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charmed-asylum · 5 years ago

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🐍 Envious Lover 🐍

Summary: With no where else to go Loki has only one last option to save his home and that you. What can worst then going to your ex, a goddess of gods.

Loki x Reader ( goddess)

Word count: 3,733

⚠️WARNING ⚠️: Goddess being everyone goals, Loki being a jealous sassy boy, Thor being his adorable self, sassy reader , goddess reader, I little of bow chicka wow wow, angst, and a lot more I can’t remember

A/N: I wrote this for the @finleyjayne rainbow writing challenge. I have dyslexia so if something wrong please tell me. This is also my first fanfic I have ever wrote. I had a lot of fun and I just gain more respect then I had before for fanfic writers. Thanks to @kity for pushing me to do it. Also thanks to @hellcaster901 @deceitfuldevout @linkispink1995 for being wonderful to me during this process ❤️ you guys. Alright enjoy and CONGRATULATIONS TO FIN for this wonderful achievement!!!!! ( also check out master list for some goodies)

Tagged: @alagalaska @linkispink1995 @deceitfuldevout @hellcaster901 @alias-b @opheliadawnwalker3

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

Master List

You stood tall like a stem of beauty. Your hair was glowing with a dark lust in the bright dying sun. You were a mystery. Your eyes were keepers of souls and secrets, and your voice was made of silky waves of desire. You were a siren and with one sound– even one as quiet as a whimper or soft moan– any man would be forevermore trapped in your grasp.

“Who, father, should I give a good night kiss for such a surprise? Cry of a tear as the lady finds such men without a breath,” you asked softly as you walked down the hallway covered in ivy. Loki rolled his eyes. He couldn’t deny you were the woman of his dreams. Unfortunately, he was also far too stubborn to ever admit this.

You were still bitter after the untimely death of your fiancé. You spent your days hosting high-end balls and festivities. You spent your nights playing with the hearts and passions of the endless stream of men begging to please you.

“Aren't you the whore of all things gold,” Loki said, his words laced with sweet venom.

“You know, when I was born of triumph at the end of all galaxies, my mother looked me dead in my eyes and told me that I was dangerous. Want to know why little boy?

“Oh please do tell me why, pet,” he said as he rolled his eyes. He was intrigued by you and the idea that you had a bit of a dark side only made him want you more, but of course, the god of mischief wouldn’t let you know that you had power over him.

“Because even though I may look like only possession or pet, I am more. So much more in fact that all gods come to me. They bow down to me, pray to me, and hope that I bestow my love onto them. Whenever there is no one left, I am their sole hope and their end. As they sleep at night in a room full of guards, they are unaware of how easily I could slip inside their room and slit their throat. How easily I could sink my teeth into their necks. How much I want to inject them with the green venom that drips from my painted lips. They have no idea how precarious their situation is whenever they are in my presence.” You said as you glared down at him.

“And do you kill them?” Loki asked as he cleared his throat. You smirked at him as you sensed his fear and attraction to you.

“Maybe one day you will know the answer to that question. Until then, all you need to know is this: I am not a whore of all things gold as you say. I am hope and peril all wrapped into one. I am an empress. You are in my kingdom. So act as such,” you said as you walked past him. Your head held high as you ambled into a garden full of gold and green.

He turned to follow you and tried to act as disinterested as he could, but the sway of your hips made him feel the blood rush to his face and other parts as well. With each step closer he could hear the loud boom of commotion. There was loud music drifting through the air. It was another party. Loki knew that while you basked in a lively and over the top way of life and love from admirers, it was all just a facade. That victorious smile and eyes that sparkled with grave darkness told him everything he needed to know. You were just like him: alone.

“You say such harsh words. Are you not going to enjoy such a garish party? What is the cause of the celebration today? Oh, I know! It must be that you got a brand new pair of shoes or a tiara maybe,” Loki said with a cocky smirk. He was trying to egg you on because if he can get you angry maybe you will reveal what he suspects to be behind that mask of yours.

You walked by a pond in the center of your garden and gently sat on a rock. Below you, your reflection looks back at you, judging you with a mirror of truth. Your long dainty fingers with gold claw-like nails dip a few fingers in it to disturb its image. He wondered if you had even cared enough to listen to his words.

“Do you know why I love this pond?” You asked, not waiting for an answer before you continue. “It has to do with the unpredictability and volatility of life. Everything can change. It only takes a second for the odds to flip to another’s favor, but this,” you looked up into his dark eyes. “It always remains the same.”

You took your hand out of the water, “You came for an alliance and my loyalty is with you, as always, but this time it can’t be against him,” you said and pointed at Thor, who was too busy playing with the snake in his hands to notice. You smiled at the gentle playfulness of this giant. Even with all he had been through and everything he still will endure he remained the same hopeful man as before.

“Isn’t she gorgeous? It was a present from your dear brother. It follows me as I go. Just like the one who gave it,” you said laying back with lust in your eyes. Loki licked his lips as you gave him a seductive wink. He took a deep breath as he tried to ignore the way that seeing you like this made him feel. You were flirtatious by nature, and you loved taunting and provoking men until they go mad.

“We come here in the hope that you assist us in fighting our dear long lost sister, Hela. Surprisingly, she’s more of a pest than you,” Loki said as he tried to gain back control and push you further away.

“Did you know that once your dear brother turned into a nasty green snake in order to scare off my suitors? He stopped when one of them tried to catch and cook him. After that he cried like a baby for hours,” you said with a smile.

“Oh, Thor. Do you mind giving me and Loki some time to talk? There’s ale and a huge feast inside. Do make yourself at home, love,” you said, your eyes not leaving Loki’s.

“Yes, my lady. Brother, I feel this lady can be the woman of your dreams and maybe make love by the fire on her bear fur rug in her chambers.” Thor said gently, putting the snake down. Loki’s face burns red as the embarrassment of him talking in his sleep and you find out what he dreams of is revealed.

“You idiot! You’re not supposed to repeat that out loud,” Loki hissed.

Even though your face remained neutral, you took enormous pleasure at this new revelation. Your mind returned to the sensual thoughts which you had had for years. You pushed your shoulders back and walked close to Loki and turned to whisper in his ear, “who knew red was such a beautiful color on you.”

You laughed as you watched Loki once again struggle to find words. You placed a small four-leaf clover behind his ear and gently placed your hand on his cheek. It had been so long since you last felt each other’s touch. After one touch it all came rushing back. All the long nights in the thrill of a secret affair. Loki's hands followed yours. Hands rough from many years of labor he went through wrapped tightly around yours.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, my dear. Things didn’t go to plan as I hoped. I thought of you every long night,” Loki said placing his lips to the back of your soft hand.

“I could tell you that you dress like a poser. You try too hard. Not like a king you are destined to be. Still, you gallop around making a joke of me. Playing pretend. I waited and had to be chosen as a bride you know,” you said in a deep tone. For such an innocent and gorgeous woman, any man or beast would be fearful if they ever tried to cross you. That in itself made him obsessed with you. His other hand dipped behind you and brought you closer to him.

“I know. You know your mine and still, you choose to always play with me. I may be the god of tricks but I don’t like it when I’m trick on. Sad that fool had an untimely death Huh” Loki said with eyes full of ideas.

Your eyes flutter a bit through your thick long lashes before biting Loki's finger. Giggling a bit you pull away and turn a few times, your gorgeous evening gown turning into a forest green cocktail dress.

“You made me shear tears. I promise you that won’t ever happen. If so I turn you into my plaything like that “you said snapping your finger before walking towards the party.

Mumbling under his breath he ran after you. Before you could step foot into the grand ballroom Loki turned you against the wall and held you tight. Those eyes turn darker than the midnight sky. Lips parted just for a before snapping back in place. Everything about him so addicting.

“Pouting and snapping your fingers doesn’t look so flattering on you. I’m done with this chat. You're a fool with tiny tricks, maybe you could do some for entertainment. Once you grow up then I shall speak to you only when you're being reasonable, Loki!” you said before storming off. That right there drove Loki over the edge. Even with all his tricks and harsh words you always cave in but not this time. You meant what you said. Even your eyes smile all used to be the brightest for him. No matter what you were always on his side. Maybe this world you create shape was more a prison than a simple paradise he first imagines.

Most of the night he couldn’t find you in the sea of people. Till he hears a familiar laugh echoing throughout the room. Rubbing his forehead he prays to high gods alike that he wasn’t embarrassing himself.

To his surprise, it was far from it. Thor stood in the center of attention telling stories lively of battle he played a role in. What made Loki's eye twitch just a little bit more was who Thor had to hug tight to his side but you. You laugh at the mimicry of everyone around you. As if you could feel his eyes on you playfully slap Thor peck before wiping a tear from his eye and feed him another green grape. Hand resting on his chest rubbing little circles laughing.

Loki had to think for a second each time you found someone or thing to replace him he would find ways to either manipulate them to leave or just got rid of them altogether. Could he do that to Thor? Hell yes with the pleasure she might take care of two problems once and for all. But he had more pain than you and his dear dopy brother.

“Oh, Loki. Sweetheart. Please come, your brother was just telling us of a green giant they call a Hulk and it's smashing you like a rag doll” you said into your glass of champagne.

Letting out a deep breath. He looks at the two very disappointed. “That beast is far too dangerous than most beasts you ever saw. You too would be a stump. Pet” Loki said with his arms cross over each other tapping his foot.

“I don’t know. What bolt here telling me isn’t so bad. Sounds cute” You said in a baby voice with a hand on your hip and a resting bitch face.

He glances around before grabbing a glass of green champagne and gulping it in one sit. They had no time to play. All this time could be spent figuring a way to save their land before it is too late. Throughout the night he watches as you gracefully walk around talking laughing ignoring him.

“Dear brother if my time on Earth has proven any knowledge besides they are helpless beings. This thing they call emotions. Lady Jane and my fellow teammates talk a great deal. Maybe if you say I’m sorry for whatever she will forgive you instead of demanding her and her attention solely on you” Thor said drinking some ale.

“Do I look like a lost puppy like you? I can do many things but to apologize to her when she should be but in my debt for me of all things but to fancy her. No, I -“ he stops when he sees you slip away from the party “will do that right now,” Loki said running off after you.

With a gentle touch of green smoke, you disappear before his eyes. Well, this wasn’t something he didn’t see coming. Hours he spent looking high and low far and near for you. Before he finally decides to give up he saw a dim light at the end of the emerald cover walls hallway. A familiar song melody dances in the air. The closer he got he could see your back through the crack in the door as you look at something in your hands.

“If you're going to lurk, at least be slick with it,” you said, your back still facing him.

“Wasn’t looking for you, more like a bathroom. For a fortress, there aren't many. I want to leave one last surprise for you” Loki said, leaning against the door, locking it.

You roll your eyes and walk by a gold satin curtain. A second later arriving from behind with a more revealing outfit. Loki's eyes nearly his socket when you face your backside towards him.

You comb your hair I’m in front of a mirror, “What Thor said earlier is that truth, do you wanna take me raw on my Kermode fur rug? You old kinkster” you look at him through the mirror while combing your luxuriant hair.

You said one thing, but your tone meant another. God how he wishes it didn’t work the way it did. From the innocent but deadly eyes to the way your hands play with your hair, to the way your mouth moves when you speak. God was he in trouble. But he needs you right now. Maybe it was more than he thought or wanted to admit.

Before he knew it you had gotten up and was standing chest to chest to him. Reaching close you look up in his piercing sad but serene eyes then glance to his moist lips. SLAP Loki curses under his breath as he looks at you glared into your eyes. Raising a finger he frowned a bit, “are you out your mind” he hissed. You shrugged your shoulder and smiled, bitting down on your gold frost nail.

“No, I am. I told you that rage and anger will get you nowhere. How dare y-” before you could finish your rant Loki grab you by the waist and shove his mouth onto yours.

Shock by this action you tumble back onto that so rub with him. Even as the pain rushed through your backside you didn’t care as you grabbed tight to his back clawing tight. Marking him. Your mouth dancing with his sucking the air out of one another. His hand slipping to the back and unclipping your green with a gold trimming bra. With his pale long fingers trail his hand from your waist up to cup you breast gently as he left bite marks onto your neck. A deep breathless moan came out as you grabbed onto his long black hair. Looking up to your eyes he smirks and starts to continue to attack your body with such pleasure. “How dare you make me have to come back and you go flaunt yourself around. I thought we both knew your mine and not one else” he said biting down right below your left boob.

“Fuck Loki shut up for once and continue what you're doing. You never officially told me I was yours as you left me behind. So....S...Stop your whinnying” you said pulling him closer to you and bit his neck.

“But you’re wrong before I left I gave you that ring on your finger. Love and that means your mines, not your idiotic ex and most definitely not goodie two shoe brother, Thor’s” Loki said in a scathing tone.

One hand grips tightly around your neck as the other gently grabs some fat off your thigh. Your body curves into his touch begging for more. Each breath was shorter than the last sweat dripping down his forehead. And right as Loki ripped off your thong, you pushed yourself so that you were on top straddling his lap gazing down at him. A huge grin appeared as you grab both hands and move them above his head, your hips rocking back and forth as you kiss him, each one pulling more and more force with it. Instead of moans and curse words, you giggle softly.

“Say it. Say what I want to hear and I’m yours no more games tricks and lies. Say it and this thing you're so proud of would be more than costume jewelry. I will be yours forever and I would stand by you as you become victorious my true king” You hissed. His eyes darkened as he watched you continue to attack him with each hump. Stars of the night started to fulfill his vision and he could see green mist cover the ceiling. Before he could say anything else a cruel comment or a backhanded compliment he shouts out your name. So loud even those in your party could hear it. Thor looks around and smiles into his cup knowing that once the act is done not only would he be in favor of his dear grumpy brother but owe many thanks to you.

Loki looks up to you from the floor both of you basking in such glory after hours of nonstop pleasure. Turning onto his side he leaned his hand on his head and watch you, sitting at your vanity table. You were rubbing lotion with gold leads onto your smooth skin. What he imagines and what happened was way beyond his dreams. Even he has to admit maybe leaving you so long ago was a bad mistake. One he hopes to never do again.

With that, he decided it was the time of being a fool, and once again the man the king loves to hear you say he is.

“My love stopped what you are doing and looked at me. I have something far more important than that” he said taking your tiny hands into his. You look at him with such awe and desire.

“I am not one to say such words or to admit such things. I grew up in this world alone feeling like I was more a burden than a child. With all this, I grew darker as tar. My heart was cold as ice. Even with that, you love me. Even when I’m thrown down and laughed at, you show over and over your loyalty. For so long I thought it didn’t matter. Hell-bent to not cave into their ways. But as I made my journey to that world my brother fell so in love with, I then realized my mistake. I thought if I can be a ruler of one world alone. Worried you won't see me as fit as your husband. Instead, I was lonely and felt deep into the darkness you are so gracious to help me from. I even miss the friendly banter I and my brother have a share. In all I’m sorry. You're not only my pet but my queen. And I hope you huh show you for the rest of my days” Loki said onto his knees pleading.

Coming close you place a gentle kiss him on the lips. Looking up with a huge smile. Finally hearing the words you've wanted to hear for centuries. Loki took your ring and moved it to the wedding finger and picked you up. Your arms wrap tight around his neck pepper kissing him giggling like a little child.

“Loki you silly slick snake. I made up my mind I was coming with you the second you step foot onto my land. This world has been lonely and parties are no fun without you. And I hate that sister of yours and would love to see her eyes as she takes her last breath. And while your dear brother is busy with her we can plan to take over. Once and for all. With you finally king and me by your side as queen. Now let me go so I can collect my prize from Thor. And we can be on our way” you said with a wicked grin on your face.

“YOU WHAT!”Loki said, stunned but also turned on by the trick you played on him.

Touching his cheeks she nodded yes.

“Thor and I had a bet. After he asks me to be a part of this club of yours revengers. He thought as a stubborn prince you would last longer and I said within the hour. I will always know you better than you do yourself” you said pitching him cheek a little.

Shock not only did you trick him but you got his brother enlisted as well with your plan.

“I can’t believe you got me. You naughty pet you. I should punish you for this or maybe I will reward you” Loki said.

Getting up you waltz across the room to the bathroom and turn, “Oh dear prince. Let us take care of this pest problem then you can do with me as you please.” You blow him a kiss and a flirtatious wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

He always thought his true home was Asgard but it was you.

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babi-correia · 5 years ago

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What Could Have Been (Part 13)

Words: 1655 Warnings: Poorly written medical stuff, mention and treatment of injuries, PTDS (kinda?)

When you come to, you’re having trouble breathing, and if that isn’t enough, the previous events rush to you all at once and your thoughts spin out of control. Suddenly, you’re not in a building in the middle of Chicago anymore; you can feel yourself being blinded by the scorching sun from Afghanistan, you can see the dust in the air, feel the sand under you.

“No, no, this isn’t happening.” You panic, feeling the searing pain on the right side of your hip. Your breathing picks up and your hands start shaking. “I’m in Chicago, I’m in Chicago, I’m not a Marine anymore, Deft Hawk is over.”

You repeat it to yourself like a mantra, shutting your eyes and feeling the tightness in your chest increasing.

“Get me out of here!” You manage to shriek, feeling a scratch in your throat. “For the love of everything, get me out!”

Jay looks at Kayla as she stops dead in her tracks, her ears perked up as she presses her nose to the floor.

“You got something there, girl?” He asks, giving her more lead as she moves around and starts whining. “Good girl! Can you find an entrance?”

He unlatches the leash as Kayla searches around, stopping by a displaced slab of concrete. He hears a faint voice coming from under the rubble and his heartrate picks up as he crouches.

“I got something here!” He calls out as he grabs the concrete slab and shoves it out of the way slightly, creating a tiny gap that exposes the hallway underneath.

The firefighters gather around him, someone calling out orders that Jay doesn’t listen; his mind rests solely on the fact that you’re probably down under the rubble, and he must find a way to get to you.

The firefighters join him in moving the concrete slab, opening the gap more and more until a person can go through. Before anyone can process what’s happening, Kayla jumps in and starts barking and running. Jay curses and thinks for a moment before jumping after her, ignoring the calls from the firefighters behind him.

“Halstead!” Severide calls out, making him look up. Jay sees him and Stella peeking into the hole, concern stamped on their face. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I heard her, and I’m not leaving her down here alone.” He says, his jaw clenched tight.

“Wait a bit.” Stella says, earning a confused look from Severide as she gets up and calls someone over. “Move back!”

A bag falls to the floor in front of him, and he recognizes it to be medical supplies.

“Look, we can’t send anyone else in there, it’s too unsafe. We’re going to secure everything the most we can and help you get her out, but for now you’re on your own.” Severide informs, looking glum. “That’s why you shouldn’t have jumped in.”

“I don’t care about that.” Jay says, picking up the bag from the floor and hearing Kayla bark in the next hallway over.

“I’m going to be on channel 3.” Will’s voice comes through before he peeks from the hole too, his red hair disheveled and sweat dotting his forehead. “Be careful, Jay.”

“Always.” He mutters, turning around and calling for Kayla. The dog comes to him and he clips the leash back on her vest before petting her. “Good girl, c’mon, let’s find her.”

The dog runs ahead of him, expertly dodging the debris and apparently following a pre-determined path. Jay slows down as he sees a firefighter’s helmet on the floor, the “3” in the front staring at him and making his heart skip a beat.

“C’mon Kayla, find her, c’mon.” He mutters to the dog, who looks back at him with big eyes and blinks. “You have to find her, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if you don’t.”

Kayla whines and moves forward, turning a sharp corner and pulling at the leash, making Jay follow her. His breath hitches in his throat once he turns the corner, seeing you laying on the floor with a metal rod stabbing through your stomach and a nasty gash on your right leg. He hooks Kayla’s leash around one of his belt hoops and rushes forward, kneeling by you and removing your SCBA mask, wincing at the amount of blood sticking to your face and his hand shooting to your neck after a pulse. He sighs in relief when he feels a steady heartbeat, switching the radio’s channel with his free hand before pressing down on the button.

“Will, are you there?” Jay asks, flicking the button to leave the radio open. “I found her, but there’s a lot of blood everywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she’s impaled by a metal rod, her face is bloody, and she has a pretty deep laceration on her right thigh.” Jay says, undoing the front of your turnout coat and cutting it free from the rod with a pair of scissors from the medical bag.

“Expose the wounds the most you can, stabilize the rod, and do a tourniquet on her leg. Then, you’re going to start an IV for plasma, you have it on your bag. If you need more, come back to the hole and we’ll drop some more bags in.” Will says, the strain in his voice letting Jay know he’s dealing with other patients as they speak. “Let me know when you’re about to start the IV so I can talk you through it.”

Jay puts on the disposable gloves and cuts away the shirt around the rod, exposing enough skin to let him look and stabilize it. He feels himself paling as he sees the exit point of the rod, his hands fumbling around the bag in search for tape and gauze. He quickly stabilizes the rod, watching as the gauze quickly becomes red with blood, but moving on to your leg.

He unlatches the suspenders in the front and gingerly sets them out of your shoulders, pointing upwards. Kayla lays down by your head and licks your hand, whining as you don’t respond.

“You did good, girl.” Jay reassures, carefully pulling the turnout pants down. He peels away the fabric of your regular pants and winces at the blood coming out. “Oh, that does not look good.”

“What’s going on?” Will asks, reminding Jay his radio is open.

“There is a lot, and I mean a lot of blood coming out of the gash on her leg.” He mutters, fishing the tourniquet out of the bag and tying it around the very top of your thigh. “I don’t know how many plasma bags you have here, but either Severide stabilizes this fast or it’s not going to be enough.”

“Stabilize her for now, then we’ll see how to proceed. Focus on the task at hand, Jay.”

Jay nods to himself, securing a big wad of gauze against the gash.

“I’m ready for the IV, Will.” Jay says, checking everything in the bag again. “What do I need?”

“Take a cannula with a 16-gauge needle. A cannula is a little plastic thing that looks like a cross. The needle’s color code should be gray.” Will instructs as Jay rummages through the bag, making a victory noise when he finds the materials. “There’s a vein that leads to her middle finger, find it. If you can’t find it, grab her wrist until her veins pop up more. Clean the injection site, disinfect a wider area to make sure the dressing will adhere to her skin and not the dust. Once that’s done, insert the needle right atop the vein.”

Jay takes a deep breath, getting a small square of gauze and alcohol and disinfecting most of your hand before searching for the vein. He finds it fairly easily, but his hands are shaking when he places the needle in place. He clenches his jaw as he pushes the needle in.

“Inserted the needle, now what?” Jay asks, unable to keep the shakiness out of his voice.

“Above all, stay calm. You see the green thing at the end of the needle? It’s the catheter, push it forward slightly. It’s normal for blood to come out, it means it’s in the right spot. After that, take off the needle and connect the cannula to the catheter.”

Jay does as instructed, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding when a small stream of blood comes out into the catheter. He removes the needle and inserts the cannula, grabbing some modified tape to secure it against the back of your hand.

“Done. Now what?”

“Get the plasma bag, place the bag somewhere above her and let it drip into the tube. Make sure there’s no air, and then connect it to the cannula.” Will says, his voice steadier than Jay feels himself. “You’re doing great. After that you can see if you can get her to regain consciousness.”

Jay sets up the plasma bag on a small ledge of concrete, watching as it drips down the tube. Once he makes sure there’s no air in the tube, he connects it and sighs, feeling a weight come off his shoulders.

He gently wipes some hair off your face, getting a gauze and dipping it in antiseptic, beginning to wipe most of the blood from your face when a loud crash makes the whole structure shake.

“What the fuck was that!?” Jay asks, getting silence for a while before the radio comes to life.

“Some part of the access you went in through came down.” Severide’s voice comes through. “Everything is very unstable and we’re doing the best we can, but clearly we can’t rush it or everything might crumble down.”

Jay lets out an irritated groan, sitting down on the floor as he looks at you and Kayla, the dog’s muzzle resting on your shoulder as she lazily licks your neck.

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hellowkatey · 4 years ago

Text

Febuwhump day 3

Prompt: imprisonment

Warnings: medical trauma

read on AO3!

A Long Way Down

Bright lights pass in quick variables, and it takes Obi-Wan a moment longer than it should to realize he's lying on a stretcher, oxygen mask strapped to his face and wires and cuffs on every available piece of skin. He groans, catching the attention of Commander Cody who is running beside the stretcher.

"Not to worry, General, we are almost at the med bay."

That is exactly why I am worried.

He reaches up slowly to pull the mask off his face as the stretcher slows, looking up at his Marshall Commander. "Cody... what happened?"

"An explosion, sir. Tunnel collapsed," he pauses. Cody already knows his follow up question. "The men are okay. You... Force-pushed them out of the way."

Well, that explains why my body feels like it has been crushed under a ton of rocks... supposedly it has.

Obi-Wan has no memory of this, but from the grim looks on the faces of all the troopers surrounding him he suspects he 1. doesn't look good and 2. is as bad as he looks.

"How bad?" he asks as they guide the stretcher into the med bay and stop it next to a bed.

Cody looks at Helix, the medical clone who seems to be trying hard not to make eye contact with him. With the penetrating stare of both his Commander and General, Helix finally looks up from the datapad.

"We're gonna have to dunk you, General."

He blinks, letting the words slowly settle into his discombobulated brain. Usually, he would protest. Make a fuss about being fine, because usually, he is, and medical can put their resources elsewhere. Usually, they would lock the doors as soon as he enters-- he glances over and yes, they did. What am I going to do, run? Obi-Wan is fairly sure both of his legs are crushed judging from the odd angles they are at, so he isn't sure how they expect him to make a break for it.

But today, Obi-Wan just lets his head fall back and he stares at the ceiling. He cannot protest because the tightness in his throat won't let him. He's afraid to open his mouth again because if he does his words will turn into sobs and his men do not deserve to see their General cry.

He can feel Cody and Helix's surprise. He doesn't have to look at them to know they are now even more concerned for him now that he hasn't tried to raise hell about being taken to medical. But they also seem to be relieved, so at least he can give them that respite.

He stares at the ceiling as movement begins to happen around him. Medical troopers pulling at the needles and sensors, inserting new ones. It all fades into a blur of hands touching him gently but firmly, frequent pinches and jolts of sharp pain, and the cool stickiness of applicators against his skin. Obi-Wan just stares at the ceiling.

He is fairly convinced that every medical facility has the same designer. Even the Jedi Halls of Healing have walls that are stark white. Sterile white. So bright they rival the glow of the iridescent lights, which is a design flaw in his opinion. Obi-Wan has spent a lot of time seeing these ceilings-- but not because he has spent a lot of time in medical. There is a reason he doesn't like to end up in the med bay, and the reason haunts him every time there is even a prospect of him having to go to see a healer.

Seven-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi had feet too big for his body. It's like he began to hit a spurt, but only his feet realized that growth was the plan and the rest of his body was still figuring out how to stretch his small stature a few inches taller. It gave him the unfortunate nickname of Oafy-Wan, coined by his age-mates who he didn't exactly consider his friends. His clumsiness wasn't horrible, but it was distinctive enough to cause him a bit of trouble when practicing lightsaber katas and doing his physical activity tests.

On this particular day, seven-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi had already had a very bad day. He fell in the middle of a practice spar in front of everyone. He wasn't even doing an acrobatic move or anything, he just fell over his own feet. The roar of “Oafy-Wan” was the only thing he could hear as he stared at the floor in shock of how quickly everything had transpired. Despite Bant's sympathetic reassurance and his other friends trying to overpower the chant, he spent the rest of the lesson trying to make himself as small as possible.

His pouting continued through the day, even to their long-awaited field trip to the Senate Rotunda. He walked with his creche mates, tuning out of their excited conversation of seeing the massive Galactic Senate chambers and instead focusing on the speeders rushing past just meters away from them. He wished to just jump into one and speed away from it all. Despite his prior excitement for this journey out of the Temple, he now wants nothing more than to go back to his dorm and curl up in his bed.

"Don't trip, Oafy-Wan," a familiar snide voice rings in his ear. He turns to see Bruck Chun, one of his age-mates that often leads the cause against him, sneering at him. "It's a long way down."

They're walking along a more narrow section of the street. Just a few meters to the left there is a deep chasm that goes into the lower depths of Coruscant. So deep he cannot see the bottom.

Obi-Wan brushes him away, in no mood to deal with him. "Get lost, Bruck." His arm presses into Bruck's side, pushing him away, which is not to the pleasure of his age-mate. Bruck's eyes narrow, and he jabs his elbow into Obi-Wan's back.

"Don't push me."

Anger surges in Obi-Wan's chest as he staggers forward. He whirls around and uses both hands to push Bruck into the wall of the building they are passing. A few initiates have stopped now to watch them, but as they stand at the back of the group the mass have not noticed their tussle.

"Funny, it seems I'm doing just that."

Bruck runs at him this time, his anger potent in the Force, and Obi-Wan suddenly has the clarity that maybe this isn't a good idea. He jumps out of the way of Bruck's charge, vaguely aware he is standing at the edge of the street now. Bruck skids to a stop.

"Coward," he spits, just as the Master leading their field trip calls for them to stop lagging.

Obi-Wan avoids Bruck's gaze as he passes by him, pointedly smacking his shoulder into his. Obi-Wan sighs, and turns to join the group.

As he turns, he finds himself suddenly caught in the air stream of a speeder that is too close to the sidewalk. He feels his small body lifted off the ground, and he flails in fear at the lack of anything for him to grab onto. A chorus of yelling erupts, most of them either calling his name or Master Vant. Obi-Wan can see the ground, and he tries to position his feet to land there, but another passing speeder sends him into a tailspin.

And Obi-Wan falls.

Even years later as a Jedi Master, Obi-Wan remembers falling down that speeder shaft. When he thinks about it he can hear the screams of his friends as they watched him fall. He can see them peering over the side. Master Vant running up and raising her hand to reach for him in the Force.

Had she reached him a moment earlier she probably could have saved him. But his downward momentum was suddenly ceased as he crashed against a speeder before she had the chance to cushion his descent. And he was met with horrendous pain and the taste of blood. Much like how he feels laying in the med bay now. Everything afterward was a blur.

"Are you ready, General?" Helix asks. Obi-Wan looks past him to see the bacta tank is all set up. Obi-Wan swallows hard, and he says nothing, but Helix takes that as a yes. His stretcher starts to float toward the tank, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the horrible memories come rushing back.

Choking. Obi-Wan expected to wake up in a reality beyond life-- he truly believed he would be returned to the Force, but instead, he woke up choking. He started to panic before he opened his eyes, and when he finally tried to find the reason for his restrictive breathing the initiate realized he can't see either.

He tries to thrash around, but his movements seem to be restricted somehow. Like he is tied up, but he can't feel bounds. His body just isn’t listening to him, which is even more terrifying. He tries to blink through the thick goo that seems to be covering his eyes, but it won't clear. It burns instead. He's trapped in a senseless prison, and he lets his panic radiate outward into the Force. He needs someone to hear him. Find him. Anything.

The Force responds with a collective feeling of shock. He repeats his plea for freedom, and finally, he hears something. Distant talking. Yelling, actually. Frantic. There is the deafening sound of suction, and then Obi-Wan is falling again. Slower than before but in his mind's eye he sees his friends staring down at him. Laughing at him. Oafy-Wan! They cackle. It's a long way down.

He hits the floor. The gel material that once encased him sloshes everywhere. His body curls into a ball and he feels many pairs of hands grabbing him and positioning him onto his back despite his protests. The touches are not comforting. Their goal seems to be to push him right back into the place he just escaped, and he begins to sob in terror. The voices are blending together as his vision begins to tunnel again.

"...sedative wasn't enough."

"How did he wake..."

"Get him back under!"

It was explained to him by one healer that his IV fell out of his arm. Another told him that the dosage was too light. A third said the adrenaline caused his metabolism to spike, making the correct dosage go quicker. Obi-Wan isn't sure why he woke up while in the bacta tank that day, but he suspects knowing the reason wouldn't have changed the panic he feels every time he has to take a dunk.

Obi-Wan grabs Helix's arm as he is about to inject his IV. The medic freezes and looks down at him.

"You have my correct doses from the Temple, correct? For the general anesthetic?"

Helix blinks before nodding. "Of course, General."

"And you know Jedi tend to metabolize quicker as well? You will have someone monitoring my consciousness?"

"Yes sir, we have detailed training from your healers on Jedi care. We will ensure you receive the right dose and don't get too much anesthetic."

He nods with wide eyes. His medic is slightly off in the reason for his inquiries, but it is comforting enough.

Even so, as the drugs begin to take him under he can't help but feel like he is seven again. Faded conversations of the medical troopers become the hushed words between Jedi Healers. The same fear of waking up within the tank again grips him with an iron fist around his already-intubated throat.

Never again could he look at a bacta tank and see it as an innovative medical advance. To Obi-Wan, it is a torturous prison that causes his fear to shamefully make an appearance.

He is positioned into the tank. The transperisteel doors close around him, and already he can feel his heart rate elevating. Why am I not asleep yet? Why am I still awake for this? Am I to do this conscious?

The bacta starts to fill at his feet slowly. He feels the urge to lift his legs and climb away from the rising gel, but his body has already separated from his mind. He cannot slam his fists against the doors and beg to be let free. Cannot scream with the tube down his throat.

As the bacta reaches his knees, he finally feels the heaviness reach his eyes, and Obi-Wan says a last plea to the Force to let him stay asleep for the entirety of his imprisonment.

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2021 #febuwhumpday3 #imprisonment #medical trauma #panic attacks #obi-wan kenobi #initiate obi-wan kenobi #i interpreted imprisonment very loosely as you can tell #star wars #ao3

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red-jaebyrd · 5 years ago

Text

Festering Wounds

Whumptober #16 - Hallucinations

He had finally made it back to the Cave, but something was off. Jason couldn’t quite place what was wrong, but something wasn’t right. All his senses were in high alert. He could feel his heart rate gradually start to increase and there was an odd pressure in his chest. His limbs also felt heavy and tingly.

The worst was the laughing, no cackling he could hear that no one else seemed bothered by. He scanned the Cave, but couldn’t find its source.

Jason tried to play it cool shaking off the symptoms as sleep deprivation. He just needed a cup of coffee, a few hours of sleep and he’d be right as rain. He stayed a few feet away from the group trying not to bring too much attention to himself, but the dog, Ace wouldn’t leave him alone. Ace kept following him and nosing Jason’s hands, so he obliged and kept his hand on the dog.

The family was chatting about the evening’s events, Tim was complaining about something Jason couldn’t be bothered to listen to and Dick kept asking him a question he could have sworn he had already answered.

Jason’s attention was pulled away from the group to a strange tall figure hiding in the shadows of the Cave. He could see the outline of green hair and a purple suit.

Fuck.

The figure stayed in the shadows, bringing a purple gloved hand to its mouth and it cackled. It walked into the light locking eyes with Jason. Jason gasped. Fear gripped his whole body he felt as if it had been plunged in ice.

“No, fuck no, you can’t be here.”

“What’d ya mean, Bird Boy? I never left.” Joker taunted, drumming the end of a crowbar against Jason’s temple to drive his point. “I live 24/7 in that moderately pretty screwed up head of yours.”

Joker was looming toward him patting the crowbar in his hands. Jason walked backwards and fell over his own feet. His heart pounded in his chest so hard it made it hard to breathe. He looked down to right himself and found that he was dressed in his old Robin uniform. This was so fucking wrong.

Fuck. He crab crawled away from Joker, but he wasn’t fast enough. Joker stopped him by putting a foot on chest and pressing down hard. It was a relatively easy hold Jason could get out of, but Joker was too strong. He couldn’t breathe. He was starting to lose consciousness.

It was the low chuckle that kept Jason from completely blacking out. Joker was standing over Jason twirling the crowbar in his hand like a psychotic cheerleader. Terror gripped Jason so tightly he couldn’t move.

“Batsy really scraped the bottom of the barrel when he picked you,” Joker insulted, holding the crowbar over his head ready to strike. “I guess he was hoping that street rat spunk counted for something.”

The hit across Jason’s chest sent a wave of pain throughout his body knocking the wind right out of him.

“You were ripe for the picking, my little angry bird.” Joker swung again, making contact with his stomach. “A pathetic charity case he could hand feed promises to, promises like becoming his Robin. And where did that get you?”

Joker drove his knee into Jason’s chest and leaned forward further invading his space.

“Six feet under in a pine box…and when you died, what did he do? The Bat-stard replaced you. He didn’t really care that much about you if just replaced you with the next door neighbor. You were expendable. ANOTHER SOLDIER IN HIS CRUSADE!”

Jason tried to tune him out, ignore the taunts, and not rise to the bait. But he couldn’t fight how the words wedged their way back into his heart corrupting what little confidence he had gained in himself.

“…and when I took you away from him, he did nothing. He didn’t avenge his precious Robin, did he? No. He believed that you killing me would be far worse than letting me live. You sure showed him…oh wait.” Joker laughed, a high pitch sound that sent Jason into a wave of panic. “You didn’t. CUZ I’M STILL HERE!”

One final hit of the crowbar across Jason’s cheek made it feel like his eye might explode.

“Do you know what you are, my little angry bird? You’re nothing but a festering wound, open and slowly rotting away. And you know what happens to festering wounds if they’re not treated? They get cut off permanently.”

The frightening giggles continued to echo in his ears, but the sound was soon replaced by a loud ticking noise of the bomb.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, not again.

Jason tried to get up and head to the bomb to defuse it, but his body wouldn’t respond. His limbs felt like lead and his head was swimming. Tears streamed down his face and his breath hitched in panic. In his nightmares he had always been able to crawl and make his way to the door, but this time he couldn’t even get up. He just lay there on the floor hearing the sounds of the ticking bomb reverberating in his head.

Bruce, help me please. Please come find me. Please come. I promise I’ll be better.

The ticking finally stopped. Jason closed his eyes in relief, but when he opened them he was in total darkness, which only meant one thing. He was back in the coffin.

He could feel his surroundings pressing in on him and he couldn’t breathe. The air was thick and he was running out of oxygen. Jason had to get out, but his arms wouldn’t cooperate. There was no strength left in them break free. Before he knew it dirt was crashing in on him crushing his chest and pressing hard on his face suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He was going to die all over again.

“Jason.”

Someone was calling his name.

“Jason, listen.”

He knew that voice.

“Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real.”

It sounded far away, but there was no mistaking it for anything else. It was Bruce. Bruce was here? He couldn’t see him, but he could hear him.

“You made it out, son. You’re safe.”

Jason blinked and when he opened his eyes everything was hazy. Once the fog in his brain cleared, he could see Bruce’s face.

Bruce came for him.

Jason relaxed at the familiar face in front of him. He was safe because his Dad came for him.

888

From the moment they had all gotten back to the Cave, Bruce knew something was wrong with Jason. He had been showing all the classic signs of Fear Toxin exposure. Jason had been unusually quiet. No snark or casual ribbing had been directed at Tim when he complained about one of Crane’s thugs getting a good hit in. No name calling had been directed at Dick when he had called him ‘Little Wing’, especially when Dick repeatedly kept asking Jason if he was okay. Jason just stood away from the group, eyes scanning the Cave nervously.

Everyone had dispersed as usual to the showers, changing rooms, and then upstairs. Dick had stayed behind to talk to Alfred.

Ace had noticed something was off with Jason as well. He whined a little and hung by Jason’s side until the young man noticed him. He kept nosing Jason’s hands until Jason placed a hand on his head.

Bruce had watched as Jason wandered off to a corner staring at nothing in particular. It wasn’t until Jason gasped and collapsed onto the floor, that Bruce’s suspicions were confirmed.

“Jay,” Dick shouted, running to catch Jason’s head before it hit the floor. “Jason, can you hear me?” Dick held Jason’s head in his lap. “Bruce, he’s trembling like a leaf and he’s all clammy.”

“He’s been exposed to fear toxin,” Bruce answered.

“What? How? He had his helmet on the whole time.”

Jason’s eyes were open wide with fright, but he remained perfectly still. Ace lay on top of Jason’s chest resting his big front paws on Jason’s shoulders. Ace wouldn’t move so Alfred worked around the dog to get Jason’s vitals.

“His pulse is erratic, but not in danger, not yet. Master Dick, keep talking to him,” Alfred said.

Jason didn’t appear to be thrashing or fighting to get up, but his throat was making low keening sounds and tears were running down his cheeks. Dick was doing his best to calm Jason telling him he was okay. Meanwhile, Jason’s breathing was shallow as he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Breathe, Jason. You’re okay. You’re in the Cave. Breathe for me.” Dick said calmly. “I don’t think he can hear me.”

Bruce knelt by Jason’s side taking his hand in his. “Jason, can you squeeze my hand?” No response.

“I don’t know how this happened, Bruce. I swear we all took precautions,” Dick explained. “We all had rebreathers on. Jason wasn’t even around when I caught Crane. He was with Duke and Cass stopping the distribution.”

Bruce rushed to find Jason’s helmet. He searched all over scanning for any damage. The filtration system looked intact from the inside, but as he felt over the outside of the helmet he felt a crack on the side along the cheek.

“Shit,” Bruce cursed.

“Vitals are still slightly above his baseline, Sir, but not dangerous,” Alfred said. “I’m more concerned with this breathing. Perhaps an antidote is in order?”

Bruce quickly injected Jason with an antidote, took a blood sample, and gave it to Tim so he could analyze this new strain of the toxin. None of the past toxins had ever caused paralysis. Crane typically liked to see his victims physically react and interact with their fears. If Bruce had to guess, it appeared this one was designed to mimic sleep paralysis.

A guttural sob escaped Jason’s lips as fresh tears streamed down his face.

Bruce’s heart shattered at hearing his son make such a sound. He carded his fingers through Jason’s sweaty fringe giving reassurances he wasn’t sure Jason could hear.

“Jaylad, it’s Bruce. You’re not there. You’re here with me, in the Cave.”

Jason’s whimpering echoed throughout the Cave. He was trying to say something, but the sounds weren’t making any sense. Bruce knew Jason was likely reliving his death all over again and worst of all waking up in his coffin. Jason never discussed what happened to him when he woke up in there, and Bruce regretted not giving Jason the opportunity to talk about it.

“You’re okay, Little Wing. Bruce and I got you,” Dick sniffed, wiping his eyes. “You’re with us in the Cave. You’re safe.”

Bruce held onto Jason’s hand rubbing his thumbs in circles along the back of it hoping the contact would help to calm his son down.

The words and touch were doing very little to help calm Jason. He showed no signs that he was even actually hearing Bruce and Dick or that he even knew where he was at present. Soon he started gasping for air, which quickly led to him hyperventilating.

Alfred promptly came by Bruce’s side with the portable oxygen tank and mask. He put the mask on Jason, but Jason started to panic at having something on his face.

“Jason. Jason, listen to me. Whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real,” Bruce said thickly. “You made it out, son. You’re safe.”

For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Jason responded to Bruce’s words. His eyes moved and briefly made contact with Bruce. Jason’s whole body slowly relaxed as he breathed in the offered oxygen. Jason’s eyes began to droop and before long he fell asleep.

888

Once Jason fell asleep, Bruce and Dick moved him upstairs to his room so he could wake up in familiar surroundings. Dick was reluctant to leave Jason’s side, but Bruce insisted and promised he’d get him as soon as Jason woke up.

Bruce stayed with Jason all night just watching him sleep. Watching the rise and fall of this son’s chest in what Bruce hoped was a dreamless sleep. It had been awhile since Bruce had stood watch over Jason all night. He had forgotten how young Jason looked when he slept. How the moonlight erased the harsh lines and scars of experiences and hardships making his son look twelve years old again.

Bruce drank in the peaceful moment and allowed his eyes to close in sleep.

He woke up a few hours later to a hand squeezing his wrist. Jason stared at him, blinking away the sleep as he tried to wake up.

“Morning, son.”

Jason kept his head on the pillow keeping his sleepy gaze on Bruce. “What happened?”

Bruce handed him a glass of water with a straw. “Fear toxin laced with a paralytic.”

“Son of bitch,” Jason hissed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked, gently sweeping Jason’s bangs from his face.

Jason took a few sips of the water and handed the glass back to Bruce. “I’m fine.”

Bruce didn’t believe him. Jason had a habit of hiding things, especially how bad he was feeling. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree in that department. Still, if this was something Bruce could help change for the better, he would do it, starting with himself and Jason.

Bruce set the glass down on the nightstand.

“Don’t look at me like that, Old Man.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“You’re giving me your furrowed brow of judgment. I’m fine.”

Leave it to Jason to choose sarcasm and snark to deflect from the pain.

I’m not judging, you. Let’s just call it my “furrowed brow of concern”.

“Whatever.”

A familiar tension fell between them that Bruce knew all too well. It always boiled down to miscommunication between them. Bruce would say the wrong thing or nothing at all. Jason would respond defensively in anger at Bruce. It was a vicious cycle. One Bruce hoped to break, but he had to be careful. Emotions were still so raw from last night; he didn’t want to fight with Jason. Bruce knew he was skating on thin ice with what he was about to say next.

Looking at his son’s face on the verge of tears, and trying desperately to hide any show of emotion, Bruce could see that Jason was far from fine.

“It’s okay if you’re not fine, because everything that you saw and experienced last night was not fine –,”

“Bruce, please stop,” Jason pleaded, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. ”I’m f-fine.”

Bruce wouldn’t stop. He had to keep going. He had to make Jason understand that it was safe to let his guard down; so he continued.

“Alright, but just know I’m here if you don’t want to be fine.”

Jason choked back sobs. He shook his head, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

Bruce moved from the armchair to the bed and sat down. He reached over and embraced Jason in his arms rubbing small circles on his back. Jason leaned into the hug and held on tightly crying into Bruce’s shoulder.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m here to listen when you do want to talk.”

Jason nodded into his shoulder.

He didn’t need Jason to tell him what the fear toxin made him see. Bruce had a fairly good guess of the trauma the toxin had made Jason relive while under its influence. Bruce had enough experience with fear toxin throughout the years to know that its sole purpose was to unearth deep rooted fears and existing trauma the victim may have ignored or worse, repressed.

It wasn’t a surprise that Jason had buried much of his trauma from the warehouse and the events that had followed. He avoided opening up to anyone about what happened to him just as much as Bruce had avoided talking about his grief over his parents’ death. But by not acknowledging the trauma and keeping it buried, it had fueled the flame to anger and resentment.

Jason needed to talk with someone, and so did Bruce for that matter.

“It doesn’t have to be me that you talk to, but you…we need to talk to someone, okay?”

“But...”

“No buts, Jay. This is important. I don’t want you turning out like me, burying fears and pain so deep you end up cutting yourself off from those who love you and want to help you. I want things to be better for you.

“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or next week, but it needs to be soon.”

Jason broke from the embrace, his eyes red rimmed and watery. “Will –will you come with me?”

Just like that, Jason sounded twelve years old again asking Bruce to hold his hand during a shot. Bruce melted at the simple request of his son still needing him. He placed a gentle kiss on Jason’s forehead.

“Of course, I love you, Jaylad.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

#whumptober2020 #no.16 #hallucinations #batman #fic #crowbar beating tw #fear toxin tw #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #batfic #fanfiction #dc

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crewhonk · 5 years ago

Text

Only Happy Accidents (13)

AN: Second last chapter!!!! How insane is this! Sorry for the late upload, the queue ate the original post rip. Anyways!

Summary: Steve and clan deal with the consequences of YN’s high risk emergency surgery and the birth of Steve’s son, Charlie

Warnings: Surgery complications, mentions of blood, Steve is afraid, Bucky is afraid and he has a little meltdown

“Uneven Odds”— Sleeping at Last / “Everything Changes”— Sara Bareilles / “The Story”— Sara Ramirez

Only Happy Accidents

_________________________

July 5th, one day post birth

Steve sat by the bed, staring. It’s all he could do, honestly. Charlie was asleep in the cradle a foot away (he slept with his mouth as far open as it could go— just like Steve did), and sleep was so far away he couldn’t even think about it. So, he stared.

YN was alive, but the tubes and wires connected to her body and going down her throat made her seem farther away than ever. Her hands were warm, sure, but she wasn’t breathing on her own, so what was the point, really.

Helen had found him crying over Charlie, and she’d sat down in the chair opposite him and told him that YN’s heart had stopped beating for a while during surgery— something about blood loss, and the lack of oxygen going to her brain for that extended period of time put her ability to wake up or even breathe on her own a slim possibility. Cho had taken him and Charlie down to YN’s room, and the tubes and wires were honest to god worse than the screaming and blood, because at least when she was in that amount of pain, his wife was still alive. Sovereign.

Steve had immediately asked if he could do something, and after getting his blood tested, found out he wasn’t a match for a blood transfusion— hoping that the enhancements in his blood would help YN heal. Even in all his super-enhanced glory, and with the enhancement created under the best of intentions, Steve still couldn’t save the people he loved the most— no matter what century it was, he couldn’t stop things like this from happening. So, Steve had cried like a damn baby as he held YN’s limp hand, begging and praying and compromising with the universe for her to wake up.

Charlie was the only thing stopping him from doing something dangerous— the cooing happy baby, unaware of the grief around him was a reminder for Steve that good things still existed. To think that Steve could ever hate something like this— something so good that he’d created made him sick to his stomach. When Steve wasn’t cradling the baby or hovering over the bassinet, he was at YN’s head, pushing the hair away from her face and glaring at the tubes and kissing her cheeks and knuckles.

Apparently, Bucky Barnes had taken enough pity on him after walking in on him crying for the fifth hour in a row and had pulled Helen aside, asking if he, possibly could get tested.

He was a match.

So, that’s how Busy Barnes found himself standing next to his godson and best friend, watching as his own blood— that created and given to him by such evil people for such evil purposes as it saved the lives of the people he cared most about in this world.

His best friend.

His godson.

YN Rogers, who had brought so much fullness to everyone she touched— she reminded him so much of Rebecca it tore his heart in half some times.

And he waited with the Rogers family, holding Charlie when Steve was too distraught to hold him, and leaning into Natasha when he needed the support she gave him. She was taking it hard, too. Not being able to have children herself, and then watching a wonderful, peaceful pregnancy turn into something so traumatic had shaken her to her bones. Her bravery in this made Bucky admire her more than he ever had, and the ring in his pocket burned a hole through his skin down to his bones as more days passed.

As soon as Helen had injected the blood, her stats had increased gradually— not the dramatic, gasping romantic event he’d half been expecting, but as the hours went on, YN’s cheeks grew flushed with just a little more colour.

The room remained quiet into the following day. The sun rose slowly on the anxious family, and Steve squinted as the sunlight shone directly in his face. He’d fallen asleep with Charlie sprawled on his chest in the armchair next to YN’s head, and someone had thrown a clean blanket over them, keeping them warm as Charlie was kept in a comfortable snooze agains this fathers heart beat. Steve’s hand cradled the kids bum as he rubbed his back lightly and leaned his head back, shutting his eyes and listening to the constant heart rate beeping from the monitor beside him. She was still alive— that was nice. At some point, Bucky had put Charlie in the basinet so Steve could fall forward onto the bed and just rest his eyes for a few seconds.

“Steve—” A raspy, chalky, but all too familiar piped up from beside him, and his eyes flashed open as he jolted, almost forgetting the newborn in his arms before hugging him closer and staring at the woman in the bed.

She didn’t look as if she was awake. Her body hadn’t shifted, and her eyes were still shut peacefully, but the breathing tube was nowhere to be found so either YN was dead and her ghost had come to haunt him or—

“YN?” He whispered, leaning towards the bed and staring hard, begging the Gods again to just stop playing with him.

“You’re yelling, you know.” She whispered back, cracking her eye open at him.

“How long have you—“ Steve whimpered, standing and leaning over her, tracing his eyes over her features— she looked good.

“A few minutes. You looked like shit so I figured you could use the beauty sleep.” She teased and he let out a sound halfway through a cry and laugh before he ducked down and kissed her breathless. He knew she felt just as relieved to have her eyes open by the speed of the heart monitor— it beeped quicker than it had today, and the thought of her alive and well and responding had tears wetting his cheeks.

“YN, baby. I thought you were— I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do if you didn’t—“ He choked out, tears falling onto her cheeks, which he kissed off quickly.

“Hey, don’t think about that, okay, baby? I’m alive and— wait, where is my baby?” She cut herself off, suddenly remembering that she was in fact a mother now. Steve smiled and kissed her nose once more, trailing his fingertips over her cheek and lips as he stood up. She kissed his fingertips and he flushed, pulling them away regretfully before turning around to the cradle and scooping a sleeping Charlie into his arms and walking over to his wife. He moved slowly, watching the adoration fill YN’s tired face as Charlie got closer.

Steve placed him on her chest, and her hand, delicate and hesitant rested on his back as if her touch would shatter him. Charlie stirred only slightly, burrowing his face into YN’s chest and wrapping his tiny fists into the fabric of YN’s hospital gown.

“This is our son, Charlie.” Steve whispered, throat tight with emotion as YN let out a dry sob. She ran her fingertips over his coned head lightly, the soft downy hair caressing her fingers.

“Charlie.” YN whispered, tears streaming down her face as she looked down at him. “He looks like you, Steve. And my dad, but there’s a lot of you in him.” She commented and he smiled, hand on her thigh as he stared at the scene in front of him. This— this is the only moment of his life he would ever want to remember. Somehow, despite how scared and angry he had been, everything— everything leading to this moment was worth it.

“I thought he looked like you. Wait until you see his eyes, baby.” Steve whispered, brushing the back of his knuckle across Charlie’s cheek.

YN looked up at him, eyes bright and shining and alive and she lips pulled into a tired smile. “Kiss me, Steve Rogers. Please, kiss me.”

And so he did. He sat on the bed next to her, and covered over his little, perfect family and kissed his perfect wife breathless.

“I love you, YN Rogers. I love you, I love you, I love you and thank you for surviving and coming back to me.” Steve whispered against her lips and she shuddered out a breath.

“Hey, you married me so you’re stuck with me for life, pal.” YN smiled, kissing him again rubbing her thumb across his cheekbone once she pulled away. He leaned into her touch, turning his face to litter her palm with kisses. The small family was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

Steve loved Dr. Cho. He really truly did, and he had all the respect int he world for her, but could he just have an hour without seeing her wearing that stupid damn poker face. There was a polite greeting as she looked over YN’s charts, nodding and humming to herself before she clipped the board back on the bottom of the bed and looked at the Rogers.

“So, YN, we should likely discuss the surgery.” And with a small nod, Cho continued. Steve shifted to take YN’s hand as she wrapped her free arm around Charlie who made a tiny squeaking noise before smacking his lips and falling back to sleep.

“So, the surgery was extensive, and did not go without trouble. Your heart stopped for longer than any of us would have liked, and it is because of Mr. Barnes that you’ve recovered so well.” She started and YN looked at her confused.

“Pardon?”

“Mr. Barnes donated his blood— he was a match for donation, and the serum he had been enhanced with kickstarted your recovery. Without it it’s unlikely you would have woken up with full brain function if you woke up at all.” She said, grimly and YN looked up at Steve quickly, watching him purse his lips and nod.

“I tried, but we weren’t a match. I couldn’t save you, I’m sorry.” He whispered, coughing when his voice cracked. YN, shocked with the news clutched his hand harder and nodded, turning back to Cho.

“There’s something else, isn’t there.”

“Usually, the placenta carrying the child would be set up higher int he uterus and away from he cervix. However, your own was lower— closer to your cervix, and had adhered to the uterine wall too deeply for it to release properly. Usually, this complication would have been detected in scans, but it was such a microscopic abnormality that we missed it, and during your contractions, your placenta detached too quickly which caused the bleeding and damage.” She said, and YN fell back against the bed. She clutched Charlie closer to her as a comfort and the feeling of his little fists tightening reassured her slightly.

“So what happens now?” YN whispered, not wanting to look at Steve for fear of him looking disapointed in her.

“Well, there was so much damage to your uterus that the chances of you becoming pregnant again are low, and if you did the pregnancy would be incredibly high risk. If you’d decided to carry on with the pregnancy, you would likely have to have a cesarian, and depending on the placement of the placenta, the entire uterus would need to come out.” Cho said, trying her best to keep her poker face.

YN’s chin wobbled at the news and her eyes grew hot as she flicked them up to the room, glaring at the ceiling with everything she had in her. Why would this have happened? Was it because fo the snap? Was it just her body’s inability to deal with things like this?

Before he let YN fully pull away and retreat into herself, Steve squeezed her hand and called her name. On the third repetition of her name, she looked at Steve and the tears finally fell from he corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered. “I know you wanted a big family but—“

“You stop that right now,” he demanded, voice strong despite the sinking feeling in his heart. “This is not your fault, okay? And I’d rather have a healthy, alive wife and a healthy, loved, spoiled little boy than anything else, okay?” He ducked his head, trying to catch her eyes again. Her beautiful eyes looked up at him again and he cooed, wiping her tears away with his fingers. “And if we decide we want another baby, we can adopt. Maybe we can even get a pet first— cause, you know. That’s something that couples usually do before they get married anyways.” He joked and YN snorted, wiping her eyes and nodding.

“Maybe a plant.”

“Maybe even a plant.” He confirmed and smiled, kissing her nose and playing his hand on Charlie’s little bum.

“I would also like to take you out on a date for once. No baby. Just me and you.” He offered and YN smiled, blushing lightly.

“Yeah, we kinda skipped out on that bit too, huh?” She smiled, and neither Steve nor YN noticed Cho leaving, noticing that her company was no longer wanted in this moment.

“Like a movie and dinner, and I take you home and kiss you on the doorstep.”

“We live together, Steve.”

“It’s the thought that counts.” He defended.

“I want flowers.” She said. “And chocolates. I wanna be wooed.”

Steve sat back and laughed, hand resting over his heart as he looked at her so fondly. “I married you and gave you a baby and you still need to be wooed?”

“No, but I like the way you get flustered when you try to flirt with me.” She wrinkled her nose at him and he rolled his eyes.

“I do not get flustered.”

“Okay, you big ol’ beefcake DILF. I’ll believe it when I see it.” YN teased, giggling when a blush crept up his neck at the nickname.

“I am not a DILF.” He hissed, smile on his lips.

“You’re my DILF.”

_______________

Charlie had latched onto YN’s nipple immediately, and soon enough, the soreness in her breasts diminished exponentially. She sighed and leaned back into the many pillows Steve had brought her once they found out she’d be in this room for the next week and under Cho’s careful eye. It was the first time YN had alone with her son, and frankly, she couldn’t wait to watch this little guy grow up into someone she could love relentlessly.

He had her eyes. It was simple and plain as the sun— her eyes lived on in Charlie, and seeing the exact mirror of herself in this creation which had lived in her stomach for nine months was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Holding this squirming, cooing little angel in her arms as he fed on her was the most satisfying thing she’d ever felt. She felt productive and accomplished, and peaceful as she ran her fingers over his body. Down his head and cheeks and over his back and bum, poking at his chubby little thighs and counting his toes and fingers over and over again.

She was scared she wouldn’t feel a maternal surge take over her body once she met Charlie— it was a common thing, apparently. She’d learned about it in the birthing classes she and Steve had gone to, as well as the couples therapy they’d gone to, but it was a weight off her chest to feel this much love for her little guy.

There was a knock at the door, and YN looked up to see Bucky walk in and upon seeing her breastfeeding averted his eyes.

“I can come back later if you—“

“Bucky come in.” YN smiled, feeling an incredible warmth of appreciation flood her body at the sight of this man. This man who had given her chances upon chances and who had walked her down the aisle and saved her life— she wouldn’t have anyone else as her sons godfather.

Bucky nodded, and placed the small bouquet of sunflowers he had brought her on the bedside table and sat in the armchair that Steve had made his home in. His eyes never left Charlie, smiling at him and how well he was feeding.

“God, he’s a strong little guy huh?” He hummed and YN nodded, looking down at him and sighing.

“I didn’t think he’d be so small, though. I thought he’d be way bigger considering how big my stomach was.” YN hummed, almost missing the swell of her stomach. She’d shrunk well, but her skin was loose and soft— something she’d have to train down once more with the provided trainers Cho recommended.

“You did have a huge bump.” He laughed and YN pretended to be offended. There was a period of silence before Bucky spoke again.

“Did Cho tell you?” He whispered, looking down at his hands and YN nodded.

“Thank you, Bucky. I know you weren’t the biggest fan of me in the beginning, but that was a very wonderful thing you did.” She responded, feeling regret at her words. No matter how much she praised Bucky and thanked him, he would never know just how damn grateful she was. “You’ve done so much for me these past few months, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

Bucky let a rush of air through his nose and he shook his head. “You take care of Charlie and Steve, and let them take care of you. That’s how you pay me back.” Bucky smiled a closed mouth smile and he went back to picking at his nails.

“What’s going on, Buck?” YN whispered, reaching towards him. He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again. “Buck, talk to me.”

“It’s just— I was enhanced with HYDRA’s serum. I was only allowed to save your with a serum hat killed so many people and caused so much pain and that’s not fair to you— you deserved so much more than—“

“James Buchanan Barnes you listen to me now and you listen closely.” She said, making her voice strong but remaining quiet as to not disrupt Charlie. “I don’t know how many people have told you this before, but I’m assuming you’ve heard it more than once. You are not the serum in your blood. You are not the things they made you do. You are the man in the stores Steve told me. You are the man who loves science, and space, and technology. You are a man who loves gun and knives and knows to treat them with respect. You are a man who is planning a proposal to the woman who he loves, and you are a man who carries the ring around waiting for the moment you feel she deserves. You are a man who watches. A man who looks out for the people in his life— for Steve, and Sam, and Natasha. You are the man who sacrifices himself for those he loves. That is the man I want to have as my child’s godfather because I believe that man is someone to look up to as a hero and an idol. James Barnes you are one of the most magnificent people I’ve ever had the true honour to meet.”

Bucky looked up, tears making his grey eyes shine, and he grabbed YN’s hand before pressing his head against it and letting out a sob. She let her hand glide through his hair, soothing him to the best of her ability as he cried into her mattress.

“You are worthy of the love you receive, James.” YN whispered and he nodded into the mattress, coughing out another sob before wiping his nose and eyes and looking at her with soft eyes.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” He whispered. “Thank you.”

“You’re my family now, it’s my job to tell you how everyone else feels.”

Bucky wiped his face again and sat back, sighing out a choppy breath. It was a while before his head shot up and stared hard at YN.

“How did you know I was planning that?” He asked, brows furrowed.

“Steve’s really bad at keeping secrets. You’re better off doing it sooner than later before he lets it slip to Nat.” YN shrugged, smiling as Bucky’s eyes widened and he shot up front he chair, rushing out of the room to find where Natasha and Steve had gone to, fearing that his best friend really was as ditzy as his wife claimed he was.

________________

July 13th

“We could so make it all the way down this ramp with me on the back of this wheelchair.” Steve joked as he pushed YN through the halls of the compound in her wheelchair, and YN threw her head back and laughed, slightly startling the baby in her arms.

“Steven Grant we will do no such thing with your child in my arms, do you understand.” YN scolded through her laughs and she could almost feel Steve’s smile behind her. Charlie had grown strong, and his eyes were brighter than ever as he stared up at his parents and listened to their happy sounds. He was swaddled tightly in a thin blanket, and was dressed in the softest light yellow onesie YN had ever felt. YN’s favourite part of the outfit Steve had chosen today, however, was the black and white beanie with cartoon zebras dancing around the rim of it. God, she’d done well.

“Yes ma’am.” He chortled, and the sliding doors opened in front of them, making YN gasp a large breath of fresh air. In this moment, she made a vow that she would spend more time outside. This past week of indoor solitude was enough to make her insane. She was excited to go home, though— the familiarity of her own home and the welcoming scents of her and Steve was something that made her eager to leave the compound.

Steve walked up to the range rover and scooped Charlie into his arms, stealing YN of her breath. It was an image she would never get over— the man of her dreams carrying their child and making Charlie look like the smaller thing in the whole wide world. Steve lifted Charlie up to his face and peppered light kisses all over his chubby cheeks, eliciting shrieking giggles from the child. Steve was the one to make Charlie laugh the most, and it made YN slightly jealous. Mostly happy, but what the heck? She carried the kid for nine months, why wasn’t she the favourite parent.

“Remember to have it tight! But not too tight because—“ YN watched as Steve put Charlie into the car seat, and he looked back at her, glaring slightly in amusement.

“I know how to strap the kid in, Sweetheart.” He chided and YN pursed her lips, watching Steve’s every move. Steve tucked Charlie into the seat with a blanket and pulled the carseat hood over him, encouraging the kid to take a nap in the car.

Steve shut the back door and turned to his wife, smiling down at her. Before she could move to stand herself, he curled his arms around her and scooping his arms around her as he lifted her bridal style. She squealed and cliched at him, making him laugh. He continued to hold her with one arm as he opened the passenger side door and placed her on the seat, cupping her face in his large hands and kissing her softly.

“How about we go home, huh?” He whispered against her lips and smiled and nodded, kissing him again slowly and tasting him. God, YN would never get over how damn lucky she got with him.

“I would very much love that. Can we stop at McDonalds though? I need to do something that Cho doesn’t approve of for once.”

______________

Later that same night, YN came out of the master bathroom wrapped in a towel to find the hottest thing she’d ever seen before.

Steve was sitting against the headboard shirtless, his slow even breaths telling her that he was asleep. His long eyelashes dusted over his cheeks, and his mouth was wide open, head lolling to the side. His wide shoulders were bare and the dark smattering of brown chest hair made YN’s mouth water. However, the hottest thing about this whole situation was the fact that Charlie was curled up on his chest, mouth open the same way and eyelashes mimicking his fathers. His ear was pressed flat against the left side of Steve’s chest, and had probably been lulled to sleep by the steady beat of Steve’s heart.

“Fuck.” YN cursed, dashing over to the best of her ability to grab her phone, taking several pictures for reasons. She threw her phone back on the bed and pulled on some underwear and a pad as well as one of Steve’s hoodies— the first time she’d actually managed to fit into one in months. It wasn’t long before she walked over to her boys, sitting next to Steve and using the long hair he’d grown from his eyes.

He hummed, furrowing his brows and closing him mouth, licking his lips and rolling his head to face YN. He opened his eyes slowly, and blinked in the light from the bedside table.

“Hey, beautiful.” She murmured and his cheeks darkened slightly.

“You stealin’ my lines now, Sugar?” He whispered, hands wrapping around Charlies body and hugging him tighter to his chest.

“They’re good lines.” She replied, wiggling her fingers around Charlie and scooping him to her chest. She stood slowly and bounced her way over to the cradle only two feet from Steve’s side of the bed. She lay him in gently and jumped slightly when Steve hands circled around her waist, hugging her to him as he rested his chin on her shoulder. The two stared down at this creation and swayed.

“What the hell do we do now?” He snorted and YN giggled, making him kiss her neck and cheek in pure happiness.

“I have no fucking idea.” She shook her head and reached up behind her, curling her hand into his hair and scratching his scalp almost making him purr in delight.

“How about we figure it out together, huh?” He replied and YN turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and standing on her tip toes to kiss his chin. He squeezed her upper ribs, careful of her incisions before guiding her to the bed and sitting her on it, cupping her face in his hands before bending over and capturing her lips in his in a heated kiss.

“We got time, don’t we.” YN mumbled against his mouth as she backed up on the bed, making room for him to crawl on her and cage her between his arms.

“We have so much time, baby. So much damn time to figure out anything we wanted.”

“You’re not tired of me yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Shithead.”

“Your favourite shithead.”

“Maybe so.”

_____________-

Tag List (send me an ask, ONLY. must interact with the fic more than a like): yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose / laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot/ vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema / mmyepic / multifandommandy / tommyhoe / lostdarksoul6 / crist1216 / taeeemin / jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory / feelmyroarrrr / teller258316 / mrsdeanwinchester19 / qrangr / mariswritingforfun / nerdypinupcrystal / kittycatlover18 / laucontrerasv / printedpeterparker / @dumblani / @captainomad / eversonaive / rainbowkisses31 / i-think-i-am-adorable / rainbowkisses31 / smalltintedgorl/ geeksareunique / jennmurawski13 / clutteredmind-emptythoughts / venezuelaanklemayonnaise / manuosorioh / stupendousshepherdloverpony

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers series #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #dad!steve rogers

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nibsthebravelostboy · 4 years ago

Text

Withdrawal

@hope-robinson @itslostgirlmisty

[Hope]

The more time that had passed Hope was starting to feel like she was missing something. Like she couldn’t function without it. She stood up and started pacing around before tugging on her hair harshly. She leaned against the wall as she wrapped her arms around her. “I need my medicine Zach. I need it.” She told him as she looked at him. “This was cute and I proved to you that I was listening but this isn’t funny anymore. I need my medicine.” She said scratching her arms as she slid down to the floor. “It’s way past time for me to take it. So please go get it.”

[Zach]

“Your parents should be here soon. I can’t let you go back on that medication Hope, I can’t.” He says as he walked over to her and helped hold her arms so that she would stop scratching at herself. “If you need to scratch something then scratch my arm. It’s okay, it won’t hurt me.” He tells her before hearing the door opening.

[Misty]

Misty walked into the room with Nibs and saw the blood on the floor and figured that was Jake’s. She looked over at Zach and Hope and frowned slightly at the two. “I’m going to call the guards to come and get her things. Should I tell them to take it to the safe house?” She asked Nibs softly.

[Nibs]

“I think that would be a good idea. The sooner the better.” He nods. “She would be safest there so yes she should go to the safe house.”

[Hope]

“Get the fuck off me Zach.” She said tugging on her arms as she tried to pull away from him. “Let me go. I wasn’t asking, I just want the medication. Please. I need it.”

[Zach]

Zach knew not to take any of this personally since she was going through withdrawal. “You know I can’t give it to you baby girl. I am sorry.”

[Misty]

“Okay I will be back, I will call them now.” She said before looking at Nibs. “Nibs do you want to come with me? Can you handle this?” She asked.

[Hope]

“You aren’t sorry Zach. Just let go of me.” She begged as she tugged on her arms. “I need it okay? I promise it will be the last time. Okay? Yeah, come on baby please. Please I need it.”

[Nibs]

“Yeah not it will be fine. I need to make sure she doesn’t try to leave until you are done.” He tells her before giving her a kiss.

[Zach]

“Hope you know I can’t give that to you. Even if it is one more time there will always be one more time. You need to fight this, I know you can.” He shook his head.

[Misty]

“Okay, I will be back then.” She told him before kissing him again and then leaving.

[Hope]

“Baby please. Come on it’s like you said hm? You let me take drugs and then I give you amazing sex. Don’t you want that? You said you missed me. So let’s just do that.”

[Zach]

Zach shook his head, “No, Hope we can’t be like we used to anymore, you know that. I do miss you but this is not the time for us to be giving into the temptation of that medication anymore.”

[Hope]

“You are a fucking asshole. Now you can’t do it? You didn’t have a problem before. It’s a fucking pill Zach. Stop fucking touching me.” She snapped as she pulled her arms away and moved away from him. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

[Zach]

“We were different people back then Hope and you know that. It’s not a fucking pill he gives it to you as if you were shooting heroin in your arms. Why else would you be touching your arms constantly if it wasn’t that? I know an addiction when I see one Hope and you know it.” He stopped her from walking past him.

[Hope]

“Stop fucking touching me.” She growled as she shoved Zach back enough to get him away from her. “You don’t know anything Zach. You weren’t fucking here. You left me here, so please do not act like you care about me. You wanted to leave. If you were so concerned about my addiction, you wouldn’t have threatened to leave.”

Hope turned to Nibs and moved over to him as she took his hand, her eyes turned blue as she let tears fall down her face. “Daddy please, let me out okay? I just need to take my medicine one more time. It makes me feel better and I just want the pain to stop okay? Please. It hurts so much and I just don’t want to feel it anymore. I promise I won’t do it again. Okay? You know I would never break a promise to you. So please daddy, just let me have it one more time. It’s just once.”

[Zach]

“I came and visited you whenever I could Hope and you know that. I didn’t just leave you here by yourself. I knew that by telling you I would leave you would choose to stay here and not give into the addiction Hope. I am concerned hence why I threatened to leave, to force you to make the decision that would help you.” He says.

[Nibs]

Hearing Hope’s words as she took his hand, it broke his heart to see her in such pain but he knew that he had to do what was best for her. When he held her hand, he absorbed her pain as he spoke to her. “I can’t do that darling. I know you have always kept your promises to me and I will do everything in my power to help you but I can’t give you that medication. It could have killed you Hope. I can’t let it do that to you. I am sorry.”

[Hope]

Hope snatched her hand away as she shook her head head, “I hate you. I hate both of you. I hate you both so much.” She cried as she scratched her arms more violently. “I just need the fucking medication. I shouldn’t have ever allowed you to come see me. I was doing fine away from all of you. I should have stayed alone.” She said moving to sit on the floor and brought her knees up to her. “I want you both to leave.” She cried.

[Zach]

Zach couldn’t lie when he could feel his heart drop at her words. This was a lot for him and for someone who hides their emotions, he didn’t know what to do. When he saw Nibs venomize her, he was about to question it but knew that Nibs was doing what was best for her and he was extremely worried too.

[Nibs]

Hearing Hope telling him that, he knew she was just in pain from the medication. “I am sorry baby girl but I need you to be stabilized until we can get you somewhere safe. Please forgive me.” He says before going down to her level and then biting her neck to inject some of his venom into her. “I will take it out once we get you somewhere safe. I can’t risk you running away like this princess.” Nibs says as he pulls back.

[Hope]

“Stop fucking talking to me!” She snapped at her father before feeling him biting into her neck. Her eyes flashed green before returning to normal. She heard his words and nodded silently.

[Nibs]

Seeing her nodding silently, Nibs couldn’t help but to break down. “I told myself I would never venomize someone. I would never venomize you but I can’t lose you Hope. Seeing you in this much pain I feel so helpless. I couldn’t save my first Hope and I can’t let that happen again.” He could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks as he spoke. His hands coming up to rub the tears from her eyes. “I am so sorry Hope. I am sorry I let you down.” His eyes turned blue as he looked at his daughter.

[Misty]

The guards walked into the room with Misty before she stopped and looked at Hope and Nibs. She saw the blood on Hope’s neck and knew what had happened. She moved over to Nibs and Hope and bent down to look at them. “Hey, Nibs it’s okay. It’s okay.” She said softly, wiping away his tears before kissing his cheek. “Why don’t you help Zach and the guards get Hope’s stuff hm? I got this.” She said to him before looking at Hope. “Let’s wrap up your arms sweetie. We don’t want you to get an infection.” She said smiling at Hope and helping her up. “Then we can go home.”

[Hope]

“Why are you crying daddy?” She asked Nibs before she heard her mother’s words before standing up with her. “Don’t cry daddy. I don’t like seeing you cry.” She told him as she wiped away his tears as well. “I just want to go home.” She told them before going with her mother to wrap up her arms.

[Zach]

Zach had never seen Nibs this emotional, in fact, he wasn’t even sure that the other was capable of doing that for anyone other than Misty obviously. But Hope was stable and that was what mattered to him. Hearing that they should gather up her things, he nodded his head and started instructing the guards of what to put where.

[Nibs]

He heard Misty’s words and didn’t let the guards look at him before he healed himself so it didn’t even look like he had cried and then stood up. Hearing Hope’s words, Nibs just threw on a smile and nodded his head. “Yeah, we can do that.” He tells Misty. “I will see you both there in a bit then.” He smiles before turning his attention to Zach. “Let’s get all this packed up.”

[Misty]

Misty saw Nibs’ smiling and frowned slightly before kissing him softly, “We can talk when you get there okay?” She said silently before nodding as she led Hope out of the room.

[Nibs]

Nibs kissed her back before nodding his head. “I will see you soon.” He smiles.

#hope #zach #misty

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dissonancedance · 6 years ago

Photo

“The barriers you’ve had to build to protect your mind have twisted you, driven you to kill who you could not control. Your executor is biding his time, but there isn’t enough of it for you to come into redemption on your own. We have to dissolve those barriers before your rehabilitation can begin.”

The second half of this chapter is under complete revision, but since the first half has been complete for this long, let’s consider this a half-update. Chapter 94 below the cut and available to read on Archive of Our Own.

Painting is Lieto fine di un martire by Nicola Samorì, 2015.

Simone could feel Vidar’s eyes on her even after she stepped outside of Aguiyi’s office, his stare coating her in the same dread and helplessness that kept her awake night after night, too afraid of the nightmares waiting in sleep. As she paced, she found herself rubbing her neck, absentmindedly soothing the memories of the pain and panic he had strangled into her too often for her body to forget. The hunger and hatred that burned in his stare reached under her skin no matter how she had steeled herself to face him again. Failure echoed with each tap of her sandals on the ancient stones until the creak of the door opening stopped her pacing.

Bisi’s veiled head peeked out into the hallway, her brow creasing in concern when Simone looked up at her.

“They are about to put him under,” the Igbo woman said. “Are you ready?”

The strangeness of that question snagged a rueful smile at the corners of Simone’s mouth as she answered, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The door at the back of the office opened to a sterile white space filled with gleaming medical instruments and monitors displaying a steady stream of data from the sensors attached to her uncle’s skin. It was a stark contrast to the stuffy old-world eclecticism that steeped the room before it, the lack of garish opulence a welcomed departure after months of being trapped in the ancient mansion. Simone had been here only twice before, both times to see the bodies of her uncles. She found it just as difficult to force herself to look towards the metal table, the memories of bloodless white skin still too fresh in her mind to quite believe that they were gone. Vidar’s pale chest still rose and fell with each breath that marked him as the last of her uncles still living, nearly whole but for what she had failed to allow him to keep. The hatred from his remaining eye had dulled under the drugs, but that singular stare did not fail to latch onto her as Aguiyi beckoned her closer.

“Vidar wishes to speak with you before we intubate him,” Aguiyi whispered, his leonine beard brushing her shoulder as he loomed closer to add, “It is only a request. You needn’t fulfill it if you don’t want to.”

Of the few things she could be certain of, she knew that Vidar did not request anything of her; he only ever demanded what he could not take for himself. With him lying there, nearly paralyzed by the drugs that were lulling his brain into a pliant stupor, he could no longer take. Once this was over, he would not take from her ever again. Simone chose to go to him.

The movement of the medical staff attending the equipment around them faded into the background as she drew closer until Vidar filled her focus. The eyepatch he was wearing was gone, leaving the scarred gnarl of sunken flesh bare. Between the grisly wound and the sapphire blue of his eye, she found the wound easier to look at as she stopped at his side.

“Come closer, sweetheart,” he rasped, barely above a whisper.

Apprehension roiled in her belly, making her body slow to respond as she stepped nearer and leaned down until his scent cut through the stench of antiseptics and sterile plastics. The reactive fear that accompanied his scent splashed over her in a cold wave froze her in place.

“You wanted to speak with me, uncle?” she asked, only a little breathy from the panic that clawed at her just beneath her control.

“There you are.” He smiled, showing off the sharp points of his eyeteeth at the edge of a snarl. “I just wanted to see your face one last time before you have me executed.”

“There isn’t…” she started, abruptly aware of how many people were trying not to appear as listening around them. Leaning lower, each inch to draw nearer to Vidar grating against her instincts, she spoke softly, “The barriers you’ve had to build to protect your mind have twisted you, driven you to kill who you could not control. Your executor is biding his time, but there isn’t enough of it for you to come into redemption on your own. We have to dissolve those barriers before your rehabilitation can begin.”

The unkind smile he wore drooped under the weight of suspicion and drug-induced fatigue, his words starting to slur as he drawled, “Who the fuck put you up to this bullshit?”

“I’m just trying to do right by our family’s legacy,” she answered. “Don’t be afraid, uncle. You’re not going to die here; we won’t let you.”

Noise buzzed and hummed through Vidar’s skull, rising from a muddled din until it collected into the sound of a voice. His head lolled, swaying with the room around him, as his eye failed to focus on the man in the wheelchair sitting across the table.

The noise mumbling out of the wheelchair man’s mouth shifted slowly towards language until he caught, “… year it is?”

Vidar frowned, or supposed he did. It was impossible to tell with how numb his face was, the numbness reaching into his mouth and rendering his tongue into a limp wad that he couldn’t figure out how to use. His answer tripped and fell flat on his too-thick tongue, managing a gargled grunt that seemed to satisfy the questioner by the way the wheelchair man wrote something down on his clipboard. Vidar watched the pen move over the paper, already having forgotten the question.

He closed his eye and opened it to darkness.

Weightlessness and silence permeated his perception. A hunger for stimulation rose from this vast nothingness in this dark space. He swallowed just to hear his esophagus click and feel it work, but the sensations were gone to the numbness as soon as they passed to leave him drifting. He could not move his hands to lift them to his face, he could not move at all. His heart raced as dread coated the aching nothingness that hollowed him, panic creeping in like ants swarming through the folds of his brain. The muscles in his body went rigid in resistance, locking his joints as he struggled to move even just a finger. He was locked inside the bleak nothing of his mind. Blood roaring in his skull, his veins bulging in thick ropes just under his skin, he tried to scream.

Relief came in the sharp sting pressed into the veins at his elbow, heat seeping through his blood until his awareness ebbed below the nothingness once more.

Hours melted into days marked by moments of vague awareness that blurred by too quickly for memory to catch. Clarity came in snapshots of insight, vague memories resurfacing to provide context to his surroundings only to dip beneath his mind’s reach a moment later. The man muttering and shuffling by in odd little steps with his head bowed low like a beaten dog was sometimes Dr. Wallace. The man in the wheelchair with his clipboard was sometimes Maier. The dark figure that occasionally watched from beyond a window was sometimes Dr. Aguiyi, sometimes he was just a demon. The pretty girl who leaned over him and whispered into his ear was only ever familiar.

“Your will is my voice, my word is your will,” she would speak into his ear as Dr. Wallace injected something into the tube running up his arm.

She turned his face to her, her hand so soft on his cheek and her silver eyes so gentle. He wanted to touch her, always starving to touch and be touched by her, but he could not move. A buzzing nothingness flooded his veins and stuffed his brain with fluff until there was no room to think, only to listen. She whispered sweetly, each word spoken so clearly and filling him with a sense of comfort, a sense of correctness. He listened as he was supposed to, only ever grateful for the hand on his cheek and the warmth in her attention.

“Follow my lead and live with purpose,” her soft tone would whisper, again and again, each syllable dripping into the emptiness with such lush and beautiful truth.

His body sang with delight and he wanted to cry out Yes, of course, but the words that gurgled up from his throat and skittered from his tongue were not words at all.

The gentle press of her thumb on his lips soothed his confusion; he did not need to speak if she did not ask it. Her hand slid down to cup his neck and delight swept any lingering regret at his ineptitude when he felt how his pulse nudged the tips of her thumb and forefinger. Tears of gratitude stung his eyes with every beat of his heart as hers to claim, every breath belonging to her as it left his parted lips. These things were all he had left to give and they were enough.

“The burden of self is too heavy to bear alone,” her quiet voice filled him until all he could do was listen. The room, the doctor watching them without ever directly looking at them, the smoldering glee from the demon on the other side of the glass, it all fell away in the distance as her voice wrapped around his mind like a soft blanket, warm and so very tight. “To live without the burden of a listless self is to be gifted with clear purpose. I am with you to bear your load and lead you to meaning.”

The comforting weight on his neck pressed down and his head swam with a tingling lightness.

Of course, he wanted to shout.

Of course he was her will. The nothing fogged up around him, thick and heavy, blotting out the light.

What a beautiful purpose to be given.

The lab dimmed until the room was lit only by the blinking sensors and dull computer monitors, but it was enough to cast a glimmer on the liquid Vidar floated in. Simone waited for her uncle’s breathing to even out in drug-induced sleep before pulling away from the sensory deprivation bath and wiping her hand on her dress. His periods of consciousness were becoming more frequent and thankfully brief, all the better to allow this stage of the conditioning to fill in the holes the drugs were drilling through his mind.

Witnessing how much of a person could be taken, reshaped, manufactured into something so horrifyingly false was too familiar. How much of herself Simone had seen in the reconstruction of his broken mind had shaken the ramshackle foundation of identity she had pieced to hold herself together. The map of scars they were carving into her uncle’s psyche were beginning to travel the same paths that marked her own distorted damage.

She let her gaze wander over his form, his skin having lost what little color it had over the three weeks in the windowless laboratory, almost translucent now to show the blue map of veins that constantly circulated the chemical regimen to reduce his mind to malleable mush. The feeding tube diet was fighting a losing battle on maintaining his mass, but there was healing. The unexpected swelling that had been putting pressure in the Broca’s area of his brain had gone down with the integration of broader steroids strong enough for him to consistently understand speech, though he had yet to be able to form coherent responses.

This was an outcome Dr. Wallace had dubbed tolerable as they moved forward with the procedure. So long as Vidar retained the capacity to comprehend what was said to him, her words could mold him into what he had to become.

There were many aspects of this experiment they had dubbed tolerable. Beyond the calm explanations of risk versus reward, the confidence of the team, the overwhelming buzz of anticipation in the research they were all so fascinated to partake, her old wounds reached up from beneath where she had buried them to sprout new pains. It all made her sick.

Her thumb traced the ridge of Vidar’s orbital bone, so pronounced without the structure of his eyeball to plump the thin skin around it, and let the ache in her chest whisper aloud, “Isn’t life so much simpler when your choices have been reduced?”

“Let him recover, Simone,” Aguiyi’s raspy baritone came tinny and flattened through the speaker in the wall separating them. Simone jerked as she turned, surprised to see the old man still at the observation window. “He needs rest to reconstruct his neural pathways.”

Her fingers curled into a fist behind her back as her lips curled into a smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping Papa occupied?”

The old man returned her smile with an amusement she did not share. “Leif has been quite adequate at keeping himself occupied lately. Have you noticed any changes in his behavior of late?”

“Don’t be coy, Doc. If you’ve got something to say to me, I’d appreciate if you’d please swallow or spit,” she frowned.

He laughed, the wheezing huffs grating her nerves until at last he said, “No, I would rather not be the one to face his wrath for spoiling the surprise. Go on and return to your quarters, girl. I think you’ll find him waiting for you.”

#Closing The Distance #update #fiction #horror #brainwashing #medical horror

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afoxymulder · 2 years ago

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Listening to it isn’t enough I need INXS’s Kiss the Dirt (Falling Down a Mountain) live at the Rocking Royals 1985 injected directly into my blood stream

#/music

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skzingitup · 3 years ago

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Listening to Pirates by Xdinary Heroes isn’t enough I need it injected into my blood stream 😭

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feufollets · 7 years ago

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Remember Me (Bucky x Female!Reader)

Summary: Unbeknownst to the world, James Buchanan Barnes had a wife before the war. A war nurse called to duty before he enlisted, captured with others by Hydra and is given experimental super serums. When she is finally rescued and goes back to Brooklyn, she comes home to an empty apartment with Bucky and Steve both gone. With extraordinary healing, she goes into hiding. 70 years later, two familiar faces show back up in her life. The reunion isn’t what she imagined it be.

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 6k

A/N; First fic!

Bucky’s eyes followed Y/N as she walked around the room checking if everything was ready for her departure tonight. Already dressed in her nurse uniform, she is ready to help those fighting for the country. Bucky, not so much. When she looks back at Bucky sitting on the couch, Bucky is looking up at her with his big blue eyes and a somber look on his face. When she reaches to touch the side of his face, he immediately gets up and wraps his arms around her tight, burying his face into her neck. She can hear that he’s sniffing her perfume, probably trying to remember it. Mmm, gardenias.

“Do you have to go?”

“There are men fighting for this country being taken apart and they need nurses to heal them.” She says.

“Ya know, they’re bringing nurses closer and closer to the front line, ya sure ya ready for that doll?”

With a determined look Y/N says, “As sure as ever.”

Bucky shakes his head, but smiles, “Always been a little crazy.”

She smiles at him and declares “Who else is gonna take care of Stevie when I’m gone?”

“Stevie can take care of himself!”, Steve shouts from behind Bucky on the couch,”besides, I’m jealous of ya Y/N, you’re gonna be fighting the war that they won’t let me.”

She peeks behind Bucky and says “Well who else is gonna take care of the dames while all the other men are away Stevie?” she winks at him. He looks down and blushes. Bucky gives him a small smirk and look back at Y/N.

“You come back to me, okay, you come back.” His face as serious as she has ever seen.

“Till the end of the line.” Stealing what she hears Steve and Bucky say all the time.

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

Later the night; Steve and Bucky watch as the ship disappears into the night. Steve looks up at Bucky and says “You’re gonna enlist aren’t you?”

“Damn right.”

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

The next couple of years Y/N will relive in her nightmares for the rest of her eternal life. All the blood, all the deafening sounds, all the lives lost at her own hands. But, worse of all, the capture of her and the other nurses in her unit by Hydra. Strapped to metal tables being injected with some kind of blue liquid. She saw her fellow nurses die beside her until she was the only one left. She would make herself zone out to block out the pain of the torture they were putting her through. With this she did not realize that although they were hurting her, she was healing at a superhuman rate.

One faithful night, an explosion could be heard outside the room. “This is the end.” Y/N thought and she was okay with that if it meant an end to all of this.

As men burst into the room with American uniforms, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved. The men carried her out and they made their way to camp.

“How much more of this war we gotta fight?” She asks weakly from where she is laying down in the truck.

One the soldiers smiles down at her and says, “Haven’t you heard miss? The wars over, we’re going home.”

Y/N can’t help cry tears of joy at the thought of seeing her two boys soon enough.

But as soon as she gets home, something was wrong. She picked up a brown box on her doorstep and opened the door. It looked like no one had been there in years.

“This isn’t right.” She said to herself.

When she remembered the box that was left in front of her house, she took a better look at it and saw it was from the U.S. government.

Tears were already streaming down her face and she shook her head and muttered “No, no, no.”

As she opened the box, two uniforms were folded neatly on top of each other with a file of top stating James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers were MIA. She immediately fell to the ground with these overwhelming thoughts. She didn’t even know that her boys had enlisted to fight the war, and the Stevie looking back at her in the picture didn’t look like the Stevie she left behind. Sobs filled the room as she came to the realization that she was alone.

Years went by, Y/N tried to date others, but the dog tags she wore under her dress weighed heavy on her heart. One of the only meaningful things she had left of them. She didn’t even have a wedding ring because of how poor they were. Years went by when she came across her wedding picture. Tears started to blur her vision and her nose was already running. Oh how badly she wished they were both here by her side today, how badly she wished that she could be as happy was she was in the picture. Something caught her eye. She ran up to a mirror and compared herself to the picture. She hadn’t aged a day.

It had almost been 10 years since her and Bucky gotten married, they gotten married so young, they were just kids, she had gone to war and back and not a single wrinkle on her face to show that.

She started to breathe heavily, then tried to calm herself down. She tried to bring up memories of her imprisonment that she was burying down. She started to remember the serum and the torture. Then also started to remember how the pain did not last as long as she thought.

She grabbed a knife from the kitchen and went to the bathroom. She looked herself in the mirror and turned to the side and proceeded to slice her arm. It hurt, but just seconds after the wound started to close itself. She could not believe her eyes. She must have sliced herself 50 times before she stopped. She threw the knife across the room once she realized what this meant. As far as she knows, she’s going to live forever.

No one could know this. She packed up her things and bought the first bus ticket shown. She didn’t know where she was going and she didn’t care. She didn’t have any family, any husband, any friends, no one was going to miss her and that was what made this so much easier.

She was working as a nurse for a small Midwestern town no one has heard of. One day she noticed a tall woman following her around. She didn’t look like she was from the town and Y/N had never seen her before. All day Y/N tried her best to lose this woman. Just as she got home to her quaint little house after she thought she lost this mysterious woman, a light turned on in her house and the woman was standing just a few feet in front of her.

“Please don’t be alarmed,” an English accent escaped from her lips, “I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to recruit you.” Y/N gave her a perplexed look.

“My name is Peggy Carter, and I know about your special abilities and would like to recruit you for this agency I started called S.H.I.E.L.D..”

That’s how Y/N became a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and one of the best she might add. But it was Y/N’s deal to be an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D., to be kept in the shadows. Just a select few would know about Y/N and even less would know about her super healing. She arranged with Peggy that her death be faked for public records. Peggy was confused by this, but argued it was for the best, no one would notice anyway. The people at S.H.I.E.L.D. were the closest thing she had to family. Until they all got families of their own. She was forgotten again. The pain was too much. She worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. as long as she could, but all the fighting and the missions were taking a toll on her even if she had infinite healing. She notified Peggy that she would be retiring. Peggy started to protest, but Y/N argued that she was not happy, and in truth she never was going to be. But she had no choice, but to live. Peggy didn’t put up a fight anymore and told her if she needed anything, anything, that she would be a phone call away.

Y/N traveled the country, the world. A different name each place, a new look every year. She wasn’t traceable and that is how she liked it. She made sure to update Peggy as often as she could.

More years had passed, she was in the 21st century, just a few years from being a century herself. She was currently in Norway looking up at the Northern Lights. One of the few times in her life, she felt at peace. Like she wasn’t running from something, like she hadn’t left so many people behind, that if she was going to live forever, she was going to be okay.

She decided she needed some sun, so she headed back the U.S., previous passport, I.D.’s, documents burned before she left her hotel and a new identity in her back pocket.

It was fascinating to see the change in the America over the years. Now in an age of technology, everything digital around her. But call her old fashioned, she just could not keep up with all the new tech. A book in one hand and a latte in the other and jazz in her ears as she listened on headphones to a new album she had just downloaded on this iPod device she had just bought. It was a good day, until she saw everyone gathered in front of the T.V. in the café. They were making too much noise and ruining her mood. She packed up her stuff and grabbed her latte and started to head out. But when she passed the T.V., the sight made her drop her cup. Tears in her eyes and her hand covered her shocked mouth and she saw her Stevie fighting on screen. Bigger than what she remembered, but she couldn’t forget that face. That was her Stevie. But she couldn’t accept it. Her need to run away was stronger than ever. So she did. But this time she was running back home. Brooklyn.

It had changed drastically in the 60 some years she was last here, but it still felt like home. She got an apartment and immediately boarded herself up. How badly she wanted to see Stevie with her own eyes, but she couldn’t do that to him. She’s heard the stories, gone to the museums, read the comics, Captain America was a hero. She was some scraggly figure from his past. But without realizing it, she started to prepare a potential meeting with Mr. America himself. She dyed her hair back to the original color, bought clothes that fit the century and finally changed her name back to Y/N Barnes.

A couple years had gone by and she still couldn’t bring herself to meet him face to face. She still kept tabs on him though. Printing every article, watching every video and recording any news reports on him. She was proud of little Stevie.

One-day news sites were filled with reports of how the current S.H.I.E.L.D. director Nick Fury had been assassinated by the “Winter Soldier”. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The Winter Soldier was real. She used to tell new recruits about the Winter Soldier to scare them. He was just a bedtime story. Not anymore, she guessed.

All week she kept herself updated on the fight. When she came across a video that made her heart stop. A huge fight had broken out on the street, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Sam Wilson against the Winter Soldier. The video had been taken by a civilian hiding on the side of the street. It wasn’t the best, but she could see without a doubt, the unmasked Winter Soldier was her late husband James Buchanan Barnes.

Her lungs constricted, her eyes watered, and her hands shook as she saw her husband on screen. From what she could see in the video, Steve had the same reaction.

She screamed “NO!” at her phone screen as something exploded near Barnes and he disappeared. She dropped to her knees as she clutched her phone to her chest, right on top of Bucky and Steve’s dog tags she had kept all these years. She sobbed harder as it felt like she missed her chance to see her husband again. She must have watched the video hundreds of times. For just a glimpse of his face. But then she didn’t need to watch that video anymore as his face was plastered everywhere. “Captain America’s Best Friend Turned Hydra Villain” was everywhere she looked. Old pictures, new pictures surfaced. Some with her in them, but fortunately no one knew who she was.

So many times she would dress in her old S.H.I.E.L.D. combat suit and had every intention of finding Stevie and helping him find Bucky, but she chickened out hundreds of times. A couple more years have passed, S.H.I.E.L.D. had been disbanded as it was harboring Hydra in it the entire time, which she 100% saw that coming after they hired that Zola guy. Which is why she had her files burned after she left S.H.I.E.L.D.. Things were so much easier when everything was paper.

Y/N still kept tabs on every Captain America story that got released. She couldn’t help herself, at this point she was kind of a fan. Y/N also got in contact with Howard and Maria’s son and was surprised when he knew exactly who she was. Said something about how she was in his father’s special encrypted files. Dammit Howard. He obviously knew how to bypass all the security measures and got right to learning everything about her. Luckily he didn’t know about her past with Steve and Bucky. She was in talks with him of how get herself back into the game. She knew about the little fight he and Cap had, but decided not to bring it up. It took a lot of convincing on his part and a lot resisting on her part. But it was time, she was ready.

With the help of Tony, she was on her way to Wakanda. She had known the now king, then prince T’Challa since he was a boy. She was part of a team of nurses that were sent to help Wakanda after a natural disaster had hit then, sworn to secrecy about the hidden country. She had good word that both Steve and Bucky were hiding there.

Walking down the halls of his palace with the king himself she was always amazed by the beauty of the architecture. While walking down the hallway another pair of footsteps had joined us. She could see two huge figures making their way down the hall opposite of her and T’Challa. This was it. The moment she only dreamed of. She was finally going to be reunited with her boys.

She was about 10 feet in front of them when everyone stopped. Steve and Bucky finally got a good look to see who was with the king. She saw Steve’s eyes light up with recognition. A small smile couldn’t help emerge from her face. But Bucky’s eyes told a different story. Intrigued but not the same look Steve was giving.

“Ah Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, looks like she will be joined by another Barnes. This is Nurse Barnes, I have known her since I was a little boy, and she will be staying with us to help us fight this unworldly villain that has seemed to surface.” T’Challa stated.

As she looked at Steve to see tears were starting to form in his eyes while looking right at her and she couldn’t stop that it was happening to her as well. But Bucky just looked confused at the whole interaction.

T’Challa continued, “I was actually hoping she would be Mr. Barnes personal nurse while we are not fighting as he has just come out of cryogenic stasis and may need some medical help.”

“Yes, yes of course.” She said not really paying attention, but staring at the men in front of her. T’Challa knew about her whole history, he was someone she could trust, so he knew how important this meeting was to her. “How about I leave you three alone, to acquaint yourselves with each other.” He said with a small smile and brings his guards with him.

Steve is the first to move, with two giant hands on her cheeks bringing herself close to his face to see for himself.

“Is that really you?” Steve said with disbelief.

“Yeah, Stevie, it’s really me. Look at you, looks like you finally hit your growth spurt.” She both laugh.

“Even with this super serum running through my veins I still got this scar of my side from trying to save she getting beat up by the punk who felt me up on the street.” Y/N says tearful as she lifts up her shirt to show him the scar. He takes a look for himself and hugs her off the ground of spins her in the air. A cough from the side makes she guys stop.

This is it. The moment.

Steve sets her on the ground and she turns so she is facing Bucky. She takes in how he looks now 70 years since she last saw him. Longer hair, lines around his face that weren’t before, but still the same piercing blue eyes she fell in love with. The biggest addition, his metal arm. She can see some deep scars near the collar of his shirt and her heart clenches as she wishes she could have been there to help get through his torturous time at Hydra.

They both just stare at each before he raises his hand and says

“Hi, my names Bucky, nice to meet you.”

She pulls back her head in disbelief, her jaw drops and she can’t find her voice. He doesn’t remember who she is.

Bucky stands there awkwardly as he puts his hand down, obvious she isn’t going to shake it as she stands there in disbelief. She starts breathing heavily as it sets in that all this time she has been waiting to meet him, all the years she imagined this moment, the man that meant the most to her, doesn’t even recognize her.

Somewhere behind her Stevie says, “Buck, are you serious?”

She isn’t listening any more, she doesn’t want to start crying in front of him. She makes up some bullshit excuse that she needed to call someone to let them know she landed safely. She ran away from both them, aimlessly trying to find somewhere to collect her thoughts. She finds a random hallway that isn’t too lit up and throws herself against the wall and just starts sobbing. Harder than when she found out Bucky was dead, harder than when she found out he was alive. It felt like she couldn’t breathe, she feels like she’s about to pass out. She spends several minutes there trying to calm herself down to be presentable again.

Little did she know, Bucky had followed her and was silently listening to her just around the corner. He stood there for a few minutes before quietly walking away not wanting to be caught. His heart clenched the farther he walked, not knowing why he did not want to leave her alone and wanting to comfort her even though they had just met.

Later that night she was looking out a ceiling to floor window watching the night sky. Back during the war, she used to look up and wonder if her and Bucky were looking at the same collection of stars.

She heard faint footsteps and looked to her right. She was surprised to see Bucky standing there in a shirt and some sweatpants. She turned back looking at the sky, trying to keep a neutral face, willing the tears down to stay at bay.

As Bucky walks closer he tries to start a conversation. Softly, he says,

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” he chuckles after.

“Must be the time zone difference.” She says quite curtly.

“I couldn’t really sleep either.” Bucky says as he walks closer to her.

“Try a little lavender oil under the nose, it helps me.” She says not looking away from the window.

He nods, “You found my secret place.” She looks at him questioningly.

“This palace is huge, but there is one place that has the best view of stars, and you’re standing in it.” He points to her feet.

“Sorry, I’ll go back to my room,” she starts to say and turns to walk.

“No!” he says quite suddenly and it startles her a little bit.

“Sorry,” he says timidly “I wasn’t telling she to leave, I just, um, it doesn’t mean two people can’t be here.” He stumbles over his words as she stares at him. She silently nods and turns back toward the window.

It is silent for the next few minutes as they both stare at the stars. She tries not to dwell on the fact that she is standing next to her dead husband. She takes her eyes off the stars for a quick second to glance at Bucky and she see him stealing a few glances at her. Then she stares at him blatantly as he looks beautiful being illuminated by the moon. The next time he steals a glance he is surprised to see her are already staring at him. She sees him swallow before he asks,

“Umm, I didn’t get your name earlier, you kind of ran off earlier.” He avoids eye contact as he remembers following her and listening to her cry.

“Y/N.” she says simply.

“Beautiful name.”, he says turning to look at her again. She gives him a small smile and his heart warms at the sight of it. He then remembers that he wanted to ask her something,

“Oh, I was wondering if we were related somehow, you know, how we both have the last name and such.”

Her throat closes as he asks her the question, for the moments before she actually kind of forgot that he had no recollection of her at all. She turned back and looked at the stars, trying to calm down. Bucky sees her jaw clench and begins to wonder if he said anything wrong.

“No,” her voiced strained, “it was my late husband’s last name.”

“Oh.” He says softly. He catches the outline of the dog tags under her shirt.

“I hope he died a great man.” Bucky says not really knowing what to say.

She looks at him and try not to cry, looking at his eyes is quite hard, so she opts for his metal arm. Without thinking she grasps his bicep. He moves it away from her, she looks up back at him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he explains, “the arm is new and I’m still trying to get used it, it can be very strong.” He says shying away a little bit.

“It’s okay,” she says, Bucky looks perplexed, she continues “I was experimented on by Hydra when I was younger, it gave me regenerative properties.” She proceeds to pull out a knife from an ankle holster and cuts her hand. Right before their eyes her hand is healed with no mark.

She takes the same hand and returns it to its previous place on Bucky’s arm. He looks at her with shock in his face, but he doesn’t move, he’s entranced. Her hand moves along his metal arm, feeling the detailed work that went into it. She stops at the hand and grasps gently before letting go. Bucky longs for her touch again, he doesn’t remember the last time he was touched so tenderly. That touch so familiar, but he just can’t seem to remember it. When he looks at her, her arms are crossed over her chest looking at him too.

“I’m sorry you had to go through what you went through, you didn’t deserve any of it and shouldn’t be blamed for the actions you were made to do. I hope you know it will get better, with time. You have people around she who are willing to help, God knows I wish I had that when I was younger, just don’t give up James.” She says with a flat tone, little does he know if she were to open the bridges she would be on her knees, bringing him down with her sobbing apologies in his ear that she wasn’t there with him this whole time.

He’s speechless. Before he can think of anything to say, she turns and start to head back to her room. Bucky is left with his mind reeling looking up at the stars.

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

The next morning Steve and Bucky are trying to figure T’Challa’s computer system in the palace trying to find information on Y/N.

“Buck, Wakanda has the most advanced technology in the world, and I still have a flip phone, which I am being told is very out of date.” Steve says both he and Bucky sit in front of multiple monitors just trying to log in.

“We can figure this out Stevie, just believe in us.” Bucky has a look of determination as he tries to figure out this complicated situation. He presses one last button and says,

“I think I figured it out Stevie.” Bucky says proud of himself.

“You just turned it on Bucky.” Steve says deadpanned.

“Oh, I give up.” Bucky says defeated.

“Voice recognized. James Buchanan Barnes. Access granted.” An automated female voice fills the room and all the screens turn on.

Bucky gives a smug look to Stevie,

“Told you.” Bucky says. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Give me any information you have on Y/N Barnes.” Bucky commands the computer.

Stevie sits up, “Wait, that’s what were here for.”

He starts to panic on what Bucky might discover. Steve doesn’t think he’s ready for the truth.

“This is all the information there is on Y/N Barnes.” The computer states.

Not much pulls up on the screen. Just a few documents saying the she lives in Brooklyn and is school nurse in Queens.

“Oh look, she lives is Brooklyn.” Bucky tells Steve, but he’s too busy on trying to think of a way to destroy all the computers in the room.

“That’s so weird, T’Challa mentioned she was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, shouldn’t that pop up.” Bucky inquires to himself as Steve is looking for plugs to unplug.

“Damn wireless.” Steve mutters to himself.

“What.” “Nothing.” Bucky and Steve go back and forth.

“This computer has to have face recognition.”

Bucky demands to search for pictures with her face and the results are overwhelming. Very quickly he figures out that she haw been alive a very long time. Steve cannot do anything but stand back and watch as Bucky is surrounded by pictures of her. Her school pictures pop up, pictures in her nurses uniform from WWII pop up, security camera footage of her all over world spanning over the century pop up. But front and center is the most important picture of all. The one that has Bucky out of his seat to get a closer look at it. The one that is having Steve trying to come up with an explanation, but then figuring out it is best if he just lets Bucky process all of this. It is their wedding picture. She in a simple white dress, and Bucky in his dad’s old suit and Steve right next to him with the biggest smile on his face looking at the both of you. What Bucky can’t believe is how happy he looks, how happy she looks. He didn’t think it was possible. What kills him the most is that he can’t remember any of it. He looks back at Steve, but he won’t look him in the eye. He makes his way out of the room and isn’t seen for the rest of the day. Steve isn’t worried, he can’t go far. So he spends the day with Y/N to catch up on the 70 years you guys have missed. He purposefully leaves out Bucky’s revelation that happened earlier that morning.

For the next few days, Bucky tries to work up the courage to talk to Y/N. But instead he hides in the shadows where he’s most comfortable. He watches her. He watches her cook, he watches her read, he watches her listen to music as she softly glides around the room. He just cannot believe the fact, that a woman like that is married to a man like him. He isn’t really sure if they are considered married still as he’s not really the same man he was when he was born and she was pronounced dead in ’53, but he sure hopes that they still are. Even if he can’t remember her and he tries so hard to, he wants to make it work somehow.

He is currently watching her read a book from T’Challa’s library. Sitting is a huge chair that almost swallows her up, she is sitting in it sideways so her legs dangle off the arm of the chair. He loves how cute she looks, knowing she probably has enough training to rip someone’s head off with her bare hands.

“If you want to talk to me, you can just approach me. I don’t bite, but I do stab. Hard.” Y/N says from her spot in the chair as Bucky looks away shamefully that he not only has been caught, but she has known about all the other times. He comes out of his hiding spot and sits in the matching chair positioned next to Y/N. He takes in a couple deeps breaths before speaking, but Y/N beats him to it.

“You know about our past don’t you?” She says to him as she puts the book down and is now sitting up and looking at him.

Bucky isn’t good with words, so he just nods.

“Stevie told me what happened,” she looks away and says, “I actually kind of wish you did.”

He swallows, but is still trying to figure out what to say.

When she looks back at him there are tears in her eyes. Bucky wants to reach out and wipe them away but he doesn’t know if he has the right to.

“It’s okay James. That you don’t remember me. It was stupid of me to have such high expectations. I don’t know why I even thought that we would somehow meet again. Somewhere is my heart I knew it was going to happen one day. What kind of fucked up world do we live where we’re both pronounced dead and decades later we find each other and we’ve barely aged. Somewhere in my twisted mind, it’s fate. That were both in this situation and we’ve found each other and now we get to live happily ever after. But that’s not what happened is it? No, you get brainwashed to the point where you don’t remember your own wife and I am going to have to live literally forever in my personal hell where no matter what I do I just won’t die!”

Bucky doesn’t want to think of the implications of that sentence.

“Don’t feel bad,” Y/N starts, “All of this is on me. You don’t have to worry about me or our past, and it doesn’t matter because you don’t remember it anyway.” She can’t help but sound bitter, she needs to get this all out now.

Bucky finally finds his voice.

“It doesn’t matter, none of it matters!” Bucky sounds panicked as he’s afraid Y/N has already made up her mind about not wanting to be with him.

“What flowers did you used to buy for me? What did my perfume smell like? What food do I hate, but always ate when you made it?” Y/N says through the tears and Bucky comes up blank, he can’t answer her.

“Those things matter to me Bucky! They matter!”, her voice cracks, “Our past matters, it’s what made use fall in love, why we belong together. If you can’t remember any of it, there’s no point to us. I don’t want you to fall in love with the me now, she’s a fraction of what I used to be and she doesn’t deserve your love.”

She’s made up her mind.

As Bucky tries to hold back his tears, he says, “Everyone deserved to be loved.”

Y/N just shakes her head and leaves the room and leaves Bucky alone. Neither of them sleep well that night.

------------------------------------------- Y/N wakes up the next morning, her eyes puffing and throat dry from all the crying. It is way past breakfast and she knows everyone is already awake doing their own things. So she will be all alone in the kitchen, how she wants to be.

She makes her way into the kitchen and gets her breakfast started. She is about to spoon eggs onto a plate when she sees a pair of legs in her periphery vision. When she looks up, she sees that Bucky standing at the end of the counter, just a few feet away from her. It looks like he hasn’t slept at all. He’s holding a journal and avoiding eye contact with her. He opens the journal and lets out a shaky breath.

“I used to get you roses from our downstairs neighbor Ms. Patt, she gave me the one that were too ugly to sell, but you loved them because they had character. You used to put them in your hair and try to get a complement out of Stevie every time, but he didn’t want to talk up a married woman.” Bucky states without looking up at the journal at all, his hands shake as he holds it up to read. Dammit, you’re crying again.

“Your perfume used to smell like gardenias and you hated green beans, but always finished your plate when I made them.” He closes the journal and finally looks up at her, he’s crying too.

“I thought I didn’t have memories of you, but I was wrong. I had dreams. I used to dream about you all the time. It’s what got me through the war, when I fell off the train, when Hydra captured me. Everything. When they put me on ice, I used to dream about you and our life before all of this. It was the only time I was at peace. And I hated, I hated, when they woke me up because they were taking my time away from you. Your face was always a bit blurry in my dreams, but I made the connection and figured out it was you.”

She cries and cries and very slowly makes her way closer to him.

Bucky looks down at his feet, his voice still shaky,

“I’m starting to remember things little by little, but I want to let you know I’m in no means the same man I was or will I ever be.”

She tries to get him to look at her, “Neither am I Bucky.”

He starts again,

“But that doesn’t mean we cannot be together, because it would be my honor to learn how to love you all over again.”

And when he finally looks up, she’s right there and she wraps her arms around his neck to hug him and never lets go. He does the same to her middle. He turns his head a little to smell her neck. Gardenias.

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes drabbles #bucky barnes au

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jaybeartodd · 7 years ago

Text

Colleagues Pt 13/17 -- Jason Todd x fem. reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, so much angst good grief

Word Count: 2138

Tags: @sarcasmismyfirstlove @tsctd @multi-fandom-dumpster @wordsmusicandchocolate @cattwomannn

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

“It is very nice to finally meet you Y/N,” Black Mask steps out from the shadows. You clench your teeth as the fear settles in. He paces in front of you with his hands clasped behind his back. “Never have we had someone so valuable in our presence.”

“Shocking, considering the warm welcome,” you say sarcastically and he turns his metallic face towards you. Your head jerks back at the coldness of his gaze. He smiles, amused at your reaction, and walks towards you.

“I see why he likes you,” he grabs your chin. You jerk against his icy touch but he squeezes tight enough to leave a bruise. With a sigh, he shoves your faces away and steps back.

“You see, your brother is even more terrible at making decisions than you are. Hence,” he throws his arms out, “why your family is in this situation in the first place.”

He pulls out a knife and points it tauntingly at you. “Why can’t your family follow simple instructions?”

“Why do you have such a tendency to hold on to grudges?” you ask and he laughs hauntingly making you shudder.

“Because my dear, without justice there is no order,” he places the knife under your chin making you stare into his lifeless eyes, “That’s what your beloved vigilantes say anyways.”

“Then get it over with. Just kill me!” You shout. “I am the one who disobeyed so punish me!”

He continues to smile at you and removes the knife from your throat.

“No dear it isn’t that simple,” he makes a gesture and two men walk out holding a shivering Trey. He looks at you with terrified watery eyes. You jerk against the ropes in fury.

“Let him go you bastards!” you scream and you feel Nick struggling against his own ropes behind you.

“Since this whole ordeal began with your brother’s terrible decision making, I thought it would be a clean ending to our story together with him making one final decision.“ he cuts the bonds from your hands and two of his goons grab you roughly. They drag you next to Trey while Mask turns Nick’s chair around so he is facing the entire situation.

“It’s going to be okay,” you say to Trey but his lip only trembles in response. Nick is looking at the two of you with absolute insanity in his eyes.

“Now Nick, who do you love more? Your sister,” Mask points at you and then Trey, “Or your son?”

Nick struggles against the bonds, “No, let them go!” His voice cracks in desperation.

You watch completely helpless as your brother crumples before you.

“Come on, Nick. We don’t have all day. And my friend is very curious.” At this Scarecrow emerges next to you holding a syringe. You turn away from him in horror.

Gathering your courage you speak up with a surprisingly steady voice, “It’s okay Nicky. Choose Trey,” you hold back the tears so Nick will know how serious you are. The tears instead stream down his face and he shakes his head.

“No help from the audience!” Mask yells and pulls a gun from one of his goons. You let out a yelp of pain when the bullet pierces your shoulder.

“Choose Nick! Or you all go down.” Mask turns the gun so that it is resting on Nick’s forehead. You give a shaky smile and nod your head.

“5, 4, 3, 2,” Mask looks at Nick but he remains tight-lipped in fear, “1.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream as a shot vibrates through the room.

“Damn it, Y/N. Pick up the friggin’ phone,” Jason grumbles punching the hang up button. He pockets the phone and turns on his earpiece in his helmet.

“I am going to check up on Y/N,” he says and revs the engine on his motorcycle.

“Let us know if you need anything,” Tim’s voice comes through.

“Will do Timbers.” He cuts through the winding streets towards your apartment growing more anxious by the second.

“It is probably fine, she might be in the shower or maybe she fell asleep.” a voice inside his head tries to calm his nerves. But he has been in this way too long to not assume his worst fears.

He pulls up to your building and relaxes slightly that it remains intact and not blown up or on fire etc. etc. Deciding not to scare the shit out of your neighbors by walking in his full get-up into the building, he opts to climb in through the fire escape. Yes, much less creepy Jason. He gets to your apartment and peers in but his vision is obscured by curtains. He knocks on the window but receives no answer.

“Alright Y/N, this is what you get for having a paranoid boyfriend,: he whispers before gently nudging the window open. He looks at it confused. “Note to self: make Y/N lock her damn windows. We literally live in the freaking crime capital of the world.”

He imagines that conversation with you turning it on him for breaking into your apartment. Followed with a quick remark about him being the one who runs around at night fighting criminals. You are the one always knocking him from any high horse he tries to mount. Damn, he is really falling for you.

At first glance there is no reason to think anything is out of the ordinary. Considering his current attire he decides to do silent recon to prevent outing himself to Nick.

His attention is brought to the front door where the pizza box from your dinner together lies. Seems like an odd place to put it. And he did not think you would waste the pizza you had obsessively talked about and then devoured in under 30 seconds. He bends down to pick it up when the notices a splatter in the corner of his eye. He walks towards it for a closer inspection and confirms his fears; a blood splatter.

“Shit, no, no, no,” he frantically walks to the bedroom door and flings it open to find it empty as well as the bathroom.

“She’s gone,” he says between gritted teeth into the earpiece as he strides towards the window.

“Wait, what? What is going on?” Dick asks being the ever-so-calm-and-caring of the batfamily. Which Jason usually has little tolerance for but that little bit was erased in this scenario.

“Y/N! She is fucking gone! They got her and Nick!” he yells frustrated and punches the wall. He should have stayed. He should have called earlier. He should have done SOMETHING.

“Listen, Red. You have got to stay calm and leave the walls alone that I am sure you are destroying. Is there anyway we can track them?’ He lifts his head as something occurs to him.

“Her phone. I-I gave her a phone she could use to call me,” he says with a bit of hope, “I am sending you the info now, Tim. Can you get me a location?”

“Yes, give me five minutes,” he says and Jason races to his bike.

“We will find her,” Bruce’s voice comes through the earpiece. Jason almost laughs at the irony.

“That’s what I said to her about Black Mask,” he mumbles.

“Got it,” Tim says lifting Jason’s spirits the slightest bit. With his heart racing, he pushes back the horrifying images of you in Black Mask‘s hands and guns it all the way there. Cutting the engine, he starts running towards the entrance when a hand smacks against his chest.

“Cool it, Red. We need to do some recon first so we aren’t just flying in there blind,” Dick whispers and Jason turns fiery eyes towards him.

“Cool it? Y/N and Nick are in there with Black Mask and whoever else decided to join the fucking Evil Gang of the Week, “Jason hisses. His guns burn hot in his holsters as his fingers itch to use them to eliminate any threat.

“Nightwing is right, We have to-” Batman is cut of fby a piercing scream coming from inside. Any inhibitions Jason had before completely disappear as his vision turns red with fury.

“Jason, no!” a voice faintly interjects but Jason pushes on and charges into the building. He kicks down the door and has his guns poised for the kill shot. When the dust clears, however, there are no goons in sight. But the source of the screaming is revealed and Jason stumbles towards your shaking body lying on the floor.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” a panicked voice yells grabbing your face between his hands.

“Jason! Th-they’re dead, Jay. They’re gone. He took them in front of me and there was nothing I-” you break as tears fall in heavy currents down your cheeks and sobs beat at your throat. The image remains vivid and unrelenting in your mind. Your brother and nephew taken from you.

“And now me too, Y/N,” Jason’s voice changes and you look up at him confused.

“W-what are you talking about Jay?” you ask shakily. He gives your favorite smirk causing you to let your guard down in the slightest bit. All of a sudden a gun appears behind him.

“Jason! NO!” but your scream is drowned out by the noise of a fatal shot completing the genocide of your loved ones in one fatal battle.

“No, no, no, no,” you repeat scratching at your head in agony. Your body begins to succumb to the fear and your vision darkens around the edges.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” Jason yells holding down your arms as you begin attacking your own face.

“She was injected with the fear toxin,“ a distraught Nick says from behind. He is currently holding a weeping Trey in his arms and staring horrified at your shaking and bleeding form. Jason’s blood runs cold knowing the effects of the fear toxin firsthand.

Jason’s eyes trail down to the blood soaking through your shirt on your right shoulder. He swallows back the emotion rising.

“I need a little help over here,” he yells hoarsely.

Dick slides in next to Jason and grabs your arms to hold you down. Jason rips off a piece of your shirt and ties it around your wound to staunch the bleeding.

“Robin and Red Robin, get Nick and Trey out of here,” Batman’s commanding voice booms through the turmoil, “Nightwing, you and I are going to follow Mask. Red Hood, you need to get Y/N to the cave for the antidote. Take the Batmobile and hurry.”

Jason frantically nods and your struggling turns into trembling as your strength exits your body. He swings you into his arms and takes you to the batmobile. Gently setting you in, he kisses your sweaty cheek.

“Y/N, come on Doll. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met,” he races over to the driver’s seat and takes one more look at your pale face stained with tears, “You can fight this.” His voice wavers with emotion and he steps down hard onto the gas.

“Haven’t I lost enough?!” he wants to scream at God but remains concentrated on the road towards the Batcave.

Jay jumps out of the car and grabs your now unconscious body while Alfred joins you two with a syringe.

“I have the antidote ready, Master Todd. Set her on this table,” Alfred says. He lies you down and strokes the strand from your face softly whispering your name to keep him from going mad. Alfred injects the serum and Jason holds his breath waiting for yours to follow. When the effects don’t immediately take effect and your breathing remains halted, he assumes the worst and feels the soul crushing weight of lost pizza dates or pointless banter or pride in himself for once for having such an amazing woman be a part of his life. Then your chest begins moving in sync with normal breathing pace and Jason exhales the breath in relief. He lets out a relieved laugh and places his head on your chest relishing in the sweet sound of a steady heartbeat.

Alfred then beings to pull out the materials to stitch your bullet wound and starts patching it up. Thankfully, the shot was clean with a clear exit and only needs stitches. Jay pulls up a chair and sits next you with your small hand in his.

“This time I really do promise, we will get him. And this,” he stares sadly at your sleeping face before falling into anger at what you had been through, “Will never ever happen again.” He kisses your hand and holds it to his forehead.

Alfred leaves the two of you like that with a feeling of melancholy and being all to aware that you are both way too young to have such familiarity with death.

#batman #BatFam #batman imagine #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #Red Hood X y/n #Jason Todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n

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