-- I need you to stay still for me so I can find a vein. Okay?”

Mikey just sobbed in reply, nodding fervently.

It took Leo about four tries to find a vein in Mikey’s arm, and then three tries to find one on Donnie, and he cursed himself and apologized about eighty times, swearing that he would practice more later and get good enough so he could get the vein on the first time, every single time, no matter what.

(Goddammit, why did Mikey have to be the universal donor? Why couldn’t it have been Raph? Or him? Mikey was so small. He kept missing the veins because his hands were shaking so badly. He had never done a direct transfusion before. It would be so easy to take too much. If he didn’t pay close enough attention he could end up killing Mikey with this so easily--)

“Purple!”

Leo’s head jerked up slightly, his eyes wide. He hadn’t even heard Dad and Raph coming back until they were here. Their dad absolutely flew to Donnie’s side, all but jumping on him, finding his hand to grab, his other hand resting on his child’s cheek. “Oh-- oh, Purple. It’s okay. It is okay, my son, we are here. Your family is right here. You’re going to be okay--!”

“Dad--” Donnie whimpered, and his voice sounded so small and weak and un-Donnie-like that oh, actually, okay. He had thought he had worked past the tears.

But he had not. They were back now. And Leo sobbed, his knees nearly going out from under him, because oh my god.

Jesus christ.

Donnie was shot. Donnie got shot and he was bleeding out right now in front of him, and it should have been him.

He should have been paying attention and being more careful and now Donnie had been fucking shot and it should have been him--

“Blue.”

Leo choked on another sob, his head just barely lifting up to meet his father’s eyes. And his voice was so gentle and careful, but so firm as he grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him back out from under the water where he had been drowning a second ago.

“It’s going to be okay,” their dad said. “Just tell us what you need us to do.”

Right. Right.

Leo swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut.

He was the healer.

And he had to fix Donnie.

He could do this.

“I--” His voice shook, so he stopped and sniffled and started again, hurriedly wiping at his face. “H-he’s, he’s s-still bleeding, really bad, and I-- I think it h-hit an artery or something so I. I gotta g-go in and, and put in a clamp, or, or do a repair, or s-something, so I--”

He took in a long, deep breath, his entire body trembling.

“So I need Mikey to sit down and stick close. And I need someone to get him food and water ‘cause he’s Donnie’s lifeline right now so he can’t pass out. And I need Donnie’s battle shell off-- carefully. And I need to grab the drugs to put him under and I-- I need to scrub in.”

---

Leo had never intended to be the medic of the team. It was never a goal of his or anything-- it’s not like one day he sat down and said, ‘oh, you know what would be super fun? Being responsible for the health and safety of all my family members in times of crisis!’

‘Cause, uh, no. No, thank you.

It had just… it had just sort of happened.

He had just fallen into it at some point. Whenever something went wrong or something got hurt, if Dad wasn’t around to immediately pick them up and patch them up, then somehow, it would fall to Leo to take over until Dad got there-- because Donnie was squeamish with blood and Mikey got distracted, and Raph would get so focused on trying to get whichever brother was crying to calm down that he’d kind of forget about the whole first aid bit.

So Leo would do it. If Dad wasn’t there right away, then Leo figured could get out the bandaids and the neosporin and get the scraped elbow or bloody knee all fixed up. And then when he did, once dad did get there, he would always smile and pat his head and say, ‘good job, Blue.’ And every single time, Leo would just beam at the praise, all filled up with excited and warm and fuzzy and proud.

So he took it upon himself to always jump in and help whenever anyone got hurt-- not just when Dad wasn’t around. And eventually, he learned how to do more stuff. When Mikey sprained his ankle skateboarding, he got Donnie to help him look it up on the computer so he could help treat him. And when Raph tore out one of his claws, he scoured WebMD and VCA articles alike to figure out how he could best help. And then, slowly but surely, he fell down more and more rabbit holes. He’d look up the symptoms of concussions when Donnie fell and bumped his head, and then he’d just end up opening up every related and suggested article. Internal bleeding, TBIs, nerve damage, spinal cord injuries…

He devoured medical textbooks. He watched videos of surgeries on YouTube. He studied recorded lectures from college classes online. The more he learned, the more he found it to be genuinely interesting. So he learned more.

And the more he learned, the more often he could say, “I know how to take care of that,” when someone was injured. And the more often he said that the more people would come to him when they were injured and ask for his help.

And he liked that.

Every time he was able to help, he’d still get that warm fuzzy feeling. Because this was something he could do. This was how he could help his family. And god, that fucking meant something to him.

And by now, he was… he was pretty good at it. Or, at least, he thought he was. He was pretty sure he was…! But he was still just…

Leo.

He was still just some dumb teenage kid, barely seventeen, who grew up in the sewer and had literally no formal education or training.

He was a decent medic, sure.

But a surgeon he was not.

He had watched surgeries. He had studied them. He understood the concept and what he had to do and how it had to be done. But he had never really done it before.

About five different times, he thought, oh my fucking god, what am I doing? I’m going kill him--

And then five different times, he thought, what other choice is there? If you don’t try, you’ll still kill him.

So he washed the ever-loving shit out of his hands. He got things as sterile as he possibly could in the MedBay. He drew up the required drugs, all acquired through illicit means by the brother they were now being used on and pushed them through the IV line he had set up. (‘Nighty-night, motherfucker,’ he had said to Donnie, and they had kind of weakly, shakily laughed in response.) He got every tool and drug and contingency that he could possibly think of and he made sure it was all within arm’s reach.

And then he had opened his twin brother up.

And suddenly the MedBay was his OR. And he was the trauma surgeon. And he was also the anesthesiologist. He was the nurse and the assistant, too, and the doctor for his youngest brother at the same time, who was now also actively bleeding out alongside Donnie for his sake, desperately attempting to use what he had to keep two bodies alive instead of just one. And Raph and Dad were there to help, but there was only so much they could do. Dad was pretty knowledgeable, but only to an extent! And he was so fucking glad they were there, thank god they were all there, but it was still…

He was the medic. It was on him.

He worked for almost an hour before he had to call it. He actually tried to call it two times before that, worried about how much blood Mikey was losing, afraid to keep going. But every time he did, Mikey set his expression and shook his head and asked, “Is he okay yet?”

And Leo would hesitate just long enough that Mikey would narrow his eyes and say, “Keep going until you’re sure. I’m still okay. I can keep going.”

At some point, Raph’s sole responsibility to the operation was just to watch Mikey and nothing else. To sit with him and monitor his heart rate, to talk with him and make sure he was breathing okay, that he was still able to move, to speak clearly, to follow a conversation.

But eventually, he had to call it.

He just had to trust that he had done enough. To just pray that things might be okay. That he had done a decent enough job for Donnie to live. His collarbone was still totally fucked , but at least the artery was patched, and that was the most important thing-- or at least, he thought it was patched. He hoped it was. But he couldn’t go any longer. He couldn’t take anything else from Mikey or else they were gonna have two unconscious brothers.

He wasn’t a surgeon.

He just did the best that he possibly could.

The entire time he worked, he was laser-focused, desperately willing himself to keep his eyes on the task at hand. But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think about the invasion.

And he kept thinking about what a horrific state they had all been in after the invasion. And he thought about how he still couldn’t remember… the first, like… five days after Staten Island. And he didn’t really even know what they did. Or how they managed.

He had come home in fucking pieces. They all had. Mikey’s burnt skin had been fucking sloughing off his arms. He remembered realizing that Donnie was leaving bloody footprints behind him when he walked for how much blood he was losing, dripping down his legs. Half of Raph’s face had been an open wound, and he swore he could still see it when he closed his eyes, through all the bits and pieces, in between all the massive gaps in his memories.

And he just kept thinking about them all dealing with this same situation, but a million times worse. And he hadn’t helped.

He got Donnie all stitched up. He got Mikey laid up in a second bed and gave him some of his own blood from, like, a month ago because they did still have a blood bag in cold storage that they had been able to warm, and then finally allowed him to pass the fuck out after shoving, like… so much pasta and cookies into him. He pushed the reversal dose into his twin.

He still had no idea if he actually fixed it. He didn’t know if he had actually managed to stop the bleeding entirely or not. For all he knew, he was still bleeding out now. For all he knew, he wouldn’t wake up.

He settled down to wait and to watch.

---

The sound was so soft, he almost didn’t hear it.

It was hardly even there.

It had been a while now. Raph and Dad waited with him, taking turns watching Mikey and Donnie and doing whatever they could to help and trying to get him to rest, too.

But he didn’t want to rest.

(Neither did they. So even though they all repeatedly said to each other, ‘seriously, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted, I can watch him for a while,’ none of them really listened and none of them really had the room to push it, either.)

It was just weird luck. Dad had gone to fetch some food and tea for them. And Raph had just left, carrying Mikey back to his own room, because Leo had finally declared him stable, though exhausted, and he kept getting woken up over and over by the rest of them in here, and while Leo knew he’d never complain about it, it was a little heartbreaking to watch.

So for just a moment, it was just Leo and Donnie in the Medbay.

And Leo sighed very softly, laying his head down in his arms and bouncing his leg anxiously, biting at the inside of his cheek.

Please. Please. Please wake up. I swear, I will never do anything stupid and dumb or selfish ever again. I swear I’ll learn my lesson this time. Please. Just. Please. Please wake up. Don’t make my fuck ups be his consequences, please--

And he was so caught up in his own thoughts, he almost didn’t hear it at first.

This tiny, soft little chirp, just barely echoed through the cold white space.

He almost didn’t hear it.

But he did.

And his head snapped up, his eyes wide.

Donnie blinked very slowly, twitching the tiniest bit and visibly struggling to force his eyes open. And he chirped again. And Leo almost immediately burst into tears.

“Holy fuck. Don. Oh my god-- Never do that again. I-- oh my god. Thank fuck. I’m so fucking sorry--”

Donnie chuffed shakily in response and mumbled something completely incomprehensible, but didn’t quite have it in him to reply with words just yet. Leo didn’t mind. He’d take the opportunity to just continue to cry and hang onto him and touch his face and make sure he was actually there, actually alive. And to bite out apologies over and over and over until Donnie was finally awake enough to cut in.

“Leo. Shut up.”

“Sorry. Sorry, I--”

“Stop saying sorry.”

“Okay,” Leo finally whispered, hiccuping weakly, laying his head down on the bed again, sniffling a bit. “Okay. Uhm. I-- are you okay…?”

“Peachy.”

“Don’t be a bitch,” Leo mumbled weakly. “I’m trying to be the goddamn healer, remember?”

“I’m okay,” Donnie breathed, shifting ever-so-slightly in bed and wincing a bit at the movement. “Fucking-- sore. But I think I’m okay. Drugs’re working for sure.”

“Good,” Leo said, and then was quiet for a little bit.

“Never do that again,” Leo whispered.

“I still think my logic was solid--”

“Donnie--”

“Okay, look,” Donnie sighed. “It’s not like I made a conscious choice, okay? I wasn’t-- I wasn’t trying to get shot. I would have actually really, really preferred not to get shot! Two really’s! My goal wasn’t to take the damn bullet, okay? I just--” He huffed softly, letting his eyes flutter shut again.

“I just saw the gun and I wanted you to be safe. So I moved. I was just trying to get you out of the way. That’s all.”

Leo swallowed hard, covering his mouth with his hand and gritting his teeth. “If I hadn’t-- If I hadn’t let that guy hit me. Or if I-- if I listened to you when you told me to stop, then they wouldn’t have--”

“Yeah, maybe,” Donnie scoffed. “And if I hadn’t gotten all protective over your getting hit one time, and if I had listened to you when you told me that you were fine, then maybe I wouldn’t have gotten shot then, either!”

“I’m-- I’m sorry, I should have--”

“Cut it out,” Donnie immediately cut off. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? Shit just happens sometimes. It’s not like you were being a reckless idiot. You weren’t trying to get shot, either. Sometimes, things just happen. This is unfortunately the way of the world. It’s just a big random number generator. Or something,” he grumbled a bit, wrinkling up his nose. “I dunno. I’m pretty high. You get it, though.”

Leo kept quiet for a minute, and then slowly nodded.

“... Yeah.”

“And it’s not payback, either,” Donnie mumbled tiredly. “Sorry I said that shit. It’s just that I was in shock and bleeding out at the time, and therefore not really in the best mindset…”

Leo scowled. “You don’t have to apologize--”

“We already talked about it. And we’re okay. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” he said. “So just, like… let me apologize or whatever. You know how rare of a moment this is. So just take it.”

The two of them were quiet for a second.

“Were things really bad after the Invasion?” Leo asked. Donnie cracked open an eye so he could look at his brother.

“What? Obviously, things were bad, Leo. What kind of a question is that?”

“Because--” Leo broke off, frowning. “Because I didn’t help--”

“Well, yeah, because you were literally comatose.”

“Y-yeah, but-- I-- If I hadn’t, it would’ve--”

“Look, Leo, if you had been around immediately after the Invasion, it probably would have helped,” Donnie sighed. “But it still would have sucked! And you weren’t, and we were still okay. None of us died. You didn’t die. We had people to help us, and it was okay. And it’s not your fucking fault that an alien literally tried to beat you to death. I dunno how many times we have to go over this-- fuck. Can we please not discuss this anymore while I’m high? ‘Cause I’m on, like… so many drugs right now, I’m pretty sure. So I’m probably being kind of an asshole. Oh my god. What did you give me?” He muttered, his voice slurring a bit as his head lolled to the side, his will to keep his eyes open failing him once more. And Leo laughed despite himself, reaching over to pat his brother’s head.

“The good shit, brother,” he said, exhaling softly through his nose. “... Yeah. Okay. Understood. I’m just. Fuck. I’m just really glad you’re okay.”

Donnie chirped very softly at him.

And Leo chirped back.

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