#that probably damaged my ankles more and is probably why i sprained them over and over. they probably struggled to heal properly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thetomorrowshow · 3 months ago

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Whumptober 19 - Blood Trail

title: washed up

fandom: hermitcraft smp

cw: blood and violence

It was his own fault, really. His own fault that he didn’t check the durability on his elytra, that he hadn’t bothered to enchant them with Mending. How was his laziness more pressing than Mending?

So Etho had tumbled out of the sky, drifting where he could on his damaged wings, until he managed to crash into a tree and fall through its branches, where he landed on the ground just at the edge of a forest.

Etho groaned, pushed himself up onto his knees. His face stung from the lash of the branches against his cheeks, his entire body sore from the impact against the ground. He might have broken his right wrist, caught under his body. It was already swelling up, his hand practically useless.

He wiped his other hand across his face, grimaced when it came away bloody. A quick look down showed he was bleeding from a multitude of different scrapes on his body, his clothes torn here and there. None of them looked serious, or even all that deep, so that could have been a lot worse.

A wrist and some scrapes wasn’t the end of the world, but the dull pain coming from his ankle told him that wasn’t all. He shifted to sit, tugged down the sock of his right foot to check it.

Yep, it looked about the same as his wrist, already swelling up. Maybe broken, maybe badly sprained—either way, he wasn’t walking out of there.

It wasn’t too bad, he supposed. He could be in a lot worse of a situation. Sure, night was falling, but if he messaged the main chat for help, someone would come get him.

<Etho> hey anybody on-world and awake

<Docm77> Hello

<Cubfan135> I never sleep

<Tango> so not bdubs? haha

<Etho> my elytra broke far away… ://

<Tango> oh etho

<Cubfan135> no mending?

<Etho> I haven’t gotten around to it

<Docm77> how far away are you?

<Etho> idk pretty far out

<Etho> [COORDINATES]

<Tango> oh dude that’s forever away

<Etho> yup

<Cubfan135> needing some help?

<Etho> well I think I broke my ankle

<Cubfan135> oh nooo

<Docm77> no potions?

<Etho> nope

<Cubfan135> suiting up now

<Docm77> omw

<Etho> thanks guys haha

Etho set his communicator down in the grass, dug through his satchel. He usually carried a couple of bandages, so he could at least wrap the ankle, get it some support.

He did find an ace bandage, thankfully. He set one end against his ankle, started looping it around the arch of his foot and the joint of his ankle. He moved with practiced efficiency, pinning the loose end and pulling his sock and his shoe back up over it.

He tested it carefully, putting a bit of weight on that foot. Not too bad, but nothing that he thought he could reliably walk on.

A groan sounded from the treeline, and Etho’s head jerked up, scanning the trees for movement. Had the sun already set enough for monsters to spawn?

He wouldn’t be able to wield a sword all that well. He last practiced left-handed combat . . . two or three years ago, probably, on a consistent schedule, he just hadn’t needed it in so long. . . .

“This is why you stay on top of your skills, Etho,” he told himself. Maybe he could construct some sort of shelter? Or—

Another groan from the forest. He’d never been that fond of building, so he didn’t tend to carry that kind of stuff on him. Especially not when he was just flying out to find some unexplored cave, his pockets as empty as they could be. Sure, he had torches, but that wouldn’t be enough to fend off a horde of zombies.

He passed over a village not too long ago, didn’t he? If he could find a large enough stick to lean on, maybe he could make his way back toward it. Surely it wouldn’t be too far of a trek—he remembered seeing it just before he crashed.

Etho glanced back at the forest, the most likely place to find a stick. No sun filtered out through the thick canopy of trees, the darkness much deeper than it ought to have been, even at this late hour.

Yeah. That probably wasn’t going to happen.

He had to lean on his sword, then, and hope that it was enough. Luckily, the ground was dry enough that the tip shouldn’t just sink into the earth. Etho counted that as a blessing and started off, adjusting his left-handed grip on the hilt after each step, trying to find what worked best.

It wasn’t all that helpful, to be honest. The sword was just too short to work the way he wanted it to, and he would have preferred it on his other side. Just his luck that he happened to break the wrist and ankle of the same side of his body.

He probably should have wrapped his wrist, too, but he wasn’t in the habit of carrying more than one ace bandage, and he didn’t really have time. His arm shoved into his sleeveless coat, held in place by the halfway-zipped zipper, would have to do.

He should message the others, let them know that he was moving and heading toward a town, but when he reached for his communicator at his belt, he found the holster empty.

Uh-oh.

Etho turned (slowly, too slowly), spotted his communicator on the ground where he’d left it, ten feet behind him, resting in the grass.

Come on.

“Okay,” he breathed, staring at it. How long had it taken him to walk those couple of steps? Not too long, surely, mere minutes, but minutes were everything at sundown.

Should he risk it? Grab his communicator, or keep making his way toward the village?

It was more important to be able to update his friends, probably.

He tightened his hold on his sword, started to hobble back to his communicator. He tried to keep his uneven footsteps quiet, careful not to disturb any monsters in the woods, but the grass underfoot was dry and crunched, and his gait wasn’t particularly suited for quiet at the moment.

He made it to his communicator, though, and puzzled for a moment with the concept of picking it up. He could bend forward if he put his weight on his sword, but he wouldn’t be able to pick it up with his free hand. Not to mention, when he attempted to bend over, his back shot through with stiffening pain—deep tissue bruises from his fall, no doubt.

Right. How was he meant to do this?

He could crouch, he supposed. On one leg, though? Well, his right leg might not take much weight, but it could at least steady him. He would have to put his sword into its sheath, unable to hold it and unwilling to drop it.

He fumbled with it, awkwardly trying to work his sword into the sheath with his left hand. He managed to slide it in, though, and was about to crouch when he heard the snapping of underbrush.

Etho looked up, eyes trained on the dark woods. He scanned them, back and forth, and quickly identified the source of the movement—a bush, right up at the edge, trembling as something pushed its way through—

A rotting hand shoved aside the last branch, and a zombie stumbled out, arms reaching toward Etho.

Now, Etho didn’t usually have any problems dispatching zombies. A quick stab and slash, maybe a running jump, and they were down. One of the easier monsters to handle, honestly. Far easier than creepers or skeletons.

But this zombie was . . . different.

Etho had seen zombie villagers before. He’d always shuddered at their twisted features, their not-quite-right noises. He’d killed those as well, if they were too far gone to be restored.

This one was, quite notably, not too far gone.

It was a farmer, once. Its wide-brimmed hat protected it from the last rays of the sun, its blood-stained overalls not thick enough to save it from whatever zombie bit it, blood staining the jean. Gloves hung from its belt, one almost entirely slipped out, just a finger pinning it in place.

It wasn’t quite a zombie, though, not yet. Sure, its skin was splotched with green, its mouth hanging open to show rotting teeth. Its eyes were completely clouded over with white, its fingernails cracked and blackened. But something about it screamed human, something in the way it checked right and left before lurching toward Etho, something in its repetitive swallowing of saliva instead of letting it all drip down its chin.

This was a freshly-turned zombie villager. Its reflexes were likely to be quicker, its bites stronger. Usually, Etho would turn the thing back, but as proved earlier, of course he didn’t think to bring an Ender chest with him.

He didn’t want to kill it, though. It was just a farmer, maybe still conscious enough to recognize that something was wrong, and he hated to condemn it to death for not being able to defend itself against a monster—not when he should have been able to help it.

Ah, well. He cared more about surviving this encounter than feeling bad for a zombie.

“Whoa there, buddy,” Etho said, hopping back a bit on his uninjured foot. His communicator remained on the ground as he tried to get his sword back out, sweaty fingers pulling fruitlessly on the handle. “If you want to just hang tight for a minute, my friends are on their way. They can turn you back.”

He didn’t think that the zombie could understand him, but there wasn’t any harm in trying.

His sword came free—

The zombie lunged—

Etho missed. Etho missed, and the zombie reached for him—he did his best to twist away, but his good foot slipped out from under him. He hit the ground and swung back blindly with his sword, pulling himself away on his bad arm. His wrist buckled under him and he gasped, pain surging through it.

Before he could properly turn around and defend himself, the zombie was on top of him. Etho writhed, tried to shove it off, but before he could get any leverage, it was biting down on his upper left arm.

A pained noise escaped his clenched teeth as he felt his flesh break under the zombie’s teeth, fire spreading from the bite. Involuntarily, his fingers released the sword, letting it clatter to the ground beside him. He shoved back, managing to dislodge the zombie—but a glance down showed several of the teeth still stuck in his bloody flesh. Etho rolled onto his back, scooted backwards as quickly as he could.

The zombie threw itself at him again, and Etho had nothing to defend himself with—

It bit into his chest this time, and Etho kicked and kicked and beat at its head with his fist, grimacing as its soft head gave way partially under the heel of his palm. White-hot pain burst from his chest as its jaw clamped down on him—Etho’s arms spasmed, but he just forced himself to breathe through it and kept trying to push the zombie away.

Without warning, his broken ankle erupted in pain. For a moment, he couldn’t make sense of it—the zombie was still on top of him, pulling away with a mouthful of flesh, blood dripping everywhere: how could it have grabbed his foot?

There was a hand wrapped around his bad ankle, and as the zombie pushed off of him, Etho saw it.

Another zombie villager, and this one was a teenage boy. It was a farmer as well, made clear by its jeans and straw hat, and Etho had a moment of staring at the two through tear-blurred eyes before he realized that they were probably father and son.

Then the son pulled, and Etho had a second realization.

He’d only seen this happen once. A villager reported missing from one of his villagers, that had been seen dragged away by multiple zombie villagers. Etho had ventured out in search and discovered an entire zombie villager family, feasting on the kidnapped villager.

These two were taking him to their family.

That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.

“Hey,” Etho gasped, trying to spot his communicator as they started to haltingly drag him toward the forest. “Hey, I don’t really appreciate this. I’ve got—things—”

There it was, glinting in the grass—he reached for it—

The farmer’s boot came down on it, the screen cracking and fizzing out.

Maybe it still worked?

Etho twisted around onto his stomach, gritting his teeth against the scream that tried to tear from his throat at the turn of his injured ankle. His efforts were wasted, anyhow; his communicator was already out of reach.

He kicked, grabbed the grass, tried his best to fight, but the father growled something like a warning and Etho let himself go limp. He just had to wait for an opportune moment.

They breached the treeline, and Etho groaned aloud when the branches and roots of the underbrush began to pull at his clothes, scraping his skin up even worse.

This was going to be fun.

“Uh-oh,” Cub said as they landed at the coordinates that Etho had sent. Doc made a noise of unease.

Before them was Etho’s communicator, a large crack splintering down the screen. His sword lay abandoned a couple of feet away.

More ominous than anything, however, was the clear sign of something heavy being dragged through the broken grass and into the woods, the trail dotted and smeared with darkness that shines in the light of Doc’s torch. Blood.

They looked at each other, a quick analysis of the situation passing between them.

No discussion was needed. They turned toward the forest and charged in.

Following the trail was easy—blood marred it, of course, but whatever had taken Etho had made sure to drag him through the worst of the underbrush, making a clear path all the way through. Cub kept one eye on the ground while Doc followed close behind, his mechanical eye whirring.

Then they heard a sound that chilled their very bones.

A scream, cut-off and choked, sounding from not too far within.

Without a word, Cub broke into a run. Doc followed right behind.

Etho was still pretty sure he could make it out of this alive.

They hadn’t reached the rest of the zombie family yet, and the two dragging him hadn’t shown any signs of tiring out, but Etho was just resourceful like that.

He’d managed to roll back onto his back (terrible for his elytra, which he just knew were getting as destroyed as his mask already was), and from there he had pulled his satchel onto his stomach and begun pawing through it, ignoring the quickly-failing mobility of his right arm and the pulsing pain and slow seeping of blood from his chest.

He had torches, a pickaxe repair kit, some basic redstone. Food. Some finer instruments for chiseling. Not much, but certainly enough.

His left-handed throw would be rough, but surely he could launch something at these guys. If he could catch the kid in the face with his chisel, it might loosen its grip enough for Etho to sit up, then swing the miniature sledgehammer at the leg of the father. That should shatter the bone, give Etho a moment to grab his pickaxe off his back and swing.

He grasped the chisel, rubbed it between his bloodstained fingers. He had this. He just needed to breathe, ignore all the pain, and. . . .

Before he could take aim, they broke into something of a clearing—still with heavy tree covering, but few obstructions.

Sitting in the clearing were three other zombie villagers: the farmer’s wife, a baby, and another son.

Oh, no. He’d better not have left this too late.

“I really don’t want to die,” Etho said, as casually as he can manage. “I know that’s kind of your thing, but—”

He threw.

That part worked, somehow. The boy dragging him let go as the chisel hit him square in the nose, stumbling back and covering his face.

The next part . . . didn’t. Etho tried to sit up, tried to swing the sledgehammer at the farmer, but his back seized up with all-encompassing pain, just as it had earlier. He was stuck on the ground, muscles jerking, he couldn’t sit up—

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Etho muttered frantically, doing anything he could to roll to his feet. He’d run on a broken ankle, he didn’t care anymore, but this was getting dangerous and he had to go.

He was too late, not even able to turn onto his stomach as the farmer’s hands closed around his right foot and twisted. Etho screamed, briefly, at the horrible jolt and drag of pain as he felt his bones crunching together—he shoved his forearm into his mouth to stifle the noise, tried to focus through his watering eyes.

He threw the sledgehammer—missed. Just his luck. And now the other zombies were stalking toward him, and the older son was back to it, reaching toward his other leg with his mouth open—

The father bit down on his foot, his teeth held at bay by Etho’s shoe. Etho jerked, tried and succeeded in kicking him in the teeth, despite the added pain to his ankle. The farmer dropped him, but the son had his other leg and bit down on his shin—it hurt, it hurt, and the little baby was crawling toward his face, green hands reaching for Etho’s eyes—

This was it. Etho was going to die here.

He had a good run, he supposed. Friends, laughs, some redstone contraptions. Looking back, he’d had more good times than bad times, and that had to mean something. He must have done something right, right?

He didn’t have the energy to fight anymore, but he didn’t give up. He still tried to get away, still struggled and kicked and flung out. He still shoved the baby away.

But his energy was flagging, and soon enough, he would be nothing more than zombie food. The farmer’s wife, bent over him, tore into his stomach—the other son was gnawing on his shoulder—this was definitely it—

He’d never been this bone-chillingly terrified before, it washed over him like a tropical storm, he was dying—

Etho didn’t hear the thud and twang of the crossbow firing, nor did he see the bullet land, but he did see the wife zombie stumble away from him, landing hard on its back. He watched it, confused, his left hand coming up to uselessly try to staunch the bleeding from the gouge in his stomach.

This time, he did hear the whistle of an arrow, which buried itself in the older son’s throat and sent him crumpling to the ground, dropping Etho’s leg.

Etho looked back, over his shoulder and to the left, and there—

Cub, Cub drawing another arrow, Doc tossing a crossbow to the side and coming forward, sword already drawn.

Etho could have cried.

They had come for him. They were going to get him out of here.

The other zombies were taken out with relative ease (though Doc did splash a weakness potion on the baby and led it away to give it a slice of golden apple), and Cub was at Etho’s side in mere moments, light touches cataloging each wound.

Cub’s face had never looked so beautiful. And Doc’s.

He was going to survive.

“Hey,” Etho rasped, trying to smile. “Took you long enough.”

“Dude,” Cub shook his head. “We can’t leave you for one second.”

“Yeah, I’m a noob.” He felt a bit lightheaded. Probably the blood loss. “Got any . . . uh, potions?”

Cub clicked his tongue. “Yeah, but we’re gonna want to clean these out before you have anything. Which ankle did you hurt?”

“Uh, the right one. My wrist, too.”

Cub examined them both, his frown growing deeper and deeper. “You’ll probably want to get these checked out by a real doctor, off-world. I don’t wanna give you a potion if it isn’t set properly.”

“Whatever,” Etho said, biting his lip to keep his teeth from chattering. Now that the danger was over, he couldn’t seem to stop shaking. He watched as Cub uncapped a bottle of disinfectant, pouring some onto a piece of cloth and beginning to wipe down the wounds—it stung, of course it stung, he knew it would. Etho tried not to make too much noise.

“No head trauma?” Doc asked, approaching. Etho hummed, still gritting his teeth against the sting of the disinfectant.

“Don’t think so,” he said. “Don’t even remember hitting it on the fall.”

Doc knelt beside his head, took his face between his hands—surprisingly gentle, considering the cold metal of one of them. Etho’s mask was ripped to shreds by now, but Doc still straightened it as he stared into Etho’s eyes, his mechanical eye flashing.

After a moment, he smiled. “You can sleep, Etho. We’ve got you.”

Honestly? Sleep sounded really good.

So Etho fell asleep.

When he woke up, he was home, wounds bandaged and a soft glow coming from the lamp at his bedside.

He was safe.

He closed his eyes again and let sleep take him.

#whumptober2024 #no.19 #blood trail #hermitcraft smp #fic #blood and violence #hermitcraft #ethoslab #hermitblr #hermitcraft fanfic #mas writes #not my proudest work i'll be honest #but i don't have time to edit it any further #final performance tonight!#also happy life series day!!!#lmk what you think #love you guys

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save-the-villainous-cat · 3 years ago

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Hi! Just started following, but I’m already obsessed. Your writing is amazing!

I’m sorry if this prompt has been given before since I’m new, but I was wondering if you could do a scenario where the villain is injured worse than ever before, and they have supervillain after them. They have no choice but to ask hero for help, but the villain is afraid hero will just lock them up or laugh at them for getting completely beat-up. But hero doesn’t do that and helps them instead, and now villain is having feelings.

Not every day could be a great day, the villain supposed.

This was definitely one of those days. Those days on which oversleeping came too naturally to them. On which their coffee orders would be completely messed up or on which they would just trip and fall easily.

Unfortunately, those days included also being shot, having a sprained ankle, a shattered wrist, an infinite amount of bruises and a few broken bones.

Overall, not great.

So, this seemed to be the worst part regarding to their physical conditioned, however what they were about to do was mentally draining. With the supervillain not even two blocks away, pissed, the villain couldn’t survive long on their own. It paid for once, to have an annoying nemesis living nearby.

The real question was, if the hero would actually help them.

“Hi,” the hero said carefully, fingers clawing the door after they had opened it. The villain didn’t even realise how they were still holding the doorhandle.

“Hey,” the villain answered. Their heart was beating in their throat, they were sweating like a pig and a hundred percent sure they looked even more criminal than usual. They needed to be smart, approachable, nice. The chances of being rejected were lower, then.

“I need a place to stay,” the villain choked out between gritted teeth, forcing a smile. They knew their grip was almost bending the metal of the hero’s doorhandle but they couldn’t stop it — they had to hold on or else, they feared the pain would take over. Their wounds were still bleeding, the blood still patiently running down their body as if it had all the time in the world. If the hero let them in, they could probably treat the wounds in their bathroom in an hour or so when the hero was asleep.

Because, the hero didn’t need to know that the villain had been shot. Twice. They wouldn’t even notice it. The villain’s outfit was completely waterproof.

“I didn’t know my house is a hotel…?” The villain’s head shot towards the hero, their eyes teary from the biting in their body. Their heart sank and their mind went back into survival mode, disappointed and hopeless. Almost sure this was a rejection, the villain sighed.

“Kidding!” The hero threw their hands up, laughing. “I’m totally kidding, come in.”

They made a great welcoming gesture as if the villain was a special guest who had been invited. It was impossible to bite back the relieved “oh,” but the villain managed to let out a short laugh right after, pretending everything was alright.

However, their nemesis wasn’t dumb. As soon as the villain set a foot into their house, they pressed the villain gently against the closed door. At first, the villain was too stunned to do anything; speak, move, breathe. Nothing escaped them but a heavy stare glued to their face.

“And now, you’re going to tell me who the fuck messed you up,” the hero whispered low, their face dangerously serious. Yes, the hero was intelligent but they didn’t know the amount of damage. The villain wanted to keep it that way.

“I’m fine.”

“Then, why the fuck are you bleeding all over my carpet?”

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thebluewritingbench · 4 years ago

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For dialogue prompts- surprise #10 and maybe some supercorp ?

surprise #10 from this prompt list:

“Christ! What happened to your eye?”

It’s the first thing Alex says to her when she makes it back to the DEO, which definitely means her eye looks worse than she thought, given the fact that she’s also limping and cradling a broken arm.

Kara leans against the wall, and presses her fingers gingerly to her cheekbone, wincing at the sharp stab of pain it sends directly up her eye socket and into her skull. There’s a good chance that her cheekbone is broken, and her eye is already swollen tightly enough that she can barely see out of it.

“Took on a bunch of superpowered aliens,” she says, swiping under her nose and looking at the blood that comes away on her knuckles. “Then I got punched in the face.”

“By what, a house?” Alex asks, incredulous. Her eyes widen in concern when Kara tries to take a step towards her and stumbles, and she hurries forward to grab Kara’s uninjured arm and steady her. “Okay, let’s get you to a solar lamp before you pass out.”

Alex sets her arm in silence, and then probes her ankle and declares it only sprained. She’s gently examining Kara’s swollen eye when she starts to speak again, and it’s only the slight tremor in her voice that tells Kara how angry she is.

“I didn’t find out you’d even gone anywhere until I heard you were injured. Kara, you always let me know when you’re going to do something dangerous. We’ve agreed on that before. I didn’t even hear from you over the comms.”

“I know, I know,” says Kara, closing her working eye. “I’m sorry, Alex, I didn’t mean to worry you, it was just…”

“Just?”

“Lena.”

“Lena?” Alex’s fingers freeze against her cheek. “What about Lena? What happened?”

The corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. It sends another wave of pain through her eye. “Oh, you know. The regular quarterly kidnapping-slash-assassination attempt. It was about Lex this time, I think. They were trying to use her as bait, though they clearly don’t know Lex if they think he’d risk anything for Lena’s life.”

Alex hums. “But you would,” she says softly.

Kara groans. “Rao, I shouldn’t have—I just got so angry. I know I should have called you, but I wasn’t thinking straight. You should have seen what they…I wanted to burn the whole place down. If J’onn hadn’t showed up when he did…”

“Shh, okay, it’s okay,” says Alex. “I know. Did you get Lena out?”

“Yes, I think so, I—” She swallows. “I think J’onn got her, could you go…?”

“I’ll go check,” Alex confirms. She brushes Kara’s hair back, lays a careful kiss on her forehead. “You try and sleep for a minute, okay? I’ll come back if anything important happens.”

“Okay,” Kara whispers.

She doesn’t actually intend to fall asleep, but apparently the exhaustion of the fight sits heavier on her than she thought, because the next thing she knows she’s being jolted awake by a whole lot of yelling. She tries to blink her still-swollen eye open, but it still feels like her eyelids are fused together, despite the improvement she can already feel from the sunlamps. There’s a crescendo in the yelling outside the door, and Kara makes out Lena’s voice in the chaos. She’s struggling to sit up before she can stop and think about it.

“I don’t care, I need to see her,” Lena is yelling as Kara limps to the door, and another low voice responds in a placating tone.

“No!” Lena shouts. “You don’t understand, it’s my fault she’s like this, I have to—”

“Lena?”

The conversation stops when Kara peeks her head around the door. Lena swallows, her eyes roaming Kara’s bruised face, the sling on her arm. Her face is pale, old mascara smudged into the circles under her eyes, her hair half pulled out of its updo, dried blood on her temple. She’s still wearing the same outfit she was kidnapped in, and there’s blood soaked into the sleeve of her shirt.

“You’re awake,” Lena whispers. “You’re—oh god, your eye.”

“It’s fine,” Kara says, wondering why everyone is so bothered by it. She nods at the DEO agent who Lena was fighting with, and he seems to accept this as a dismissal. “Nothing I haven’t had before. I’ll be fine by tomorrow, really.”

Alarmingly, Lena’s eyes fill with tears.

“Oh no,” Kara says, reaching for her arm. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry I didn’t get you out of there myself, I saw that J’onn had you and then I was just really angry and I wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine but I really shouldn’t have—”

“Kara,” says Lena. “I’m okay, really. Just a little shaken up, but I’ve had worse, I was just… god, I was just so worried about you.” Then she notices the way Kara shifts her weight to avoid aggravating her ankle (which is mostly better now, really), and immediately starts guiding her back to the bed. “No, you’re hurt, this is all my fault,” she says at Kara’s protest.

She refuses to continue the conversation until Kara’s set up under the sunlamp again. Lena sits in the chair beside her and brushes the hair from her face, running her thumb over the ridges of Kara’s knuckles. Kara lets her touch gently around the damaged eye, and then smooth her fingers over the rest of Kara’s face as though Kara will disappear if she stops.

“Don’t you usually get better faster than this?" Lena asks. "It’s just… your eye. I’ve never seen you like—you’re supposed to invulnerable,” she finishes in a whisper.

“It’s just a little swelling,” Kara says. “It barely hurts, Lena, really, I’m fine.”

“This is because of me. If you hadn’t been trying to save me, you wouldn’t be hurt.”

“If I hadn’t been trying to save you, you might be dead. This isn’t your fault.”

Lena buries her face in her hands. “When J’onn was carrying me out I saw—I saw when he hit you. With that entire support beam. I saw you go through the wall. I couldn’t stop screaming, they had to sedate me, I thought, I thought…”

“Hey, hey,” Kara says. “Invincible, remember? I’m just a tiny bit banged up, I’ve had way worse. I was more worried about you.”

“Me? I’m fine, I’m nothing, they just knocked me out and tied me to a chair for a couple hours, I didn’t get hit in the face by a metal post that probably weighed a metric ton.”

Kara feels the dying embers of her anger spark back up in her at those words, and for a moment she wants another chance at those aliens, wants to return fully charged and blast them into the stratosphere for causing Lena distress. But Lena still has her face hidden in her hands, and her shoulders are shivering a bit, and the instinct to hurt is quickly overridden by the instinct to soothe.

“Hey," says Kara. "You know how you can make it better?”

“How?” Lena lifts her face from her palms. Her eyes are slightly reddened, her makeup smudged, her face wearied. She’s breathtaking.

“Kiss it better. Works like magic. It’ll be better than the yellow sunlamps.”

The corners of Lena’s mouth upturn in a tiny smile. “Very cute.”

“Kiss me,” Kara whispers. “And I promise everything will be better in the morning.”

Lena leans in with a soft smile, her palm warm against the uninjured side of Kara’s face, and nudges their noses together. Her lips brush against Kara’s. “Okay,” she whispers.

#supercorp #supergirl #supercorp fic #supercorp fanfic #prompts #kara danvers #lena luthor #asks #anonymous #honestly I don't remember how the whole injury/healing process works for kara if this is blatantly wrong don't @ me #ty for the ask this was fun :)#my writing #bluewritingbench writes #bluewritingbench ficlets

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just-an-aussie-fandom-hermit · 5 years ago

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Some #Only in Gotham posts because I’m stressed and this is my coping mechanism

Guys guys guys

So I was in Central City today visiting some friends earlier this morning, and then the city gets attacked by these... aliens? Weird reptillian cryptids?? Who knows, but they were not happy nor friendly. We were all at this nice cafe just vibing in the outdoor area when this bipedal, green-gray reptile thing pops out of the manhole outside the cafe and goes absolutely feral. He was super close to my group so I grab my croc repellant (for non gothamites, its’ basically pepper spray but really bad-smelling to ward off croc if he ever shows up) out in an instant and I sprayed it right in the face.

Then I grabbed the nearest thing—some poor old guy’s metal walking frame—and whacked the reptile in the back of the head and it crumpled basically instantly.

And after the JL had stepped in to deal with the rest of them (not many, from what I’ve heard, but better safe than sorry I guess), heaps of people were freaking out about it because, well, this is Central City, they don’t get this kind of crime, they’re not prepared for this, yada yada.

Then that manhole pops up and everyone freaks out again because “oh god they’re back” but it’s just Batman dragging a bunch of tied up reptiles out of the sewers using some kind of winch set-up. It was almost comical—a daisy chain of reptiles being lifted out of this manhole in Central City by our favourite Goth Cryptid.

The cops were completely floored. The civilians didn’t know whether to be more scared of Bats or the reptiles. I mean, it was literally the middle of the day, and it’s rare to see Batman in daytime in Gotham but I guess this was an extenuating circumstance, so I guess I see why they were scared.

Batman just looks down at me standing over an unconscious reptilian holding the can of croc repellant and he’s just like “I’m guessing you’re from Gotham.”

I was like “yeah. Can’t escape the damn cryptids wherever I am.”

And tHEN he LAUGHS. Like, it was a small and quiet snort but it happened and I’m still shook. I have officially joined the “I made Batman laugh” squad. I can ascend peacefully now.

He seemed super embarrassed but asked if my friends and I were okay before he turned on his heel and stalked over to Flash and Woner Woman, a daisy-chain of reptiles in tow.

#lmao #onlyingotham #Batman #IMadeBatmanLaugh #ITookDownAReptileCryptid #GothamIsWeirdOkay #WeGottaBePreparedForAnything

———

I just heard this Metropolis guy try and trash Bruce Wayne to his friend at this diner and like five seperate people (myself included) turned around to roast the hell outta him. Like, yeah, he’s a billionaire, which is a whole can of worms I don’t wanna open right now, but he’s basically the only reason this city’s still standing and functioning (especially after the quakes and the no-man’s-land bs). His kids—most are poc and would not have thrived in the system—are all successful and work with their communities to better other people’s lives. Bruce Wayne is basically the only reason I got through high school (and am now in college); a scholarship is the only reason most of my friends have enough money to make rent. He “accidentally” spilled wine on Lex Luthor when he made a sexist remark. Also, didn’t it come out recently that he’s basically been funding the JL o at least is a major financial backer? An icon. You can shut your mouth, Jeremy.

One girl Instagram lived the whole exchange (she was filming beforehand I think) and it was magical.

Later on, Robin (the newest one, with the swords) shows up and he’s like “thank you for defending the honour of Mr Wayne”. I was like “kid,,,, you don’t need to thank me but you’re welcome”. he just kinda looks at me for a second and says “you eat free tonight” and chucks a bunch of dollar notes at me and disappears into the wilderness (ie. an alleyway). It was so surreal.

#GiveWayneABreak #BruceWayne #LetTheManLiveHisLife #GothamitesProtectTheirOwn #EvenTheBatkidsAreProtectiveOfHim

———

Yeah so....... I just saw some of Two-Face’s goons about to enter a bank, weapons drawn, and I’m scared because their boss is in Arkham, and the Rogues’ most loyal people always get antsy and trigger-happy when their bosses are off the board. I’d dialed 911 when I first saw them and ducked into an alley.

But then I see one of them stop dead in their tracks—Goon A we’ll call him—and says “hey, Wayne’s in there”.

Goon B: “Oh, we’re not meant to go after Wayne. Pack it in fellas.”

Goon C: “Huh? why not?”

Goon A: “Boss-man said so. Wayne used to be his best bud. Helped him campaign to be DA and stuff. Went to college together. Nice man.”

Goon B: “Got no problem wth that. Wayne’s the only reason my boys got through school. Besides, we mess with Wayne, the boss and Harley will be on our asses.”

Goon C: “Huh. Fair enough. We’ll go to the other location then.”

And then they just,,,, left.

#EvenTheRoguesWannaProtectHim #BruceWayne #HarveyDent #TheGuysGotCaughtAfter #IToldDetectiveMontoya #AndSheJustSighedForAReallyLongTime #OnlyInGotham #GothamIsWeird

———

Today I was in a Zoom call with some of my coworkers on the other side of the world, sitting in the kitchen facing the living room, when Red Robin comes crashing through my window. I just kinda turned around to see if he was badly injured (he wasn’t, couldn’t even see any blood) so I just continued on with what I was saying and he sheepishly left through the same window.

My coworkers are looking at me like “Jacob are you okay??” And I’m like, “yeah man, that was just Red Robin, he has unfortunate luck with windows. Soon enough one of the other Bats will come knocking with a replacement or a cash refund. Though, I should probably just invest in plexi-glass.”

One of my coworkers went on a bit of a rant about “vigilantes causing property damage and disrupting the peace” and i’m like “Mark I’d rather Batman crashing through my door or window once a month to getting buried in my twenties in his abscence,” and he was like “yeah, fair enough” so we just continued with our call.

After my call, Blonde Batgirl shows up and apologises for the window. I ask about plexi-glass and if Red Robin is alright.

She’s like “yeah he’s fine but he’s getting Bat-Lectured for being reckless which is why I’m here. Also from what Oracle can tell you should be able to get plex-glass installed within the week.”

#OnlyInGotham #GettingBatLecturedDoesNotSoundFun #ThanksOracle #BatmanDontBeTooHardOnTheKid #Gothamite #MeanwhileInGothamCity #GothamCity #RedRobin

———

So, Red Hood piggy-backed me up to my apartment yesterday because my heel broke when I was fleeing from these guys trying to mug me (or worse) and I sprained my ankle. He carried me up four flights of stairs and helped me get into my apartment and wrap my foot properly.

I told him to take some of my nana’s lasagna (because our local vigilante needs to keep his strength up! Man’s gotta eat, and from what I hear he’s not swimming in cash) and he got real quiet for a while before saying “yeah, sure”.

So he ate some lasagna while I called in sick to work (who were very understanding, surprisingly).

Then after a little while he’s like “bye” and jumps outta my window.

An icon.

#RedHood #OnyInGotham #WeStanALegend #IHopeYouLikedTheLasagna #MyNanaSaysSheWillMakeMoreForYou #GrowingUpInCrimeAlley

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typical-simplelove · 4 years ago

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Since We Were Three (J. Oleksiak)

Summary: What happens when you go work for the Dallas Stars and your childhood enemy plays for them, too?

A/n: Here is a fun enemies to lovers I wrote. This is the first time I've ever written for that trope, but I want to write more so buckle up! Enjoy this!!

Warnings: people doing things enemies do (sorry, that's really vague), mentions of sex, breaking/spraining ankles

Word Count: 12.1k

You didn’t expect to move to Dallas; it wasn’t even on your radar. All you really remember is sitting at your parents' house back home and you got an email from your Linkedin saying that there was a position open for something you were qualified for. You didn’t even bother to look at where it was; you opened the application, read the prerequisites, and filled it out. You were desperate to get a job, so it didn’t matter. Only after you emailed your application did you realize where it was - Dallas. It didn’t even register in your mind at the time that your former neighbor and lifelong enemy lives in Dallas or plays for the Dallas Stars, the organization you just sent an application for. They were looking for someone to work in their marketing department. If you knew that your former neighbor and lifetime enemy was working for the Dallas Stars, then you’d probably not have submitted the application. You decided, however, that the pros greatly outweighed the cons, and you doubted that you’d ever need to interact with the players unless they had a marketing issue. You doubt they would, right?

You got an email three days later asking for an interview. You emailed them back saying that you lived in Canada and weren’t sure if you could make it down for an interview. Thankfully, they said that they’d be willing to have a virtual interview; however, you’d have to be willing to move to Dallas for the job. You knew for a fact that you’d be more than willing to move to Dallas. That wasn’t the problem. So, you and the Dallas Stars’ representative set a time for your virtual meeting. You had the interview, and it seemed like they liked you. You got an email three days later that you got the job; you moved to Dallas three days after that and started four days later.

You completely forgot about the fact that your enemy slash former neighbor was in Dallas until your mother brought it up.

“Hey, yn, you know, you don’t not know anyone in Dallas.” You were confused. You literally moved to a country in which you knew no one.

“Mom, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jamie, remember him? Jamie Oleksiak. You hated him growing up. Well, remember, he plays for the Dallas Stars. You should contact him.”

The normal warmth in your face immediately drained. Yeah, now you remember. The only reason you had the slightest inkling as to what Jamie was up to was because your mother and his mother were good friends. You don’t care for him at all.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright and tell your mother “no”, so you pivoted. “Maybe,” you said and your mother seemed to think that meant that you’d be reaching out to Jamie. You weren’t. You were going to do everything in your power to try to avoid him. There was no way that someone who worked in marketing would ever come in contact with any of the players, right? You didn’t work in media that was in constant contact with the team, and you didn’t work in anything to do with the contracts or paychecks. As long as you keep a quiet profile, you expect you should be fine, right?

This worked for your first season working with Stars. You were new and a few years out of college, so your more experienced colleagues made sure to observe what you were doing. You were happy with this. Before working in Dallas, you only worked for one small company and you were one of two people in the marketing department. The reason you were looking for a new job was that this company went bankrupt. Yeah, you were grateful for the oversight you received. You made it one year without seeing, hearing, talking to, or being around Jamie. The fact that the two of you were in the same city made your blood boil. You hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being, and you hoped to avoid him as much as possible.

You went into the second season thinking that you’d have the ability to remain anonymous to the team and stay in your lane. This, unfortunately, did not work. You went to work on the morning that training camp started. You sat at your desk and noticed that everyone was quite angsty. You turned to a friend and asked what was going on. She told you that someone from management was coming to find people to work for the GM, specifically, someone in marketing. You knew that you’d be the last one selected considering your lack of experience. You were wrong.

The minute the representative from the GM’s offices walked in and saw your application, you were swept up and taken to their offices. Happy with the new promotion, you didn’t realize that you’d be closer to Jamie.

The notion hit you nine days after you were promoted when Tyler Seguin walked into the office and walked over to you.

“Yn, right?” he says and you nod. “We need someone to fill in with media personnel and they asked for you.”

“Oh!” you say; you had experience in media but not that much to get a recommendation.

“Yeah, they said to be there at 1:30pm.”

“Thanks,” you tell Tyler; he smiles at you and waves.

So you were going to be getting closer to the team than you thought.

. . .

As you walked down the hall towards the locker room, you ran right into the wall. Except it wasn’t a wall.

“Oh, you’re not a wall,” you say mostly to yourself. It was a very hard and firm person.

“So, you’re telling me you would have walked into me also if I were a wall?” You look up and see none other than Jamie Oleksiak looking back at you.

His beautiful eyes made you want to throw up. There was no word to express how much you hated him. Literally just staring at him for a second made you want to run away and scream.

“I, no, I just thought I had more time before I had to turn the corner.”

“Sure,” he says in a voice that makes you want to punch him; however, looking at him, you know it wouldn’t hurt at all and do the damage you wanted. Since when did he get so big? “Hey, Yn. I heard you started working for the Stars organization. Welcome to Dallas.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not my welcome party. And I’ve been in Dallas for almost a year.” You immediately back up but trip over your feet. Jamie instantly reaches out and helps you balance. You feel your face suddenly grow warm. Why did Jamie’s enormously large hands have this effect on you?

“You always were quite clumsy growing up. Tripping and falling for me, I mean in front of me.” Jamie’s joke didn’t go past you. It infuriated you. He liked to think that you were in love with him. You weren’t.

“You know, the only reason I kept on falling was because you kept tripping me. It’s your fault.” You storm away angrily and head to where you need to be.

Jamie smiles after you. “That’s the feistiness that I remember.”

You turn around and glare at him. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be fun.

. . .

You’ve hated Jamie Oleksiak since he tripped you in daycare when you were three years old. The first three years of your life, you didn’t mind Jamie. Your mothers were best friends, and you were both neighbors. Your parents were both ER surgeons and sometimes they had to go in for emergency surgery. This was one of those days. Your father was already working and your mother was called in for emergency surgery, so Jamie’s mother was going to pick you up from preschool. You put on your small, sparkly light purple backpack and followed Jamie and his mother out the door. The minute you were about to cross the parking lot, Jamie stuck his foot out and you tripped and fell on your face. You didn’t immediately feel the pain until Jamie’s mother helped you up and mentioned that your face was bleeding. You touched your face and began to cry. Jamie tripped you purposefully and now your face was bleeding. From that day forward, you hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being. How could someone who was supposed to be your friend and care for you purposefully hurt you? Where was the logic in that? Why could Jamie purposefully hurt you unless he didn’t like you? He must hate you to want to hurt you.

It wasn’t just because he tripped you; Jamie began to make your life miserable. From taunting you on the playground to tripping you all the time. It continued into kindergarten and elementary school. Middle school was terrible. He taunted you and made fun of you. He always found ways to make anything you were enthusiastic about a reason to taunt you. He joined clubs because you were in them and so he could bring his stupid with him who would the experience unenjoyable for you. You remember your parents telling you to ignore him and Jamie probably had a crush on you. He didn’t. He just out of nowhere opted to make your life miserable.

It only got worse in high school. As his popularity grew in high school as a result of hockey, he only became more cocky and unbearable. He always found a way to make you miserable. Whenever you had any remote crush or boyfriend, Jamie always swept in and ruined it for you. By the time you graduated and went to college, you were ready to leave the horrors that Jamie brought on to you. You were quite proud of the fact that despite your mothers being friends, you had no idea about anything to do with Jamie’s life. You went to college and built a life that was the exact opposite of the misery that Jamie brought into your life.

. . .

You walk into the locker room and Carrie, one of the other media execs, greets you. “Yn, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“We need you to fill in for a few weeks with our media team because one of the media personnel had to leave for a family emergency. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Carrie laughs. “It’s not too hard. You just have to take photos and videos of the team during warmups, practices, and stuff like that. If you know how to use Instagram, then you should be great.”

“Well, then, I think I should be good.”

“We’re going to give you a separate phone to use that you can just keep at your desk in the GM’s offices.”

“Perfect, that sounds great.” You and Carrie continue to talk and work out the little details about your new temporary position. You walked back to your desk in the GM’s offices with a smile on your face. You were happy to have this new position. At first, I didn’t recall to you that you’d have to be in contact with the team. When you heard Jamie’s voice echoing through the halls, your blood began to boil. You definitely weren’t looking forward to having to have to work with him.

. . .

The day after you got the word that you were filling in with the Media Department, you started right away. You were told to sit in the practice arena ready to take photos and videos of the team. As the practice was ending, Carrie asked you to head to the locker room and take one-minute interviews with the players. She gave you the list of players: Tyler Seguin, John Klingberg, Esa Lindell, Roope Hintz, and, much to your disappointment, Jamie Oleksiak. You sighed. You really didn’t want to have to talk to him, but you were going to be professional and try not to let him get to you.

You walk towards the locker room and Carrie tells you to wait a moment; the players aren’t ready. After fifteen minutes of small talk, you and Carrie walk into the locker room. The players that you and Carrie were going to interview were sitting on the bench waiting. You glance around the room and Jamie is looking at you with a curious eye.

“This is yn; she’s filling in for a few weeks as media personnel whilst Tristain is out with a family emergency,” Carrie explains. “Be nice to her please.”

Jamie meets your eye again and smirks. You roll your eyes and some of the players notice with confusion.

“Yn, why don’t you start with Tyler and I’ll start with John and we’ll work our way around?” Carrie explains.

You nod. You glance around the room and take note of who you’d be interviewing. You were going to be interviewing Jamie Oleksiak much to your disappointment. You get through the interview with Tyler, but he stops you before you can move on.

“What’s with you and Big Rig?” Tyler asks.

You smile at him trying to hide your disdain for your former friend. “Nothing, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Tyler laughs. “If you say so.”

You move on and interview Roope next. His interview made you giggle like a maniac behind the camera, and you didn’t notice the glares that Jamie gave his teammate and you.

You finish your interview with Roope and get ready to interview Jamie.

“Hi Jamie, ready for your interview?” you ask professionally.

“Yeah, I am,” he says in a tone that you can’t quite decipher but it’s already got your blood boiling. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“So, Jamie, tell me, what’s been the best part of the start of the new season?”

He puts a smirk on his face and you know exactly what he’s thinking - you’re not going to get an answer you like. “Uh, I’ve liked that I’ve been able to rekindle our companionship.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not what this is, and you have to give me a different answer.”

Jamie’s answer didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates and they were begging, no yearning, to ask more.

“Fine,” Jamie pauses briefly to think of another question. “I would say just being back with the team and skating with everyone again is probably the best part about the start of the new season.”

You nod and glance down at your list of questions. “What do you hope to get out of this new season?”

“Hopefully a Stanley Cup?” he says and quirks his eyebrows in a way that sends warmth to your face but also infuriates you. You nod in a sign of acknowledgment and Jamie can’t pass up the opportunity to get a rise out of you. “Maybe you, too.”

You instantly drop your notepad and glare up at him. What was his problem? Why was he like this? Jamie should know you hate him, so why does he suddenly think that you two were going to fix the hatred that’s been building for years? Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room. “Can you please stop? Just so you know, I hate you, so whatever fantasy you’re playing out in your mind? It’s not happening, Jamie. Can you please stop making it harder for me to do my job?”

Jamie smirks. He knows he should stop, but he won’t. “I always liked watching you get frustrated at me.”

“Jamie! Just cut it out!”

“Is everything okay over here?” Carrie says, trying to calm the situation.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Jamie’s just rehashing things from our childhoods.” You explain.

“Wait, you two know each other?” John asks comically.

Jamie nods. “Know is not quite it, but yes.”

“What does that mean?” John asks

“That means that Yn hates me.”

“You hate me too, Jamie; don’t just put this on me. You’ve only ever made my life more difficult throughout every part of it.”

“Yn, why don’t you interview Esa, and I’ll finish with Jamie, that good?” Carrie suggests

“Yes, that works,” you walk over to Esa and breathe out a sigh of relief. Yeah, you knew that this was exactly what was going to happen.

You finished your interview with Esa, and you and Carrie walked out of the locker room to prep the videos to be posted.

“Dude, what did you do to make her so angry at you?” Esa asks. “It seems like your mere presence pisses her off.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does,” Jamie admits. “I can’t remember why; all I remember is that one day we started hating each other.”

“I’d hate to be in your shoes,” Tyler tells his teammate. “A pretty girl hates you, and you very obviously like her.”

Jamie pales. He didn’t think it was that obvious to anyone, ever. “What?”

Everyone laughs.

“It’s obvious,” Roope agrees. “You like her. Just the way you looked at her and acted around her. You’ve got it bad.”

“No, I don’t,” Jamie grumbles.

“Dude, you were staring at her the entire time she was interviewing Roope. All the giggling made you jealous, didn’t it?” Esa states.

“I’m not jealous, and I don’t care. There is nothing but hate between us.” Jamie tries to defend himself. It’s useless; Jamie knows for a fact that he was jealous that Roope got to be on the receiving end of your giggles.

“Whatever, this is going to be fun,” John says.

It truly will be.

. . .

When you got home from work that day, you immediately called your best friend, Lisa, to tell her all about your day with Jamie.

“You know?” you being. “He’s just as infuriating as when we were children. He had the audacity to believe that we could possibly be friends. I mean, come on, the antipathy and rancor between us can be felt for miles and miles. He drives me crazy so much.”

Lisa was glad that you weren’t doing a video call because the smile on her face was wide. Deep down, she knows that there are other feelings besides this hate between you and Jamie; she just wasn’t sure if it would ever come out. “Maybe he wants to be nice again.”

“No, that’s not what this is. If he wanted to be nice and try to be friends again, then he wouldn’t have done exactly what he knew would drive me insane. It’s probably like caffeine to him; driving me insane is the coffee that wakes him up in the morning. You know, now, probably, he wakes up and hatches a plan to try to drive me insane.”

Lisa laughs. “Aren’t you taking this a bit far?”

“Absolutely not, I think I’m acting appropriately. You didn’t see his smirk; I wanted to punch him in the face so badly. Obviously, it wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him as he’s huge now.”

“Oh? Down there too?”

Your face warms suddenly, and you’re glad Lisa can’t see your face. “That’s not what I meant. He’s giant and super muscular. I guess you could assume that he’s packing quite a bit.”

“You know, yn, maybe this is just pent-up sexual tension and frustration. Maybe you just need to get laid and get laid by someone in particular.”

“You’re telling me that when we were seven when Jamie broke my ankle, that was pent-up sexual frustration?”

Lisa laughs. “Okay, maybe not your entire relationship was pent-up sexual tension. Maybe just now and parts of high school? You have to admit, Jamie is quite hot, now, right? Maybe the past few years of hate has led to the dire need to just sleep with each other.”

“Thank you for your take, but these past few days is the first time I’ve spoken to Jamie in almost five years. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Just talk to him. Maybe tell him that you want this to be as professional as possible and try to move past the hate. Yn, before you argue, just think of what working for the Dallas Stars could do to your career. That’s a high-profile job. Maybe if you try to be professional and polite, then maybe he will too?”

You wanted to contradict everything Lisa said, but you knew she was right. For your job to go smoothly, it was important for you to keep a professional attitude and any hate you have for Jamie on the backburner. “You’re right; however, I’m not promising that it’s going to work. I’ll try my best to be professional, but if he starts to aggravate me, I’m not sure if I can keep up that facade.”

“That’s why you talk to him. Maybe set up a time to meet up or something and just discuss what you have to say.”

“That would require me to unblock him on literally everything, even Facebook.”

“Does he still even have that?”

“He does; it’s not even his real name. It’s an alias. He only made it to try to talk to me and bother me. I doubt he uses it and it may be deactivated now.”

“This is besides the point. Yn, Jamie is obviously not going to try to be professional with you, so it’s up to you to make that clear.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

The only lingering thought you had was whether or not this would work. Surely, Jamie could be a decent human being to you, right?

. . .

The next day, you went and sat in the practice arena ready to take the photos that your job required you to take. Today, you decided was going to be the day that you had that all too important conversation with Jamie. You really didn’t want to have that conversation, but you knew that it was important in having a not chaotic working environment for everyone, not just you and Jamie.

When practice was over, you waited outside the locker room for Jamie. He walked out on his own and smirked when he saw you waiting. He didn’t know for sure you were waiting for him; however, when he saw that your phone was off, he assumed you weren’t there for work.

“Hey, ynn,” Jamie says to you and your blood instantly begins to boil. Jamie knew that you never gave him the jurisdiction to call you that, yet he still used it. You wanted to call him out on it but thought better of it. You were here to try to be professional and rehashing this would contradict your objective.

“Hey, Jamie, can we talk? It’s about something important.”

Jamie’s smirk instantly left his face and worry washed over his face. You didn’t know that Jamie could be sympathetic towards anything you said. “Yeah, is everything okay?”

His response shocked you and it took you a moment to regroup. “Oh, yeah. I just want to talk about our relationship, well, lack thereof of one. I think that when we’re here at work, we should be professional. We should put any hate that we have for each other on the side while here so that we can have a better working environment.”

Jamie laughs. “This is what you wanted to talk about? This couldn’t have been a text? You had me so worried, yn.”

“It’s important to me, Jamie,” you protest. You didn’t want to get angry at him, so you calmed yourself down. “I think it’s better for both of us if we can just keep our history and past behind us while we are doing anything to do with the Dallas Stars.”

“If I were to take you out on a date, then we could hate each other as normal?”

“What?” you falter.

“You heard me, yn. You never had a hard time hearing what I had to say.”

“No, absolutely not. You will not be taking me out on a date, ever.”

“Come on, really?”

“Jamie, this is beside the point. I’m trying to move on from our pasts and you aren’t really making this any easier. Isn’t this what you said the other day? You were hoping for a rekindling? Well, this is the first part. Trying to put behind us any hate.” You were raising your voice now. “I’m trying to make my job easier, but you’re making it incredibly difficult. Jamie, all I want is to come to work and not have to worry about whether or not an outburst I make at you will cost me my job.”

Jamie doesn’t have anything to say. “Yn.”

“No, don’t do that. You know, the reason we hate each other is your fault, so you should be the one fixing things, not me.”

“What?”

“You tripped me purposefully when we were three and laughed at me.”

“Wait, this is what this is about?”

“No, that’s the first time you treated me terribly. It was the start of you belittling me and making me feel terrible. I hated going to school because I was always worried about you and your stupid antics.” Tears are forming at the corners of your eyes, and you try to will them away.

Jamie feels terrible now. “I’m sorry, ynn. I didn’t know.”

“Firstly, don’t call me ynn; you don’t get to do that. Secondly, seriously? You’re telling me that you didn’t know you were being a total ass to me? No, I don’t believe that because I know for a fact that your mother talked to you. Do you want to know how I know that? Because she apologized to me time and time again for what you did to me. Don’t you dare say that you had no idea.”

Jamie looks down at you and extends his left leg so it’s jutting out. “You’re right. I was a total ass.”

“Only took you twenty-plus years to finally admit that.”

“Come on, ynn,” Jamie says and you glare at him. “Yn, I’m trying here, and you’re not making it any easier.”

“Oh my goodness, Jamie. Literally, that’s what I’ve been trying to do! You not willing to accept my proposition is the whole reason we’re rehashing this stuff.”

“Yn, I’m sorry. What can I do?”

You look at him and are shocked to see that he has remorse in his eyes. “Nothing, just let me be.” You take a step to the right and begin to walk away. Unfortunately, because Jamie extended his leg, you tripped over it and went crashing to the floor hurting your ankle in the process. You screamed out in pain; you always had weak ankles after breaking them in elementary school. Your cry out in pain brought some people out of the locker room.

Jamie’s eyes go wide in fear. “Yn! Are you okay?”

“Does it look like I’m okay? Jamie, did you really have to trip me?”

“Really? I didn’t mean to! My leg was just there, and you tripped.”

“It doesn’t matter; let me just get up.” You put your hands flat on the ground to help yourself up. The minute your leg is stable enough to be stood up on, you get up but fall immediately. You cry out in pain again.

“You might have sprained your ankle,” Roope says. He was one of the people who rushed out of the locker room when you first fell.

“No, I don’t think so. I just have very weak ankles after Jamie broke, I mean, I broke my ankles in elementary school.” Your correction of Jamie breaking your ankles does not go unnoticed by him. He wants to ask why but feels it’s not the right moment.

“Here, let me help you,” Jamie reaches for your arms and you move them away. “Really, yn? Just let me help you.”

Jamie and Roope help you up and put you on the bench in the locker room, and Roope goes to find a trainer to check on your ankle.

“I’m sorry, yn, really,” Jamie says with a soft voice. You begin to put your foot on the ground but Jamie stops you gently. “Put it on the bench. It’s important to keep it elevated.”

“It’s cold, though,” you pout.

Jamie laughs. “Here, put it on my lap then, okay?”

You look at Jamie hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trick, yn. I think I’ve hurt you enough over the years. Just put your leg on my lap.”

You do as he says and Jamie rests his hands on top of your ankle. Your face grows warm at the touch and you suddenly don’t hate Jamie. “So, you’re finally admitting that you made me miserable?”

“I don’t think I made you miserable,” Jamie says and you scoff. “Wait, let me finish. I think I didn’t make your life any easier. I’m not relenting any more than that, babe.”

You flinch at the pet name, but your face grows warm. Do you address it?

Jamie makes the decision for you. “Yn, I have a question for you.”

You nod, signaling him to continue.

“You were saying something about how you have weak ankles and then said something about me. This isn’t me trying to be self-centered or whatever. I just genuinely want to know. I don’t remember what happened.”

“Well, we were in elementary school and you once, I’m pretty sure it was accidental, put your hand out and it hit me while I was walking down the stairs and I fell. I landed weirdly on my ankle and broke it.”

“So you blame me?”

“Yes, absolutely. Do you blame me? You had a way of hurting me and making it seem like an accident.”

Jamie laughs and you giggle along; he’s about to comment when a trainer walks in.

“Let’s see what’s the matter here,” he says. You are suddenly extremely aware that your leg is sitting on Jamie’s lap and his hands are on your lap. The trainer examines your ankle. “It’s nothing too terrible; just a small sprain. I think if you keep it elevated as much as possible then it should be healed in a few days. Can you try walking on it?”

You nod and put your foot on the ground gently. Jamie puts his hands on your waist as you try to stand, and your skin is burning beneath his touch. “I think I’m good to get back to work.”

“You sure?” Jamie asks, concerned.

You nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you walk away from Jamie’s embrace. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Just ice it and keep it elevated once you get home tonight,” the trainer tells you. You nod and walk out of the locker room.

“What did you do to her?” Roope asks Jamie.

“Too much damage to ever fix,” Jamie says with a sigh. There was no way that your relationship with Jamie would ever go past professional acquaintances after what you revealed to him today. If Jamie knew one thing about you it was that you were strong and steadfast with your opinions and rarely changed them, especially when it came to people. Jamie doubted that he’d be an exception considering all of the past history there.

. . .

The days that followed your fall, you avoided Jamie as much as possible. You could proudly say that you didn’t hate him anymore. That’s not true. You still hated Jamie; however, when you heard his name, you didn’t immediately roll your eyes and get angry. Sometimes, you’d smile and other times you’d have no reaction. This shocked everyone because they all knew about the hatred you had for the Dallas Stars hockey player.

Shortly after, you were taken off of the media job and went back to your marketing job. The night of the home opener, however, Carrie comes up to your office with a request. “Tristain can be back at work but not for games at the moment. Do you think that you could fill in tonight? We had her on the schedule and no one else can be there.”

You hesitate; the only thing holding you back was the fact that you’d be seeing Jamie again.

“Sure, of course!”

You sort out the details with Carrie and are set to be available as part of the media team tonight for the home opener.

Later that day, you’re standing outside of the locker room filming the boys get ready for warmups. Once the video was taken and posted, you put the phone in your pocket and begin to head to the place you were supposed to be. However, someone grabs onto your arm gently and stops you.

“How’s your ankle?” Jamie asks softly.

This should infuriate you; however, his concern has you touched. You don’t show it though. “Better. I think I’d be better, though, if I didn’t have to worry about my ankles but oh well.”

Jamie shakes his head; he wasn’t sure why he was expecting anything else from you.

“I have to go, good luck tonight, Jamie,” you tell him and walk away. You’ll admit, your comment was quite snarky and unneeded. You feel bad for what you said, and Jamie was only trying to be nice. You had to keep up familiarities, right? You hated Jamie Oleksiak for the majority of your life, so why did you suddenly feel bad for what you said to him?

. . .

“Are you coming out with us tonight, Yn?” Denis asks. The team won and wanted to go out and celebrate.

You shake your head. “No, thanks for the invite though.”

“Oh, come on, why not, Ynn?” Jamie asks. Why was he asking you that? Did he not remember that the two of you have hated each other since birth? “Don’t not go because of me.”

“Funny. You think that I care about what you do or think. I just have a few things I have to do.” you lied; you weren’t going to admit that Jamie was the reason you weren’t going out.

Jamie smirks. “Fine, if you say so, but I will continue to think in my head that the reason you’re not coming out with us is because of me and the animosity we have for each other.”

“Well, look at you. Did you finally begin to remember the vocabulary we learned in high school?”

Jamie’s face turns red. Yes, he asked his sister to send photos of his old stuff from high school to try to impress you. He wasn’t going to admit it, however. Ever since that heart to heart in the locker room, Jamie wanted nothing more than to impress you. You went back to bantering and driving each other crazy; however, this was a lighter teasing and driving each other crazy. Some would even call it flirting. Would Jamie say he was flirting with you? Yes, absolutely. Would Jamie say you were flirting back with him? No, absolutely not. You hated him, so Jamie knew that whatever he thought you felt was obviously in his head.

“No,” he grumbles and some of his teammates laugh at him. The one thing that was sticking out to Jamie was that you didn’t correct him when he called you by your nickname. You went along with it. Was there some progress being made? “Enjoy whatever you have to do tonight, yn.”

You smile at him softly that has Jamie’s heart beating fast and walk away.

“Dude, you’re in deep with her,” someone says as they clap Jamie on the back. He didn’t have the energy to determine who was talking to him or contradict what they were saying. They were right; Jamie was in deep and he had no idea what to do about it.

After taking the video you needed for the Stars Instagram of the boys playing soccer at the next home game, you wave goodbye and head to the media offices; you once again had to fill in for the media team. You take five steps and hear a loud “ow!” from the one voice you despised. You turn around to see Jamie rubbing his head and staring down at his teammates. You can’t help but smile.

“Stop staring at her, you idiot,” Roope calls out and this gets a laugh out of all the boys. “Just ask her out instead of staring,” someone else yells. A deep red blush overtakes Jamie’s face and you can’t help but smile. You walk away with a giant smile on your face. You immediately shake it off. Why was Jamie getting flustered making you smile? You hated Oleksiak, right?

. . .

When you got home from work after a long day, all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep. You had a minor sinus infection and the day was exhausting. You had a massive headache and felt nauseous all day. There was nothing more you wanted to do was take a hot shower, curl up in warm clothing, and call it a night. You weren’t expecting to come home and see a DoorDash bag sitting outside your door. You knew for a fact that you didn’t order anything. You picked up the bag and noticed there was a note attached.

Yn,

I heard that you were feeling sick, so I bought you some soup.

Enjoy,

Jamie

Jamie bought you soup? Jamie was asking about you? Where did this come from? Why would Jamie extend any kindness towards you? Isn’t he supposed to hate you? Isn’t Jamie supposed to be making your life miserable? You’ll admit, after the incident where you sprained your ankle slightly, you and Jamie have been cordial. Whenever you both talked to each other, mean words were being passed around. However, it was more of a teasing and flirting meanness. Does this mean that you and Jamie were friends now? No, right?

You walk into your apartment and open the bag - it was Italian Wedding Soup, your favorite. Your heart warmed at the fact that Jamie remembered your favorite soup. Growing up, your grandmother always made this for you when you were sick. Sometimes, she’d bring some over to the Oleksiak house if anyone was sick there, too. You grabbed a bowl and ladle and put some soup in a bowl. The minute you took the first bite, you sighed in content. It wasn’t quite like home, but it was close. You started to immediately feel better. How did Jamie know this was exactly what you needed? You wanted to text him to thank him; however, you didn’t have his phone number and didn’t feel comfortable sending him a text through Instagram quite yet. You opted to write him and note and were going to leave it in his stall the next morning.

You finished the soup and began to feel better. You were happy and thankful for the soup, but you had one lingering thought. Why would Jamie do something like this for you?

The next morning, when Jamie got to his stall, he noticed that there was a gift bag sitting on the bench. He looked around to see if maybe one of his teammates left it there. It wasn't his birthday and there was no big milestone coming up. What was the message behind it, then?

“It was here when I got here,” John tells Jamie.

“He wanted to open it, but we told him that it wouldn’t be nice,” Roope says.

“I didn’t want to open it; I wanted to see who it was from. There’s a difference.”

“Whatever, Jamie, just open it.”

Jamie grabs the bag and looks for a card or maybe a note. He removes a piece of tissue paper and sees a note. He smiles as he sees your familiar handwriting that always got Jamie’s heart racing back in high school.

Jamie,

Thank you so much for the soup last night. How did you know it was my favorite? I didn’t have your phone number, so I am leaving this for you. Enjoy a small treat from home! Again, thank you.

Jamie smiles and peers into the bag. Inside, Jamie finds a bag of snacks that are endemic to the Toronto area. Only, you would know what his favorites were. “It’s from Yn,” Jamie tells his curious teammates.

This gets a few raised eyebrows and snickers from the people that were currently in the locker room.

“Why did she leave you a gift?” Roope asks.

“I bought her some soup and had it delivered to her house yesterday because I heard she was sick. This is her thank you.” Jamie blushes with these words and can’t meet anyone’s eye.

“You got her soup?” John asks curiously. What did this mean? “Are you trying to date her?”

Jamie pales. “What? No. She just wasn’t feeling well, so I tried to make her feel better.”

John smirks. “How did you know exactly what she would want?”

Jamie, not realizing that his teammates were setting him up, answered obliviously. “It was always her favorite growing up.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because I loved her, still do.”

This was not the answer that everyone was expecting. “What?” someone asks.

“What?” Jamie looks up from the note to see everyone staring at him.

“You love Yn? The girl who hates you? The girl who you treated like absolute shit your entire life?” Roope confirms.

“I, yeah, I loved her. In middle school and elementary school, I just messed with her because she was a girl and, you know when you have a crush on a girl that young, you tease her.”

“No, you don’t,” Miro says.

Jamie glares at his teammate. “Whatever, not the point. I thought I was being obvious, and then in high school, I realized I was in love with her.”

“You wanted to treat her right, but you knew she’d find it suspicious.”

“I forgot about my feelings when she went to college and my career picked up, but when I saw her that first time I, just,” Jamie stops talking because he isn’t sure how to continue.

“Realized your feelings.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe just talk to her? Tell her how you feel?” John suggests.

“That probably won’t work. How do I tell her that I’ve been in love with her since we were three and I treated her terribly because I was scared of my feelings? Oh, and I ruined any possibility of her dating anyone in high school because I was a jealous idiot who couldn’t figure anything out.”

Jamie’s words get a few pitiful glances, “that sucks”, and pats on the shoulder. No one knows what to say or do. Jamie was in love with the one person who might never love him back.

. . .

Walking into the ballroom, you were trying to find your boss so that you could tell her that you were here. Tonight was the annual Casino Night and you were working behind the scenes to make sure the night went smoothly. This was the first time you were attending because last year, the marketing team didn’t need you to work it, and you also caught a cold right before.

“Oh, hey, yn’s here,” Carrie calls out and crosses your name off the list. “Perfect, you’re going to be sitting at the table in the front welcoming guests and stuff. You are going to ask for their name, ID, and ticket. Once you do that, you’ll tell them their table number and give them a gift bag. A few of the players will be serving as ushers tonight, so they’ll bring the guests to their tables.”

You nod. You want to ask who the players are, but you don’t want to sound eager.

“The organization assigned Roope Hintz, Denis Gurianov, and Jason Dickinson as ushers. They also put Jamie Oleksiak. I know the two of you have some hardcore animosity between you two, so if you don’t want him there, then we can get someone else.”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be okay,” you tell Carrie. For the first time in your life, you were serious. Things between you and Jamie were cordial and professional. You still hated him like crazy but significantly less than when you were growing up. You weren’t even sure that you and Jamie would be at this point, but here you two both were.”

“Okay, great, why don’t I bring you to your station and show you how the software works,” Carrie says and leads you to the entrance of the ballroom. The next ten minutes pass, and you think you’ve got the software and system figured out pretty well that you should be okay. Carrie told you to organize the table in any way that’s fitting to your needs, so you begin to reorganize based on how you think you’ll be able to work more efficiently.

Walking to the front entrance from the back entrance are the ushers. Leading the pack is Jamie and Roope. They were walking and talking casually when Jamie suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Keep walking,” Jason says and smacks Jamie over the head.

“What are you staring at - oh,” Roope follows Jamie’s eye line and spots you organizing the table.

“She’s so beautiful,” Jamie says with heart eyes. You were wearing a dark green dress that fell just above your knees and matching green stilettos. Your hair was done in the way that you knew looked best. Jamie recognized it as the same way you did your hair for Senior Prom and graduation.

“You know, maybe tonight you should tell her?” Denis suggests.

“I don’t think so,” Jamie says with reluctance. “I know she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Then try not to stare or gape too much, then.”

Jamie nods. “We should head to where we need to be, right?”

The four boys continue walking to where you were. “Hey, yn,” Roope greets you.

You look up and smile. “Hi, well, you guys clean up nicely.”

“As do you,” Jamie tells you, and the heat rushes to your face. So, Jamie was complimenting you now.

“Um, so, I’ll be greeting guests and taking their ticket information,” you explain. “Your job, which you've probably been briefed on, is to escort them to their table numbers.”

“‘Briefed on’?” Jason begins. “Are we in some kind of spy or FBI movie?”

“Very funny,” you say sarcastically. “Not the point, but that’s it basically. I think Ryan from marketing will be here to help me with the tickets. Carrie told me that two of you will be on my side of the table and two on Ryan’s side.”

Ryan suddenly appears and greets you with a hug. “You look nice, yn.”

“Thanks, Ryan, you clean up well, too,” you say back to him. You don’t catch the glare that Jamie was giving to Ryan. “I was just explaining what we’re going to be doing tonight to the boys. Two will be working with you and two with me.”

“Perfect, thanks for briefing them; you four can talk amongst yourselves as to who you’re going to be working with. I don’t care either way.”

“See?” you look pointedly at Jason. “Ryan used ‘brief’, too. Oh, I also don’t care. Actually, I’m going to head to the washroom quickly before people start to arrive.”

You get up and walk away, but you don’t notice Jamie watching you leave. He was incredibly captivated with you and wants nothing more than to sweep you up and kiss you. He wants to profess his love to you and love you forever. Sadly, you would never feel the same way as a result of how he treated you growing up. Jamie is drawn out of his thoughts by Jason smacking his arm.

“Dude, you have to stop staring,” Jason says.

“Oh, you like her?” Ryan asks. “She’s quite a catch.”

“Oh, no, I don’t,” Jamie denies. He gets stares from his teammates. Jamie isn’t sure why he denied having feelings for you. You weren’t even here to hear them anyways.

“Good, I like her, and I think I’m going to ask her out. I wasn’t going to say anything if you liked her, but since you don’t, I should be okay to do so.”

Jamie nods but locks his jaw. “Excuse me, I have to go to the washroom, too.” Jamie walks to the bathroom angrily. Of course, Ryan likes you, who wouldn’t? Why couldn’t Jamie just tell Ryan he likes you? That way, Ryan won’t be asking you out. Too entranced in his thoughts, he runs right into you, again.

“Oof, wow, hi Jamie,” you say to him giggly after regaining your composure. “I should stop doing this, you know, running into you. Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah, why?”

“You look really angry and pissed off.”

“Oh, well, I’m not, so, don’t worry,” Jamie says in a voice that doesn’t express what he just said.

You laugh softly.

“What?” Jamie asks.

“You say you’re not angry, but your tone says anything but,” you explain with an amused smile. You look up to meet Jamie’s eyes, and you see the fury going on in his head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Jamie brushes you off and walks away toward the washroom.

You want to yell after him, but you don’t feel it’s your place to do so.

“Oh good, you’re back,” Ryan says to you. “Jamie and Jason are going to be your ushers and Roope and Denis will be mine.”

You nod and sit down. So, Jamie was going to be closer to you than you thought. “Perfect.”

When Jamie gets back from the washroom and sees you talking to Ryan in a much too friendly manner for his liking, Jamie sulks again. This was going to be a long night.

Somehow, despite his anger and frustration, Jamie was able to put that all aside as he was working as an usher for the Casino Night. Just being near you and around you was enough to calm him down. Watching you interact with the guests made Jamie’s heart warm. He always knew that you were incredibly caring to everyone you met; he just didn’t know that your actions would make him melt and fall more in love with you. After about an hour and a half of welcoming guests, Carrie walks over and says that one group can go and get something to eat. She walks away and the six of you talk amongst yourselves as to who should go. The decision is made for you when two guests walk up to you and begin pulling out their IDs. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Ryan, Roope, and Denis head into the ballroom to have dinner. After welcoming them in, Denis ushers the guests to their table. You take a breath of releasing exhaustion and Jamie smiles at you.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s a lot of people to talk to; when I took this job, I thought it would just be marketing, not the rest of this, too,” you tell him. “It’s a very versatile job.”

“Well, if it weren’t versatile, then we wouldn’t have ever come into contact with each other, right?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet.”

Jamie looks you in the eye. “Well, I think it’s a good thing. A very good thing.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah?” you say to Jamie, and he nods. “I’ll take that into consideration as I make my decision.”

Jamie chuckles deeply, and you feel the shivers go up your spine.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you ask Jamie.

“Sure,” he tells you.

“Why were you, actually never mind,” you stop asking, seeing Denis walking back to the table.

Jamie was about to question why, but he sees Denis and another guest approaching. He takes this as the reason that you stopped talking. You put on a bright smile and begin talking to the guests and welcoming them. Jamie ushers them into the ballroom after you talk and gives you a wink. You feel the warmth reach your face; you see Denis shaking his head and you question him.

“Just give him a chance,” he replies to you.

“What?” you ask confused.

“I’m serious, just give him a chance.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You will, just give him a chance when you realize you know what I’m talking about.”

You nod. What in the world could he be talking about?

Three hours after the event starts, Carrie comes over to the six of you and tells her that you were all relieved of your duties and were free to enjoy the event. You weren’t sure what to do now.

“Where are you headed?” Jamie asks.

“I’m not sure, you?”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I’ve never been to one of these before, and most of my friends are working or have their own dates. I don’t have a table to sit at and don’t want to intrude.”

Jamie nods. He extends his arm for you, and you look at him skeptically.

“What?” you ask.

“Dance with me,” he tells you.

You want to tell him he’s crazy and that there was no way in hell that you were going to dance with him. However, you wanted to. You wanted to dance with Jamie, so you loop your arm through his and he leads you into the ballroom. The two of you find a spot on the dance floor and maneuver yourselves into a dancing position. Jamie rests his two hands on your waist and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. You giggle softly; your hands don’t reach because Jamie is too tall.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re too tall; I can’t get my arms to go around your neck,” you tell him.

“Oh,” Jamie says. His eyes suddenly light up. He removes one of his hands from your waist and takes your hand. “Now, you put one of your hands on my back. This work?”

You do as he says and nods. “Yeah, and now we dance!”

“That we do.”

You and Jamie begin swaying with the music. You remember that you had a question you wanted to ask Jamie, so you decide to prompt him with it now. “Hey, Jamie?”

“Yes, ynn?”

“Why were you so upset earlier?” you ask.

Jamie suddenly stiffens, and you begin tracing patterns on his back with your hand to try to calm him down. “No reason.”

“So, you mean to tell me that you just get angry for no apparent reason?”

“No, I did get angry for a certain reason.”

“Care to share? A penny for your thoughts?”

What about a kiss for my thoughts. “It’s stupid. Ryan just said something I didn’t like, so I got angry.”

“Oh, okay.”

Jamie smiles at you, and you both continue to dance to the song. When the song ends, you begin to release your grasp of Jamie, but he doesn’t do the same.

“Jamie, the song's over.”

“I know, one more?” he asks. You want to say yes, but you aren’t sure why you don’t want to. You aren’t sure what this shift in your relationship is, but you need some time to figure it out on your own.

“I’m sorry, my feet hurt, I think I’m going to head to the back with staff and just rest, okay?” you pivot.

Jamie nods and releases his hold on you. “I probably have to do some sucking up to the donors and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, probably,” you tease. “See you later?”

“Absolutely, yes,” Jamie says to you, and the two of you go your separate ways. You head to the back to find Carrie, and Jamie heads to his teammates.

“So, did you finally tell her?” Denis asks excitedly.

“No,” Jamie says glumly.

The team gathered at this certain location all shook their heads in annoyance. When will the two of you finally realize these things?

You’re sitting in the back kitchen with a piece of chocolate cake as the event wraps up. Carrie told you that you could just sit in the back if you didn’t want to go out. Yeah, that’s what you did. You didn’t want to see Jamie again because you didn’t know what the shift in your guys’ relationship was. You needed to talk to Lisa as soon as you could before you saw Jamie again. Sadly, the universe didn’t care that much about what you felt.

“Is this the pity party?” Jamie asks as he sits across from you. He grabs the fork in your hand and takes a bite out of your cake.

“Hey!” you jokingly scold. “And no, this isn’t a pity party. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You could have come and found me, you know.”

You open your mouth to say something but close it right away.

“What?” Jamie asks with his mouth full of cake.

“Stop eating my cake,” you tell him and take your fork out of his hand. “Should you really be eating this anyway?”

“It’s cake.”

“Yeah, and you’re a professional athlete.”

“I don’t follow.”

You sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating only healthy things?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“But you’re eating cake.”

“Oh, now I get what you're saying,” Jamie says to you. “Just don’t tell the nutrition staff.”

“Then maybe you should wipe that chocolate icing off your face,” you joke.

“Oops, my bad,” Jamie begins wiping the icing off his face but misses.

“Here, let me,” you say and scoot your chair closer to him. You use your thumb and wipe the icing off your face. “Better.”

“Thank you,” Jamie says to you, and his face gets closer to yours so close that your foreheads are touching. “Yn, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you say to him, realizing how close your face is to his.

“You know how you asked me earlier today about why I was mad?” Jamie asks, and you nod. “Well, I wasn’t entirely telling you the truth. Yes, Ryan said something I didn’t like. When you walked to the washroom, I was staring at you because you were so beautiful. One of the guys told me to stop staring at you, and Ryan asked if I liked you. I don’t know why, but I told him no even though I’m so in love with you. Ryan then said that he was going to ask you out, and I got mad. I got mad because I want to be the one to love you, and I think Ryan might be the one to get that first.”

You pull back slightly, shocked. “What?”

“I’m in love with you; I always was.”

There’s no way you feel the same way. Where did that come from? “What? No, Jamie. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve treated me like shit our entire life. There is no way you’re in love with me. No, you’re not. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You get up abruptly and walk out of the kitchen.

You walk to go find Carrie, so you could tell her you were going to head home. You were going to tell her you feel sick, which you do. You find Carrie and tell her you’re going to head home. She says it’s fine, and you head to the exit.

“Yn, wait, don’t leave because of me,” Jamie says to you as you’re about to leave. Somehow, he found you and was following you.

“No, Jamie, if you didn’t want me to leave, you shouldn’t have said those things to me. Why? Do you hate me that much that you want to mess with me so badly?”

“What? No, of course not. I don’t hate you, yn!”

“That’s rich; I’m leaving. Goodnight, Jamie.”

You don’t see the fallen look on Jamie’s face as you walk away, but his teammates do. Jamie goes back to his table but doesn’t say anything. Why did he think you’d ever feel the same way? Because he was nice for a few months? No, he should have known better. This was his fault, and he had to live what he did.

You held in your tears until you got to your car. The minute your door closed, you broke down. How dare he do this to you? How dare Jamie say something like that to mess with you? What was his problem? Why would he do that?

You and Jamie both went home miserable that night. Jamie went home heartbroken, and you went home angry and annoyed. What happens next?

. . .

You called in sick the Monday after Casino Night. You weren’t ready to face Jamie even though you knew that you’d probably not see him. You weren’t sure what to think. Jamie was always someone that you knew would be in your life. However, you always thought he’d be there as your lifelong enemy who you happened to still be in semi-contact with because your parents were friends. As of late, though, you’ve been seeing Jamie as a friend. You weren’t going to lie, you found Jamie ridiculously attractive, and ever since the accident you had where you and Jamie finally talked, you began to see him in a different light. Instead of your first thought being how much you hated him, you thought about the good things he had to himself. You saw how friendly he was to everyone, and he always asked how you were. He had a selflessness to himself that you were starting to love about him.

“Why are you telling me all this, yn?” Lisa asks you exasperated. “I always thought that the two of you were perfect for each other, even in high school. Don’t lie, you thought about it, too.”

You pause for a moment carefully thinking about what you were going to say. “I guess you’re right. I did have a small crush on him in high school because, for almost six months, he was mostly nice to me.”

“And what about now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“Yes, please, Lisa.”

“I think you’re in love with him, too. I think you always have been; I think he’s one of those people that is always going to be in your life whether or not you like it. At first, everyone thought you two were going to be the best of friends and take over the world. That all changed when he tripped you and the rest is history, but I think it’s different now. This time around, you both are mature adults who, I think, subconsciously realized that the way they dealt with the crushes they had on each other was by absolutely hating each other. You both didn’t know what to do, so you’re coping mechanism? Hate each other senselessly because you didn’t know what else. Now, Jamie realized how he feels and wants that with you. He said it first, right? Maybe he wants to show you he’s changed and truly loves you now.”

“I guess you’re kind of right,” you tell Lisa. “I just, I don’t know how I feel.”

“Do you find him attractive?”

“Yes, of course, he’s gorgeous.”

“Did you always think that?”

“Yes, because he’s always been gorgeous.”

“Was one of the reasons you hated him because he was so gorgeous?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Lisa,” you tell your best friend skeptically.

“My point is that if you truly hated him, you wouldn’t have called him gorgeous so quickly. I think you would have just denied finding him attractive and that’s that. Now that you know what nice and kind Jamie is like, I think you want more. You want to have more with him because you’ve seen what a great person Jamie is. Because you’ve seen the goodness, you want more and all of it. Can you say that you currently hate Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being?”

“No, I cannot say that I hate Jamie Oleksiak with my entire being.”

“Your first reaction to him telling you how he feels was not to punch him or to hurt him, was it?”

“No, I guess it wasn’t,” you say calmly.

“What was it then, yn?”

“In my head, and I don’t know why I said it, but it was ‘there’s no way you feel the same way', and I was surprised those words even formed in my head.”

“Don’t you see, yn? You feel the same way! You just didn’t know it! Your head and heart have been trying to tell you how you feel by spreading warmth to your face, making you feel shy, or just wanting to be around him. Yn, you’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”

“Holy shit, I’m in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”

“You’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak, yn.”

“Oh dear goodness, what do I do now, Lisa?”

“Apologize and tell him.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah, I can do that, right?”

“If you want to be with him, then yeah.”

“Okay, I can do that, it shouldn’t be too hard, right? What could possibly go wrong?”

. . .

Believe it or not, a lot. The next day, you were set to go back to work, but you woke up with a massive migraine, an aching cough, and a debilitating stomach ache. You couldn’t go to work feeling like this, so you called in sick for real this time. You finally had the courage to go see a doctor, and they told you it was just a bug. They gave you some antibiotics, and you were back to work in three days.

On the Saturday after Casino Night, Carrie asked if you could fill in for the media team, and you agreed enthusiastically. Maybe you’d finally be able to see Jamie and talk to him?

Unfortunately, that was not the case. You weren’t outright trying to talk to Jamie or get his attention, but you weren’t not doing that. You tried to act normal, but Jamie wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You were able to catch him alone after the game, but when you called out to him, he didn’t respond. You went home that night crying thinking you ruined something great without knowing you had something great at the tip of your fingers.

The following Monday, you were sitting in the GM’s offices when Jamie walked in looking for one of the team managers. You were the one of two sitting in the room, and Jamie walked to the other person who was on the far side of the room to ask if the manager was there. You’ll admit, that hurt.

You saw Jamie a few days later on your way to the locker room to give some paperwork to the coaching staff. You were about to turn the corner when your foot got stuck in a loose floorboard, and you went tumbling to the ground.

“Are you okay?” someone asks you as you try to get up.

“I mean, considering I just fell to the ground, no, but thanks for asking,” you answer and lookup. “Jamie.”

“Yn,” he replies back to you. “I’m going to go.”

“Jamie, wait, please.”

“What, yn? Are you going to reject me again because I don’t want to have that conversation with you, then.”

“When we both aren’t at work and in a public place, can we please talk?”

“Why should I agree to that, yn? Because, for your information, you’re breaking my heart. I can’t do this if you’re just going to make me feel terrible.”

You falter slightly when Jamie tells you that you’re breaking his heart. “I’m really sorry, can we just please pick a time and place to talk?”

“Sure, right here, right now.”

“Jamie, that’s not what I --”

“No, if you want to talk, then right here. I don’t want to have this conversation later if you’re going to reject me again.”

You’re getting kind of sick and tired of Jamie insisting that you’re going to reject him again because you’re not. “Jamie! I’m not going to reject you again! Do you think I’m some kind of heartless monster who loves to see you suffer? Guess what, I don’t! I hate that my words made you hurt and put you in a terrible mood. I apologize for that. You know you got to speak your mind, isn’t it time for me to be able to speak mine?”

Jamie is about to say something, but you stop him.

“No, I’m not going to break your heart, I promise. Just listen, okay?”

Jamie nods and takes one step towards you.

“Casino Night? You caught me off guard. My entire life, I hated you and that was all I knew. Wake up? Hate Jamie. Go to bed? Hate Jamie. You have to admit, though, you didn’t make it hard, but that’s beside the point. When I literally ran into you all those months ago, I picked up where we left off because that was all I knew. Then, come to find out, I didn’t like that. When I tripped over your foot and we talked? That was the shift inside of me. I didn’t know what I was feeling. The next few things I’m going to say I didn’t makeup on my own, Lisa helped me with it. She told me that I got to experience nice and kind Jamie, and I loved it. I did, I loved being on the receiving end of it. She was saying how I wanted more, all of the love and kindness you have to offer. She’s not wrong. I want everything you have to offer because I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“Casino Night? I didn’t know what I was feeling. If you gave me a bit more time, on my own, then I think I would have realized it soon. I’m not sure if you know this, but in sophomore year of high school, I had a crush on you because, for once, you were quite nice to me. I like nice Jamie because he makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Jamie Oleksiak, I’m in love with you even though I spent almost twenty years hating you. And, that’s all I have to say, so I’m going to go now.”

You begin to turn around, but Jamie’s next words leave you stunned. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were three.”

“What?”

“When we were three years old, I realized I had a crush on you. I wouldn’t have called it a crush, but I always saw how in love my parents were and one day wanted that with you. You know how children get ‘married’? Well, I wanted to marry you. I didn’t know how to process how I felt so I treated you like shit and for that, I’m sorry. I realized I was in love with you in high school, but at that point, too much damage was created for me to go back and change things. When I saw you again a few months back, I realized that I never really got over you, and I wanted more with you.”

You take a step forward. “So.”

“So?”

“So, we’re two idiots who are in love with each other, then?”

“So we are,” Jamie says to you with a smile.

“Now what do we do?” you ask.

“Well, I’d like to take you out for dinner and maybe kiss you? Then, take you out for dinner again and call you my girlfriend. What do you think?”

“I think you should kiss me now and we can just jump to the ‘I’m your girlfriend’ part.”

“That’s a deal,” Jamie says and leans down to kiss you. He places a gentle kiss on your lips before leaning back to take a breath. He leans in again, and you both deepen the kiss he places on your lips. All of five seconds pass when you hear cheering behind you. “I guess this is why you wanted to talk in private, right?”

You laugh. “Yeah, it was. Maybe you should listen to me more often.”

“Well, now that you’re my girlfriend, I guess I have more of a reason to.”

“And why’s that?”

“So I get to keep you and love you forever?”

You smile and say, “that I can do.” You perch upon your tippy-toes and kiss Jamie again. Who knew that two childhood enemies could one day learn to love each other?

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @petey-patty @beauvibaby @boqvistsbabe @rmaye @heatherawoowoo @heaveniish @stars-canucks @tkapuckit @mellany1997 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @2manytabsopen @habsfan @besthockeyfics @plds2000 @kaitieskidmore1 @iwantahockeyhimbo @sidscrosbyy @barzysandmarnersbitch @ollywahlygator @leafs-forever @laurenairay @no-pucks-given @sixmapleleafs (Join my taglist here!)

#jamie oleksiak #jamie oleksiak imagine #jamie oleksiak x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars x reader #Jamie oleksiak fic #claudia writes

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years ago

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being the MSBY Jackals’ physiotherapist

anon: HEY BOO! LISTEN BEING THE BLACK JACKELS PHYSIOTHERAPIST! I can imagine a lot of damage I- bye 😽 I could I please have that as a headcanon 👉👈 thanks! ❤️ (that is a If requests are open..)

they are most definitely open and OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING IDEA WHEN I GOT THIS I COULDN’T WAIT TO START. i’ve been watching a lot of vids on what physical therapists do too and i hope you like this it was so fun to write !!

Bokuto Koutarou:

he deadass got you mixed up with the sports psychologist

when he walked into your clinic he was all ‘ah, hey there’ before lying faceup on the cot and just talking about his problems

and at first you were alright cause good to make conversation and everything until you realized.... “this guy thinks i’m the therapist”

bokuto: people always assume that i’m really naive and i kinda am but--

you: bokuto,,,, i’m not the therapist

bokuto: oh 👁👄👁

you: does it, um, hurt anywhere?

bokuto: *points to his heart*

after directing him to therapist’’s office, you finally clear up his misconceptions on what you’re supposed to be

you did hear about bokuto but what you didn’t expect was that he was An Actual Ray of Sunshine

whenever he comes to your office for his weekly check-ups, he always brings some sort of present

he likes to bring a package of cookies and the two of you eat them while you have your session

bokuto still uses the term ‘ouchie’ and it’s adorable

he takes really good of himself and his body so he isn’t prone to serious injuries. as soon as he knows something feels off, he’ll stop himself from working and come to your clinic

except,,, he comes way too often

bokuto: I WAS FLEXING MY FINGER AND THEN IT SUDDENLY MADE A CRACK SOUND WILL IT FALL OFF???

you: you’ve... never popped your fingers before?

bokuto: you can POP your FINGERS???

in interviews, bokuto loves to mention all the people who helped him on his journey and ngl it’s a REALLY LONG LIST but he always, always mentions you as ‘the best physical therapist ever!!’

and it makes you so soft you love your job so much

he actually ends up recommending you to his friend, akaashi keiji, because bokuto knows his shoulders and back hurt

akaashi comes into your office and just goes: “can you crack my back and shake me like a glowstick?”

you: i think you’re looking for a chiropractor

akaashi: ...

you: okay, lie down. i’ll see what i can do

Hinata Shouyo:

he got LOST TRYING TO FIND YOUR CLINIC

like, you were checking your watch wondering where your client was before he burst into your clinic thirty minutes late

also for some reason he was really nervous to see you poor baby he had the misconception that you were there to find what was wrong with him and then after he wouldn’t be able to play again

so he was genuinely surprised after you just made him do a few stretches for him, recommended some ways to move his body to utilize it better, and just sent him off

hinata: just... just like that?

you: yeah, pretty much. unless you feel that something else is wrong

after that he’s not so afraid to visit your clinic. in fact, he enjoys it quite a lot!

hinata really takes note of the advice you gave him (he brings a notepad and everything) and he likes to call you up to let you know that they worked

he actually calls you A LOT, like you’re probably the person he texts and calls the most other than natsu

at one point he was calling you every single day asking about what to eat until you decided to make a whole-ass weekly meal plan for him to just cycle through

he’s actually quite flexible (not as much as sakusa though) and he’s so proud of being able to reach farther than his toes

when you’re not looking though he measures himself against the height chart on your wall and you think it’s absolutely adorable

hinata knows how to take care of his body and TRIES not to overwork himself but sometimes he gets really impatient about wanting to improve so he’ll stay late in the gym, practicing his spikes and serves

BUT since his teammates know hinata listens to you they’ll threaten to tell you when he’s overworking

sakusa: hinata, if you don’t leave the gym right this instant i am calling y/n

hinata: just five more minutes!!

sakusa: *pulls out his phones and presses some random numbers in*

hinata: OKAY OKAY I’M GOING

it’s kind of like the adult version of your parents calling the doctor when you don’t want to eat

also you have no idea that this happens

even though he’s moved on from it, hinata still gets a bit paranoid about playing a major game while being sick

you’re always at their games as part of their medic crew and before it starts, hinata always comes up to you and asks if you can take his temperature

you didn’t know why until atsumu explained everything so now you make sure to always have a temperature on you for hinata’s peace of mind

Atsumu Miya:

someone who actually knows what physical therapists actually do thank god

ngl you’re kinda shookt at how large he is in real life when he walks into your clinic

he also assumes right away that you want an autograph so he gifts you a signed picture of himself which you always have on your desk from now on because come on you are a fan

atsumu’s really nice to talk to, he does flirt quite a bit but he genuinely asks about how you are too or if your family is doing alright

such a sweet boy

atsumu’s the one who visits your office often but for reasons that are actually relevant to your job because this man just overexerts himself too much

and he keeps brushing it off and saying that he’s alright but you know better you’re a physical therapist for god’s sake

atsumu: i’m telling you. it’s just a sprain!

you: *pokes his ankle*

atsumu: aaaAAAAAAHHHH

he’s the one that you have to constantly keep tabs on and thanks to the help of his teammates and a spare key, you’re able to drop by his apartment once in a while

but no matter how much of a pain in the ass he is you still can’t help but want to take care of him. whenever you make yourself dinner you find yourself making seconds for atsumu

before you know it, you’re making dinner for your favorite MSBY boys because you don’t want them to feel left out

you also have to stop atsumu from overdoing on the protein shakes and drinking vitamins

because he’s addicted protein shakes especially the strawberry-flavored one but you’re the only one who knows that so shhhhhh

atsumu: if one vitamin capsule makes me healthy, does that mean drinking more will make me even more healthy ??

you: NO STOP. STOP WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING. RIGHT NOW.

one time you got a call in the middle of the night from atsumu saying that he ate an entire container of gummy vitamins and you had to run to his place in your pajamas

idk you just see him so much because he keeps getting injuries and it’s hilarious

atsumu, walking into your clinic: hey, doc! they sent me here cause my back hurts from carrying the entire team!

you: atsumu, you dislocated your shoulder

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

probably your most normal client among the four of them but that doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy his visits to the clinic

well, actually when he first visited your clinic, everyone else stalked him because they wanted to see his Flexible Wrists in action

you had to chase them out

sakusa is SO HAPPY that you just took one look at his Flexi-Wrists and noted it down without going batshit over it

you always spray the cots and your instruments with alcohol before he comes in and sakusa knows cause he smells it and he appreciates that so much

one thing that you do notice is that sakusa,,, frequently glances at the jar of lollipops you keep on your desk and give out to your kid patients

and after a session he just lingers for a bit before saying good bye and leaving so one day you just take a chance

you: would you,,, like a lollipop?

sakusa: .... yes please

he chooses a cherry flavored one and is about to leave when he sits back down on the chair

sakusa: they’ll never let me hear the end of it if they see me

so you let him stay in your clinic for a bit longer before deciding to also get a lollipop and that’s how the two of you end your sessions

no talking. just lollipop eating

(i know how it looks but pls don’t add sexual connotations i jus want sakusa to enjoy a fricking lollipop)

he actually likes to remember the scientific muscle names and everything just to impress you

also, he doesn’t want to give you a hard time but he also likes visiting your office and talking to you (and eating the lollipops) so he makes up all these excuses to come by your clinic

sakusa: i hit my toe on the table

you: okaay, do you need a bandaid?

sakusa: it was the small toe

sakusa’s quite selective about the people he’s with so he’s kind of attached to you now. like it or not, you’re his personal doctor

prepare to receive texts like ‘y/n, i have a cough. what should i drink?’

you: sakusa, i’m a PHYSICAL THERAPIST

you: also, ginger tea is supposed to be good for you

he’s actually your eyes and ears when it comes to monitoring the team. kind of like the kid who tattles to the teacher in pre-school

sakusa: y/n, atsumu’s overdoing it again

you: is that so?

atsumu, in the background: NOOOOO NOOO I’M NOT !! SAKUSA’S LYING

you have such a soft spot for sakusa. when he had to be confined at home for breaking his ankle, you sent him a whole jar of lollipops

he ate them all in one day

***********************************************

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love @waitforitillwritemywayout @kattykurr @tpwkatsumu

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flyersheartbreaker · 3 years ago

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Forever By Your Side| Isaac Ratcliffe

a/n: this is my first imagine that I am officially publishing! I am very excited to share all of my writing content and series with you guys :)

Pair: Isaac Ratcliffe x reader

Summary: Watching your boyfriend Isaac get seriously hurt during one of his home games and watching him battle through the toughest injury a hockey player could battle, so he can continue on with dream playing in the NHL

Warnings: Hockey Injuries, Cussing, Cute Fluff

Word Count: 3,321 words

It was just another ordinary Sunday afternoon watching a game live from the PPL center here in Allentown, Pennsylvania or so I thought. The game was going really well with the Phantoms up 3-1 on the Hershey Bears half way through the second period. There was your beloved star-studded boyfriend number 19 carrying the puck up against the boards through the neutral zone when suddenly bam everything went to complete silence, except for that shear sound that you wish you could so badly get out of you head.

I jumped out of my seat and darted up the stairs from the lower-level seats that I was sitting in with some of the other girlfriends. I can hear the god-awful scream ringing in my ears over and over again that was coming down from ice level. The crowd was silent, so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop and when that happens you know for a fact that it isn’t good. Nothing ever good comes from silence at a time like this and I needed to get down to the locker rooms as quick as possible.

Isaac got hit hard up against the boards and fell awkwardly down to the ground, and his right foot looked like it twisted the wrong way. He's had rough collisions before, but never like this. Isaac is a big dude that you surely didn’t want to ending up colliding with, but this time it looked like Isaac got the wrong end of the play. I never in my life ever heard him yell in absolute pain like the wat he was when the trainers and his teammates were trying to help his 6-foot-6 body off of the ice.

My heart was in my stomach as I was racing down the stairs that would lead me to the home locker rooms. I quickly flashed my team badge to the security guard Frank without saying a word. He must have known it wasn’t good either, as he told me to breathe and be careful myself as I jumped down the last few steps.

If Isaac had a season ending injury, it would kill him. He was just heating up and playing his best hockey yet and working his ass off day in and day out so he could eventually make the Flyers roster within this season or even next season for sure. But if his season is over that means his chances of getting to the NHL level could be too and that would just destroy him completely.

As soon as I rounded the corner to the trainer's office, I saw him being helped on to the examine table. His face was as red as a cherry, and he was in a lot of pain. The trainers quickly started icing the area the best that they could as they slowly untied his skate and too it off of him.

“He is definitely going to need some X-Rays done immediately and possibly an MRI as well depending on what the results of the X-Rays are.” The Phantoms trainer Brian Grogesky said to Neil who was one of the Phantoms physicians.

“Jeff and Robert are on their way down from the press box and getting the emergency X-Ray equipment ready. In the mean time you need to relax the best that you can Isaac.” Neil said to Isaac as Isaac tried his best laying down comfortably on the examine table.

Both Brian and Neil noticed me standing outside of the door of the trainer's room and signaled me to come on in, in hopes that Isaac could ease up and relax a little bit more with me by his side.

“Hello, y/n! Looks like we got a live one here and that big boy landed pretty hard on that ankle of his.” Brian said trying to make light of the situation.

Isaac sat up on his elbow and looked me dead in the eyes. I can see and feel the pan behind them, my heart sank even more for him. I just want him to be okay, I want him to be able to play the rest of this season, he worked way too fucking hard for this to happen to him.

“Hey babes, how is the pain?” I said walking over to Isaac and grabbing his hand while kissing him ever so lightly and carefully.

“It's a bitch babe if I am being honest. I’m trying not to think of the worst, but I can’t help it. This isn’t fair, why me? Why fucking me?” Isaac said in more frustration.

“Isaac, don’t get too far ahead of yourself. We don’t know the actual results just yet. But whatever the outcome is you can come back from it stronger than ever. Hockey injuries is sometimes apart of the game as silly and stupid as it sounds, but you’re a fighter and you got this.” Neil said as he placed another bag of ice on Isaac’s ankle.

“They are right babe, your team trainers, physicians and any other doctors have your best interests. Let’s get you into the X-Ray room and then go from there okay big guy.” I said while planting another kiss onto Isaac’s lips.

Jeff brought in some crutches for Isaac to use, so they can take him down the hall to get the X-Rays taking care of. I am hoping that is all that Isaac is going to need and that whatever it is, it's a quick recovery.

After a few short minutes Isaac was crutching back out of the X-Ray room with a look of disappointment on his face.

“Oh no babe...how bad is it?” I asked him while he collects himself.

“It’s not broken...but they are sending me for an MRI early tomorrow morning to see if that shows up with anything and then go from there.” He said in a low tone.

“Well, that is a plus sign that it isn’t broken. You got to be positive about this honey, you need to be optimistic. You can't be negative. Everything is going to work out for the best. Hopefully it's just a minor sprain and you will be back on the ice in no time.” You told Isaac as you wrapped yourself around his side.

All of Isaac’s staff and trainers helped Isaac out of the arena and to his car and safety got him into the passenger seat while, I got into Isaac’s driver's seat.

“Alright, make sure when you get home you put more ice on that ankle for at least 15-20 mins on and then same time off. Do it throughout the night if you can and also, make sure you are using the crutches as much as possible and for the love of God Isaac do not put any pressure on that ankle until after we get the MRI results and see exactly what is going on. We don’t want to make the injury any worse than what it could already be. Try to get some much-needed rest and we will see you in the morning.” Brian said closing the passenger door.

The ride back to Isaac’s apartment complex was extremely quiet. I didn’t know what to say or what to do, so I just let Isaac sit there and pounder in his thoughts alone without me distracting him. Which probably wasn’t a good idea, because I know my boyfriend, I know for a fact that he is thinking the worst possible scenario that he could think of right now.

I helped Isaac out of the car and into the elevators up to his apartment and got him comfortably settled on the couch with his foot/ankle elevated and two ice packs placed on the injured area.

“Do you want or need anything? You want me to bring out another pair of comfy clothes for you?” You asked Isaac as you placed a pillow behind his head/back and placed a blanket right by him as well.

“No, I’m fine...” He whispered as scrolled on his iPad to rewatch the ending of the game and rewatch highlights and the moment of his injury.

You so badly, wanted to say something along the lines to him like "babe don’t be watching that now, it wasn’t your fault, there was nothing that you could have done to prevented that from happening, so on and on.” But deep down you knew nothing would make him feel better until he knew what the main results were. And as the night went on, you could see the realization hit him that this was going to keep him out for a while. He just looked sad, and drained.

After a couple of hours, another X-Ray, and an MRI later, you and Isaac were sitting there waiting in the trainer's office for the results from both the trainer and team doctors.

Both Brian and Jeff walk in with a folder which I assume held the test results for Isaac’s ankle/foot.

“Well, the good news is the second X-Ray that we took this morning once again showed that there was no brake in both the ankle and the foot.” Brian said.

“And what about the MRI? What did the MRI show?” Isaac asked nervously.

I grabbed Isaac’s hand and interlocked his fingers with mine. I could see the look on both Brian’s, Jeff’s, and even Coach Gordon’s face that this news that they are about to give doesn’t seem to be very promising.

Jeff cleared his throat ever so calmly and spoke. “The MRI came back with a high ankle sprain injury which means we really don’t have a timetable for you to return to at this point of time. This type of injury is extremely difficult to recover from quickly. So, with that being said we need to place you on injury reserve indefinitely until we get more of a clear view on this injury.”

“Out indefinitely...so that could mean that I might be done for the season?” Isaac ever so softly spoke.

“Unfortunately, yes Rat...I am so sorry and with it being late into the season already we don’t want to risk anything further and do anymore damage to the ankle. Brian, Jeff and myself all agreed on shutting you down for the remainder of this year. So, it’s better for you to take this time to heal carefully and properly and then eventually rehab it back to full strength without any other necessary tests or worse case scenario surgeries. Then once you have healed properly, we can train and get you back to 100 percent for next year's rookie and training camp.” Coach Scott Gordon said while looking at both Isaac and myself.

My heart broke ever so much for Isaac, this isn’t fair. I know injuries can be a part of the game sometimes, but why did this have to happen to Isaac and why now?! He has been killing it day in and day out since being drafted in 2017. He deserves his chance at playing at the NHL and now with this setback is he ever going to make it to that level?

The ride to Isaac’s apartment was once again a quiet one and this time I don’t blame him. I mean how is he supposed to react to something like this? What is he supposed to say or do when your head coach, trainer and team doctor shut you completely down for God knows how long.

Isaac settled down on the couch and tossed his crutches to side and unstrapped his high ankle boot so he can comfortably rest his ankle on the pillow in front him.

"Baby, I am so fucking sorry that is happening, it’s not right nor is it fair to you." I said, resting my head on his shoulder while getting cozy next to him.

"What if this is it for me? What if I can't play anymore after this?" He asks, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't say that. You being negative will only make that happen. You are a fighter Rat...you are one tough, strong as hell hockey player who will power through this. I promise you that." I said grabbing his hand and interlocking our fingers together, while placing a kiss on his hand.

A tear rolls down his cheek ever so slightly. "All I wanted to do was be that excitement that both the Lehigh and Philly fans need. All I wanted ever so badly was to have my chance to make it to the NHL level and it got taken away from me. Why do bad things happen to good people?" Isaac asked broken and frustrated.

Once he started crying, I had lost it. Nothing I could do, or say would take that pain away from him and it just broke my heart. I went into the kitchen and I just cried as grabbed him more ice packs from the freezer. How am I supposed to look at the man that I love, and not have my heart shatter like glass when I look into those eyes that were once so shiny, and bright, but now shows nothing at all? I have no idea the pain he is going through or the frustrating emotions he is now going through as well and I feel terrible.

I eventually collected myself and walked back out into the living room and ever so easily and softly place the ice packs on the injured area and took my seat back on the couch next to Isaac.

"That's the crappy thing about life.” I breathed as I took a deep breathe myself and continued on. “For some reason, it always attacks the good ones, and praises the hell out of the bad ones." I sob, wiping away not only my own tears but also his tears once again. "We'll get through this. I promise. It'll be hard, and it'll be long, but we're going to pull through this." I tell him as I run my hand through his hair.

He squeezes my other hand tightly. "What if during my time out things don’t get better and I need to get surgery, and it's worse than they thought? That could happen. What if they see that my injury is worse than what they thought and that I am out on the shelf even longer and I completely miss this upcoming season as well? Or worse they tell me that I can't do this anymore?" He asks, gasping for air. "I don't want that to happen and I'm scared to death that it will."

I snuggled beside him even more then I already was, resting my head on his chest, sobbing harder than I was before, because I honestly hate when he thinks that he isn’t good enough or he thinks his career is over because of a minor setback or in this case a possible major setback. "Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? Just for now, it's a bump in the road. No journey to greatness is a smooth one Isaac. Whatever the hell happens next, we'll face it together as a team, because I am not leaving your side and letting you fight this injury alone. I know that you so badly want to break and that you feel like this the end of the road, but you need to keep pushing and listen to the training staff and follow their instructions."

"I love you so much." He tells me, sniffling. "Thank you for helping me with this, baby, I couldn’t do this without you" Isaac said while planting a soft and slow kiss on my lips

"I'll help you through anything. No matter what." I said while smiling and kissing him softly back.

It was battle to get Isaac’s ankle back to a healthy, normal, and stable ankle for a hockey player at his height and weight but we were able to do it. It was a long road and journey until Isaac was back out on the ice skating again and preparing himself for this upcoming training camp season.

Isaac looked and felt good, until one day right before the Flyers condensed training camp something didn’t seem right with him.

Isaac met up with Flyers trainer Jim McCrossin and after a deep examination we found out that Isaac was suffering from a fractured rib and a collapsed lung. We don’t know how exactly this had happen or when it happened. It could have been from when he fell during his ankle injury or from being hit during Rookie Camp, we don’t have the answers right now. And once again, here I am watching my boyfriend being completely destroyed and devastated all over again.

Isaac became instantly depressed, and much worst this time around because he knew there was no chance of making the Flyers squad this season and who knew when he could lace up for the Phantoms season as well. But thank God for Jim McCrossin who helped Isaac get the right and special care that he needed and got him completely healthy so he could play for the rest of this Phantoms season as well.

Isaac was getting game day dressed for a home game here in Allentown. I sat on the bed and watched/admire him as he fixes his tie in the mirror.

"Try not to worry about tonight so much baby, you are going to absolutely kill it out there like always. Once you get out on that ice, I have no doubt in my mind you will play just like how you used to before all of these setbacks. And just remember that no matter how easy, or how hard tonight’s game is going to be I'll be here for you always. But also, please promise me one thing, that if you don’t feel right to let your staff know immediately because I never want to see you get hurt like this again.” I said walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around his torso.

"I promise babe, I know that I need to take my health more seriously and whatever happens, happens. One day I will make my dream a reality and officially play in the NHL, but for the time being I got to focus on the now and my health." He said as he spun around and kissed me.

Watching Isaac warm up made my heart race and beat fast. But it was all worth seeing him back out there skating with the team and his boys. He looked so good and happy out on the ice and that is all that I could ever ask for.

The journey was extremely hard and long this past summer and fall for both Isaac and I, but in the end it definitely made us a stronger unit in our relationship and it has totally made Isaac a stronger hockey player both physically and mentally.

After the game, I bolted down to the locker room this time excitedly to see my boyfriend, not in a complete shear panic like last time and waited for Isaac to come out after he was done with the media.

The door swung open and I immediately saw Isaac and jumped right into arms like a little high school girl. “Babeee, you were beyond amazing tonight! I am so very proud of you, how are you feeling?” I asked nervously but giddy at the same time.

Isaac picked me up and kissed me ever so passionately before answering any of my questions that I just threw at him. “I felt good and still feel good. It was awesome to be back out on that ice again playing with the boys in front of our home crowd, their excitement and energy helped out a lot. But truthfully, I couldn’t have done any of this without you, y/n. I love you so much and I can’t wait to continue this amazing hockey journey with you right by myside.”

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ninjago-happens-here · 3 years ago

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'Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.'

@ninjago-angst-week am I late or what? Sorry but I think spewing out 21k words over teh course of 3 days killed my motivation. It took 3 days just to write 6.1k words.

Summary:

P.I.X.A.L. notices that the store of bandages is running low. She thinks about all the times she had to use them on one of her teammates, and its purposes.

“Hey Pix! We’re running low on bandages. Can you help us order some before we go to Shintaro?” Nya’s voice came from the medical bay of the Destiny’s Bounty. The Ninja and Master Wu were going on a trip to Shintaro. Unfortunately, Pixal never got an invite, but she has long been used to being left behind. It’s not that it was a bad thing, per se. Pixal knew the importance of having a backup, and having someone watch over Ninjago whilst the Ninja were gone. Still, to distract herself after placing a digital order, she thought about anything that could distract her. That thing just happened to be about bandages.

Bandages. Neat, white little things that wrap around any land or sky creature. According to Wikipedia, a bandage is a piece of material used either to support a medical device such as a dressing or splint, or on its own to provide support to or to restrict the movement of a part of the body. When used with a dressing, the dressing is applied directly to a wound, and a bandage is used to hold the dressing in place. Other bandages are used without dressings, such as elastic bandages that are used to reduce swelling or provide support to a sprained ankle. Tight bandages can be used to slow blood flow to an extremity, such as when a leg or arm is bleeding heavily.

At first, that was all P.I.X.A.L. knew about bandages. Given that she was built with the main purpose of being Cyrus Borg’s assistant, her primary knowledge consisted mostly of the ins and outs of Borg Tower, emergency protocols, customer service skills, and basic first aid, given that her maker was frailer than your average Ninjago citizen.

Of course, the longer she worked under Cyrus Borg, the more she learnt about the medical field. Curious about Mr Borg’s special circumstances, she was permitted to look through the internet for more information. In no time at all, she learnt about surgery, prosthetics, all different kinds of medication, and how to diagnose illnesses. In her given free time, she studied all the information available on the internet about the medical field. Even though the information was useless to her, an android who had no physical weaknesses like the humans do, her system determined that whilst the knowledge was a bit excessive, it only helps to prepare her to care for Mr Borg.

She never really needed to apply all that knowledge about serious and fatal cuts, but when Borg gets even the slightest injury, P.I.X.A.L. was there to offer her assistance.

A year after she had been created, Cyrus Borg had offered her to take a test of the field in medicine. P.I.X.A.L. had immediately felt lighter and better somehow. When asking Borg why she was feeling this way and if robots could get sick, Borg had laughed in surprise and shock.

“That feeling is happiness, P.I.X.A.L.! It’s an emotion that all living creatures feel, you included.”

“But I am not living-“ Mr Borg cut her off.

“Technically, you are right, P.I.X.A.L., but you are intelligence, and intelligence is what defines life. You can adapt, change, and overcome as all living beings do. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise! Because that would be an insult to my intelligence!” Cyrus Borg said encouragingly. “And robots can technically get sick, from a digital virus. But I created you to be strong, stronger than I ever will be. You should not have to worry about them.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded her head to show her understanding. “Then I will go to the exam.”

P.I.X.A.L. didn’t pass on her first try, but Mr Borg told her that it was alright, given that she still did very well considering that she only had the free internet to look for answers to a test she was unprepared for. It was human for her to have failed.

“So why did you send me there with no preparation?” P.I.X.A.L. asked with a shaking voice.

“To prepare you for failure, my dear!” Cyrus Borg said patronisingly. “Since I’ve built you, you’ve been perfect in many, many ways. And that isn’t a bad thing! But life isn’t that simple. You may fail in one way or another in the future because like humans, the circumstances may not be what you desired and plans can fall apart due to errors. What I want you to know is how failure feels like, and I will help you recover from it.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded. It won’t be long before she faced her first, real big failure.

- Lloyd - The first time she had to really apply those skills that she learnt was when the team had seen Lloyd in the village. After he was pulled out of the ocean because he had to escape from an exploding plane that the Digilord had trapped him on. The locals had wanted to help, but Lloyd wasn’t feeling like having strangers cut him up, so they offered him some basic and outdated medical supplies.

P.I.X.A.L. could see him trying to treat himself and to stay awake, and she could see him hiss as the alcohol drizzled on his wounds.

“LLOYD!” Kai shouted in a tone that conveyed panic. This made the young ultimate spinjitzu master look up from his handiwork and immediately break into a smile. As the team had rushed forward to greet him, P.I.X.A.L. could see that his shoulders were sagging, probably from relief.

“I’m so sorry that I got caught guys,” Lloyd wheezed with an apologetic smile before keeling over, to which Cole caught him with shaking hands.

“Oh god, Zane, quick, do your thing!” Kai panicked even harder, hands jittery as if he was in an internal debate about whether he should do something or not. “I’m trying Kai! I just- my hands keep shaking for some reason!” Zane gritted his teeth in frustration. “I’m gonna run some diagnostics on him” “Okay, Cole, lie him on a flat surface- medic! Medic!” Nya screamed out.

It was at this moment that P.I.X.A.L. knew that was her chance. To repay Zane for his heart. To prove to the team that she was useful. To finally implement her knowledge. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll ever have what Zane has with the other humans, but for now, she is glad that she can separate her emotions from her work.

“Let me handle it,” P.I.X.A.L. said authoritatively. Running a scan with her own diagnostics, P.I.X.A.L. isolated the most dangerous injuries before telling the group out loud, staring at her apprehensively.

“Master Lloyd has suffered a concussion, lung damage due to smoke inhalation, and fractured bones in his tibia. He also has a sprained ankle and several bones on his upper chest area have several bruises. Luckily, there is no internal bleeding. He also has some first and second-degree burns, but those look like they have been treated by the ocean water. However, he is at risk of hypothermia should he not change out of those clothes. Other cuts and bruises should not be life-threatening as long as we keep the infection away, and-“

“WE GET IT! Can you just PLEASE start treating Lloyd NOW?” Jay shrieked in frustration. P.I.X.A.L. blinked. Oh right, the ninjas are still panicking.

“Apologies, can I have a look at the medical supplies?” Taking a scalpel out of the medical box, P.I.X.A.L. removed Lloyd Garmadon’s shirt and so multiple bruises as well as the look of someone who’s emancipated. It didn’t really make any sense to her, but she supposed that being drained of his elemental powers must have caused some damage.

“To treat his concussion, he needs peace and to rest. I would like if all of you can speak in whispers from now on,” P.I.X.A.L. began. The soup suddenly looked ashamed and guilty, with Jay whispering a soft ‘sorry’.

“To treat his hypothermia, we would need blankets-“

“Why can’t I just warm him up with fire?” Kai cut across. “Well, the extreme heat can damage the skin or, even worse, cause irregular heartbeats so severe that they can cause the heart to stop. However, starting a campfire some meters away could help a little. using this fire, we can make some warm beverages and some food.”

“Just say what we gotta do doc, we’ll listen!” Nya begged swiftly. P.I.X.A.L. thought for a moment, before choosing to sort people out based on their perceived abilities.

“Kai, Jay, Cole, Sensei Wu, and Sensei Garmadon- please look for blankets in the village and start a campfire over there,” Pointing at a spot a satisfactory distance from Lloyd, P.I.X.A.L. continued with giving instructions. “Start making some sort of soup- not too heavy. Zane, Nya- you’re with me.”

Garmadon, who was silent all this time, started to protest. “I cannot leave my son, Pixal.”

“Fine, you may stay and just keep tending to the campfire,” P.I.X.A.L. conceded, not wanting to waste time arguing. There was the matter of fact that the smoke inhaled by Lloyd Garmadon could be fatal, but there was not much that she could do in his location. All she could hope to do was to treat his minor injuries before ensuring that Lloyd is stable enough to go to a hospital in Ninjago. Which would have been impossible, given that the Digilord had control of the city already. What could she do? Maybe there’s an elemental master of the air who could treat Lloyd?

“Pix, do you not have any ideas on how to treat the smoke inhalation?” Zane looked at her with kind and understanding eyes. Pixal nodded, defeated, before preparing a cast. “We need concentrated oxygen and a nose tube or a tube down his throat. Unfortunately, there is nowhere in Ninjago where we can get to such technology.”

Hearing this, Nya immediately perked up. “But we can make them. Zane, do you have any wires that you can spare for a bit?”

“Redirecting power from the right hand,” Zane replied as he opened up his arm to take out a tube. He’s so self-sacrificing. For some strange reason, P.I.X.A.L. felt her heart beating faster. Maybe Zane was nervous? “Nya, if you could please clean this?”

“Of course. HEY KAI!” “Yeah, sis?” Nya was looking at P.I.X.A.L. expectantly. Oh yes. she was supposed to know this, wasn’t she? “Can you get us 10 cups of potable water and 1 cup of vinegar? Also, get some detergent or soap.” “Okay Pix, not gonna question this at all!”

Meanwhile, Nya was using pure H2O to just start blasting the tubing As much as they wanted Lloyd to not die from smoke inhalation, they also didn’t want him to be infected. Speaking of infections…

“Ow!” Lloyd woke up sleepily as Zane used one hand to dab his cuts. Looking sheepish, Zane immediately offered an apology before Nya cuts in and admitting her mistake.

“Go back to Lloyd,” Nya said, petting his hair. Once Kai had returned with the necessary materials, Nya sanitised her hands before delicately cleaning the tube with 10 parts water and 1 part vinegar.

Tightening the wrappings around Lloyd’s ankle, Pixal studied her handiwork. The splint was holding up nicely against Lloyd’s leg, and all the infections on Lloyd’s legs were taken care of. Seeing as Zane is treating Lloyd well enough, P.I.X.A.L. immediately began to start diagnosing Lloyd’s burns before seeing blood flow from Lloyd’s back.

“Oh, dear.” In her hast, P.I.X.A.L. had forgotten to check Lloyd for injuries from behind. Maybe she wasn’t as professional as she thought. There was no other choice. Looking at Zane firmly, they pushed Lloyd onto his side as he gave a pained groan.

P.I.X.A.L.’s mechanical heart sank. Lloyd had a reason for sitting up without any support. There were several pieces of debris stuck to his back, and they were all pushed in due to them lying Lloyd on the desk. Nya looked up from her task in horror.

“I’m so sorry Lloyd, I didn’t know-“ “Nya, please focus on your task,” P.I.X.A.L. cut her off before she could begin crying. She felt bad, but what’s done was done. Blocking Lloyd from’s Nya’s view, P.I.X.A.L. picked up a pair of tweezers before picking up the small pieces. But the large piece of metal stuck in his shoulder blades- Pixal had to cut Lloyd’s skin to get that out. Eyes narrowing, hardening her resolve- P.I.X.A.L. lightly cut Lloyd’s skin using the scalpel before pulling up a long shard of bloodied glass. Picking up some of the unused water, P.I.X.A.L. quickly cleared Lloyd and the flat-surfaced of their blood. Applying pressure to those wounds would be hard from this angle, so after disinfecting the openings, P.I.X.A.L. took several rolls of bandages before tying them around Lloyd’s chest. Not too tightly, that would further bruise his ribs- but tight enough to ensure a sense of security and staunch the oozing bleeding.

“Zane, do you have an oxygen filter?” Nya asked, having been satisfied by the cleanliness of the tubing. Sanitising her metallic hands, P.I.X.AL. heard Zane sigh before declining.

“I do. Mr Borg wanted us to be at least a little environmentally friendly, given that the Nindroids would be using large amounts of energy every day. So I can filter out excess greenhouse gases in the air and store them in their solid form before giving the raw materials back to Borg Industries,” P.I.X.A.L. offered.

“You’re a lifesaver Pix,” Nya said in relief, handing P.I.X.A.L. the tubing. P.I.X.A.L. smiled. She supposed that she actually was. Opening Lloyd Garmadon’s mouth, P.I.X.A.L. inserted the tubing down his throat with NIndroid precision. Connecting the end to her oxygen filter, P.I.X.A.L. adjusted the settings so that she was inputting air composing of at least 60% oxygen into young Garmadon’s lungs.

As Zane finished applying some frost to Lloyd’s burns, the 3 of them stood there and watched as Lloyd breathed in and out.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll go find what the guys have been doing,” Nya informed their group. “I too will go into the village, but to ensure that we have permission to stay here for the night,” Zane stated, giving a nod to P.I.X.A.L., before walking away into the dusk, right hand locked and useless.

P.I.X.A.L., knowing that she can’t really move, sat next to Lloyd Garmadon as she watched the campfire grow as shrieks from the ninja team rose. At the end of today, all P.I.X.A.L. wanted to do was to just shut down and recharge. She knows she doesn’t need to know that she had half of Zane’s heart (which just skipped another beat for some unknown reason), but all she wants was a break.

Too bad that being a ninja means that you don’t really get to choose when to stop. P.I.X.A.L. thought to herself.

But at least today, I’ve proved my usefulness. I can repay Zane for his heart.

- Kai - Having been stuck alone, disassembled and scrapped, P.I.X.A.L. found that she really, really missed the Ninja team. She also missed Zane, though he was in a cell next to hers. He’s been offline for such a long time, P.I.X.A.L. had fears that he would never wake up.

But he did. And the ninja had rescued them from Chen. But along the way, they had lost Sensei Garmadon, and the year apart had caused some major issues.

Kai doesn’t know that they’re here. But he shouldn’t be here either after Zane had ordered that everyone go to rest after this long day. Still, the glint of red from his eyes even scared P.I.X.A.L., but she would never tell anyone that. She watched as Kai shredded the bandages he wrapped around his hands by destroying a metal training dummy, before turning around to wrap some more.

“Why is he doing that?” P.I.X.A.L. wondered from inside Zane’s head. Zane started whispering, “He… has some anger issues.”

“I get that Zane, I mean why’s he wrapping his hands in bandages?” P.I.X.A.L. corrected herself. Zane quirked an eyebrow but continued with answering P.I.X.A.L.’s questions. “Well, martial artists wear hand wraps and bandages because they can prevent injuries and improve the power of their punches. Wraps and bandages also protect the martial artist’s skin and soften the impact on hard surfaces.”

“I see,” P.I.X.A.L. stated whilst both of them cringed, as Kai delivered a particularly hard blow to the metallic dummy that Zane was supposed to fight with.

“KAI, PLEASE SHUT UP!” came Jay’s voice from down the corridor, moving closer towards them. Zane and P.I.X.A.L. watched in apprehension as Kai breathed heavily, staring down the metallic dummy before all the tension from his shoulders sagged.

The Nindroids watched as Kai cleaned up the training room and head out to use the bathroom to wash up.

“He’s being too hard on himself for the death of Lloyd’s father,” P.I.X.AL. commented blandly. Zane shifted from his position. “I’m afraid that that’s not the only reason. Do you remember Jay telling us that Kai had almost killed both Lloyd and Skylor using Chen’s staff?” P.I.X.A.L. stayed silent.

Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.

- Jay - It was only a few days after Master Wu had been lost in time. Whilst the Ninja team were recuperating and in shock, Pixal has been remotely using Samurai X to patrol the cities whilst maintaining in the current Ninja’s headquarters- the electronic system of Yang’s temple. P.I.X.AL. had really wanted to go full into Samurai X, but she knew that she could not just desert her teammates at this moment. But there wasn’t much she could do, other than counting reps for Lloyd. (You skipped a number, I know what you’re doing Pix, and I ain’t gonna stop training-) helping Jay prepare breakfast (Jay! The pancakes are burning!) or accompanying Zane as he retrieved bits and pieces from all the fighting. (Someone has to clean up Ninjago city, and I guess that that would be me and Samurai X.)

P.I.X.A.L. knew that she shouldn’t be keeping Samurai X a secret, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt a strange sense of duty, and the ability to finally be on the front lines, fighting the same enemies as Zane. And she wanted some secrets to herself.

Still, it surprised her when Jay had demanded her full attention during one of her free times.

“Hey, umm… Pix? Do you- do you think you could maybe check out my left eye?” Jay stammered whilst twiddling his fingers. Pixal was curious, but she’s already moved to Jay’s laptop. “Why do you ask so? Did your eye get hit sometime recently?”

Jay had flinched at the word ‘hit’, but shook his head at the word ‘recently’. Huh. Maybe it was phantom pains? Still, Pixal had run a diagnostic on it.

“I can’t seem to find any physical abnormalities, but if this is a case of phantom pain, over the counter pain relievers should work.”

Jay nodded whilst his eyes were blank seemingly off to another world or lost in his memories.

“Jay? Jay, can you hear me?” Pixal once again ran a diagnostic scan. It seems that Jay was slipping into dissociation. Dimming the lights in his room as well as all the screens the blue ninja had put into his room. Pixal started playing a calm Ninjago lofi mix from the speaker she was in. She gently called Jay’s name and he slipped back into reality.

“Jay, just take 2 doses of ibuprofen. They’re at the lowest shelf at the kitchen counter. If it hurts again, tell me and we’ll bring you to a professional.”

Jay who was nodding at the instructions froze at the thought of being taken to the hospital. Still, he slid off his bed and made his way downstairs. Pixal filtered through the electronic system of the temple, landing new the smart fridge and watched as Jay swallowed 2 pills dry.

It seemed to create some results because Jay stopped shivering and shaking. Pixal wondered if that was just a placebo or an actual effect. Still, watching Jay’s face relax in bliss, free from whatever pain that was bothering him, Pixal knew that she made the right call.

- Nya - S9, fight with SOG

It had been brutal. Pixal was just treating the training injuries Lloyd had when Skylor came into the noodle house, helping Nya to walk as her left arm dangled without any purpose. Immediately, Pixal stood up and took quick strides, scanning Nya for all her injuries.

“We were getting supplies when a bunch of Harumi’s goons jumped on us, we had to be quick so that none of them could call up for back up, when-“ “When- fuck, when this dude pulled out a fucking gun,” Nya said, pained and heaving as Skylor slowly helped her to sit on the training mat.

“So you were shot?” Lloyd’s voice came from behind Pixal as he took the medkit to the mat. Nya eyes looked everywhere but at him. Gesturing to her limp and bleeding arm, she gave up all her dignity. “Yeah, right here.”

“Okay, Nya, here, take these.” Lloyd handed her 2 tablets of ibuprofen and a cup of water. “W-what? No, I can’t take these!” Nya hissed in pain.

“Yes, you can!” “What if we need them later? What if one of us loses an arm or something happens where we have a worse injury?” “That does not matter, Nya. Look, I’ve been shot in Ninjago city before, I know how it feels.”

Pixal immediately flashes back to the nights where she had to help Lloyd through a computer screen, and her metallic fingers curled up. It was horrible, watching him choking down painkillers before trying to pull the bullet out himself. Never again.

“Nya, it would be alright, just take these- we can always go out to get more,” Pixal tried coaxing Nya to just swallow the pills.

“Take them or I’ll force you to take them, Water Ninja.” Skylor admonished. With the combined strength of their motley crew of 3, Nya hesitantly reached for the medicine, almost choking as she had swallowed too much water at one go.

“Okay, good, now we just need to pull the bullet out,” Lloyd reached into the medkit, pulling out a pair of tweezers. Pixal watched as his hands, fatigued from all the trains, couldn’t stop shaking.

“Wait, Lloyd, let me see if the bullet should be removed at all.” Pixal interrupted, taking a more in-depth scan at Nya’s shoulder. In the meantime, Lloyd started to check through Skylor, who said that he was all clear except for a few knuckle bruises. Of course, Pixal would check on her later, but now she had to make sure that Nya would be alright.

“The bullet has missed your major arteries and it actually isn’t in too deep, possibly because of the protection offered by your suit-“ “Just tell me when you’re gonna remove it!” Nya snapped as her brow furrowed in anticipation. “Well, let’s see… first, we need to remove the clothing around the area of the wound, which-“

“AHH!” Nya shrieked as Pixal twisted and pulled out the bullet without any warning. “Sorry Nya, sometimes fear of a thing could be greater than the actual danger that it poses,” Pixal explained as Nya stared at her with a look that could only scream betrayal.

Dropping the bullet to the ground, Pixal took up some disinfectant and sanitised the area around the entry wound. Nya hissed as Pixal gently presses a cotton gauze to stop the bleeding before finally applying some sort of disinfectant cream. She finished off the wound with a bandage around Nya’s arm, with extra padding using gauze at the point where the wound is at.

“Alright, so now you should not move this arm too much for the next few days, and in the next few weeks, you would not be able to raise it over your shoulder. But in a few months, you can use it again and in a year it would be pretty much healed up so that you may do your weight lifting sessions with- with Cole again…” Pixal said, starting brightly but dropping to a small whisper.

The mood suddenly went from cheery to depressive. “Remember to take lots of rest,” Pixal finished lamely. As Lloyd escorted Nya to the sleeping bags they had gathered, Skylor picked up the bullet Pixal had removed.

“Girl, you were quite mean back there,” Skylor began. “And I think that you’re cool. One problem- the pharmacies have not been able to continue business as normal. All the drugs have to be given to the Sons of Garmadon. In the meantime, all supply chains are disrupted. Over the counter medicine won’t be so easy to find. “

Pixal kept quiet. “Well, I’ll have to keep this bullet as a souvenir for Nya. FSM knows that she deserves this.”

Of course, the bullet would be lost later as they were hunted down throughout the city. But every time Nya changed into her swimsuit, Pixal could see the bullet wound. The scarring left wasn’t pretty, but Pixal thought that the courage Nya showed made her the most beautiful woman she’ll ever have the chance to meet.

- Cole- Cole was alive. Cole was alive!

Pixal watched as the Ninja went into a momentary stop before cheering and becoming more alive. She saw Nya pass the Scythe of Earth to Cole, who promptly swung it into the oncoming Oni. Pixal was trying her best to fend off the Oni herself, but her mind, or rather, motherboard, was spinning really, really fast. How did Cole survive? It should have been impossible!

Pixal heard that Cole justify his survival, stating that the Oni clouds must have broken his fall. He didn’t know how he wasn’t attacked at first, but many tendrils then came to attack him.

Still, this was impossible for Pixal to figure out. Was it because Cole had been a ghost? Maybe it was his elemental power protecting him? Or perhaps it was divine intervention? Either way, Pixal was going o scan him later if there was even a later.

“Watch out!” Pixal saw a blast of green hit the Oni in front of her. I can’t afford to get lost in thought now! Come on Samurai X, focus! She chided to herself.

Yet, as the battle once again turned tides, and the elemental masters got together to do the Tornado of Creation, Pixal watched from her position behind the holding doors to see Lloyd Garmadon get thrown out of the tornado, hitting his head with an earth-shattering crack as he collapsed against the walls of the monastery before debris-covered him.

Frantically approaching him, Pixal saw out of the corner of her eye that the rest of the ninja were left dizzy, exhausted, and possibly some having passed out. That was alright. It was time for her to do her duty anyways.

However, whilst lifting slabs of concrete, Pixal felt her heart drop. The calculated survival rate of the impact sent shivers down Pixal’s circuits as the percentage just kept. Dropping. Lower.

Heaving the last piece of concrete off the young bearer of green power, Pixal heard her teammates rushing into the scene. She could have warned them, said something, said anything. But her joints were frozen in place with something much colder than what her sensors had detected when she went into the Oni cloud.

The motley crew, now only 5, took the last piece of debris off from their teammate.

“Lloyd. Buddy, wake up,” Kai pleaded, desperate. “He-He's not moving!” Nya exclaimed, voice shaking as tears start to form. She looked at Pixal, asking for anything, anything at all. “Someone find Wu. Where’s Wu?” Cole ordered.

In no time, Master Wu arrived and lifted Lloyd’s arm, checking his pulse. He would find nothing there.

“You can do something, right? Right?!” Jay panicked. With a defeated look that Pixal knows is mirrored in her eyes, Wu shook his head and said, “There’s nothing to be done.” Nya finally cries out, sobbing. “Oh, Lloyd!”

PIxal wanted to cry as well, but she never could. When rebuilding her body, she had used the same blueprints that Cyrus Borg had with some upgrades. One thing she didn’t consider adding was the ability to cry because there wasn’t any time. She had to save Lloyd from the vermillion. But what she can’t save Lloyd from, was from an early- early- d… fate.

There’s nothing Pixal could do. And she felt hopeless.

She watched from the corner of her eye as Garmadon backed away from their small group, and in a flash, she felt her wires burning. She couldn’t just let him leave. Not after what he’s done.

Yet, just as she was about to boost straight towards the Oni and tackle him off the mountain, Lloyd started to cough. Lloyd. Started to cough.

Whipping around to see a golden petal float away, she watched the team cheer as Lloyd started to breathe. How- this was impossible! Pixal almost short-circuited from shock. There had been no way! No way! She didn’t even go through all 5 stages of grief yet.

And not too soon, Lloyd woke up from a sleep that she was sure that he never would.

Catching him mumbling something about the First Spinjitzu Master, Pixal smiled. Divine intervention had definitely happened at least once today. The first time being….

“Cole, please come with me to the med bay,” Pixal requested with a smile. Divine intervention or not, five-sixths of the Ninja team knows how to hide a serious injury, and she had to be certain. Cole, who looked shopped, resigned himself and walked with Pixal o the medical centre. For now, she trusted that Zane was doing all the scans that he could to make sure that Lloyd was right in the head, and sought out to take care of her own, albeit selfish, worries.

Scanning Cole on both sides, Pixal noticed a particular bad bruise on Cole’s spine. Yet falling from that height and the fact that Cole isn’t paralysed due to spinal injury made Pixal reaffirm her theories that the First Spinjitsu Master was alive, just in another realm.

“You know, Lloyd might have actually seen the First Spinjitsu Master,” Pixal began, which led Cole to choke on the water he was ordered to drink. “No way, he must have just hit his head hard…”

“I’m sorry Cole, but the injuries you have is comparable to sleeping on a rock hard bed for one night, not falling from a height of 500m, even if your fall was broken by the Oni cloud, you should still have been paralysed,” Pixal explained.

“So God is real and Lloyd’s sharing a fourth of his blood? Neat! Next time tell him to not scare us with a fake-out,” Cole brushed it off.

At this time Pixal was about the shutdown and delve deep into theorising. Lloyd technically had a fourth of his grandfather’s blood and possessed the same power, could he possible have powers that control life and death-

Yet, she watched as a steady stream of Ninja enter the medbay, and resolved her thoughts to her inner GPU. She can think later. For now, she had to make sure that everyone is okay, and everyone will be okay. Even if she threatens Loyd to shave his head so she can get a better look at his skull, to which a chase around the monastery ensued. Her family was alright for now, and the concerning mortality of humans was left deep in the recesses of her mind.

- Zane - Too soon, Pixal had to face her own mortality. Being a Nindroid, her lifespan would naturally be much longer than a Ninja’s. But she still could be erased, dismantled, destroyed, sent to another realm-

The days waiting for the group of 6, not 5, to come back were some of the hardest. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to shut down, lie on her bed and stare into the picture they had taken on their first date, Pixal knew that the team was entrusting her to keep Ninjago safe. Even if it means recapturing escaped convicts. Even if it means fighting the… undead-dead Preeminent (Pixal still hasn’t figured out how she worked). And they had to find ways to reach the Never Realm, by going through different infusions of travellers tea.

Yet, all the waiting and longing was worth it. Pixal prefers a Zane stuck in another realm for 40 years as to no Zane. There was no other choice. Yet, as she sees her loved ones trudging out of the frosty realm, some of them had worst frost bites than others. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to smother Zane in a hug, she can see the edges of Lloyd’s skin turning a deep, dark black. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Nya taking care of Cole whilst Jay and Kai attempt to remove the ice from everyone else, including lubricating Zane’s frosted joins. She had not a single moment to lose. This kind of frostbite was not exactly lethal immediately, but losing limbs could mean the end of Lloyd’s ninja career. So calling everyone to attention, she went all in to salvaging Lloyd’s limbs, doing everything she could.

Later that night, Pixal spotted Zane wandering around the outskirts of the monastery whilst the Ninja finish up dinner. She watched as Zane’s hands gripped the staff so tight that the wood would be snapping in 3…2…1.

A harsh crack and splinters flying out later, Pixal could see the shaking in Zane’s hands as he cursed, something that the Zane she knew never would.

For her, it had been a hellish week. But for Zane? It must have been a hellish 40 years.

“…Zane?” Pixal called out from the monastery doors. Zane immediately whipped around before pointing the tip of the staff towards her, to which Pixal reflectively grabbed. Zane, eyes widening in shock and horror, immediately released his grip on the now shorter staff, before turning around, trying to run away. Pixal won’t let that happen.

“Zane,” Pixal said once again, hand now gripping onto the collar of Zane’s Gi. “Please don’t run away from me.”

Zane, froze, hands twitching before dropping them to his side. Pixal released her grip before tapping Zane on the shoulder, asking him to turn around.

“Pixal, I’m- I’m sorry…I just can’t- I can’t trust myself right now,” Zane vented out hands fidgeting with each other. Pixal smiled sadly. She knew that not everything could go back to normal so fast, but still, she had hoped that it would have been easier than this. “If you don’t trust yourself right now, why not spend some time with me?”

“Pixal- I…I could hurt you-“ “Yes you can, but don’t think that I can’t protect myself,” Pixal snapped back whilst carefully reaching to hold Zane’s hands. Once she made contact, Zane flinched back, before slowly reciprocating the action. “C’mon Zane, let’s go back into the monastery-“

“No!” Zane protested, wrenching Pixal back. Pixal clasped her other hand on top of Zane’s. “Not to the dining room. I’m thinking med bay.”

Pixal could see Zane’s processing unit cycle through his thoughts, noticing that it had considerable frost damage. Before long, Zane nodded his head, allowing Pixal to pull him into the light.

Opening the cupboards, Pixal took out a few rolls of bandages before carefully wrapping them around Zane’s hands. The ice ninja watched with curiosity as Pixal carefully finished tying and tightening the strips of cloth.

“Why are you doing this? You and I both know that Nindroids don’t need bandages,” Zane asked. Pixal smiled, looking at Zane’s now steadier hands. “Maybe bandages can’t fix our metal skin, but it still makes us feel better.”

Zane paused, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know how you’re right PIx, but they do make me feel more sure that my powers won’t hurt anyone accidentally. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get back to dinner, we have some desserts to bring out.”

Bandages. As much as PIxal uses them and finds them efficient, she can’t help but hope that team doesn’t need to use as many. But this time, t’s just a trip to a legendary city full of peace and prosperity. Maybe this time, Pixal doesn’t need to bandage their wounds away.

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sneezyminniejo · 3 years ago

Text

All in the Timing

This was requested on AO3

Felix gets injured during practice

TW injury

The members of the Mayfly dance unit were gathered in KQ Entertainment's practice room eating the ice cream Peniel ordered. They were also beginning discussions on what they wanted to do for their performance.

"I think it would be awesome if Peniel hyung is like commanding a bunch of dogs on leashes." Minho said. The others were quick to agree.

There was a whole host of conversation on the choreo, when San chimed in "What if one of us jumps off a platform and lands in another's arms." Everyone started to murmur in excitement at the thought of the stunt and immediately began planning out the details.

After some deliberation, it was decided that Felix would be the one to jump, while Wooyoung would catch him. The nine members then began discussing the logistics of the jump.

They decided that Wooyoung would be braced by four or five dancers, while Felix would get a running start before jumping into the older man's arms. It was also decided that four dancers would prop Felix up until he could practice on the actual set.

The practices at the studio had been going swimmingly. There was one moment where Wooyoung nearly dropped Felix, but no one got hurt. It just caused the duo to be more determined to practice the jump.

After another long day of practice, the five Ateez members invited the other four over to their dorm for dinner. Peniel declined, as he needed to get back to his own apartment for some rest before recording his podcast. Minho and Jeongin also declined, having already made plans with some of their friends. Minho merely told Felix to be back at the dorm by a reasonable hour and left it at that.

When the six men arrived at the Ateez dorm, they all got comfortable on the couch as they discussed what to have for dinner. Seonghwa insisted on making something and eventually got Felix to choose what. Seonghwa then moved to the kitchen to begin making dinner.

As Seonghwa was preparing dinner the other two Ateez members returned home and were equally ecstatic that Felix was joining them for dinner. “I know Minho hyung said that you should get back to your own dorm at a reasonable time, but you guys were also talking about how your first schedule is coming here for practice, so why don’t you just sleep over? It’ll save you the headache of travelling.” Jongho had said at one point. Soon after the others were humming in agreement about how it made more logical sense to just stay over.

Felix pondered for a minute. “I would need to borrow some clothes, but as long as I text Chan-hyung, I should be able to stay the night with no problems.” He quickly texted Chan and Minho just in case Chan was too absorbed in his own work and quickly got a thumbs up emoji in response from both of them.

“Hyung says I can stay the night, but I’m going to need to borrow somebody’s clothes for the night, and tomorrow.” Everyone was excited and the others were quick to figure out who’s clothes Felix could borrow and the sleeping arrangements for the night before they continued to eat their dinner.

At some point after dinner, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had decided to go to their rooms. Hongjoong to get some writing done, and Seonghwa wanted to continue reading a book he was in the middle of. That left the 99 liners and the 00 liners in the living room.

The six men were sitting in the living room chatting and the five members of Mayfly’s dance unit started to tell Jongho about the jump they had planned for their choreography.

“I almost dropped him last time Jongie. I feel like we need more practice, but we need four people to hold me up and four more to prom Felix up since we don’t have the platform yet.” Wooyoung pouted slightly as he was complaining to his dongsaeng. Jongho was listening intently to his hyung then got an idea.

“Hyungs, we have enough people to practice the jump right here.” The others stared at him a moment, then San motioned for him to continue. “ We could all hold up Wooyoungie hyung, and Felix could run off the couch.” The first person to move was Felix, who immediately jumped on the couch and started making power stances. The others moved some things out of the way then worked together to figure out how to properly brace Wooyoung.

One the 99 liners and Jongho were confident in having Wooyoung properly braced, Wooyoung gave Felix the go ahead to run off the couch and jump into his arms. Felix made sure he was on the opposite end of the couch from where he was going to jump, then he started running.

When Felix jumped off the armrest of the couch, his foot slipped, making it so he didn’t have a firm stance when he leapt into the air. Since Felix didn’t have a firm stance when he jumped, he was also unable to properly land in Wooyoung’s arms.

It almost happened in slow motion. Felix felt his ankle twinge weirdly when he jumped, and again when it accidentally hit Yunho’s side. Wooyoung is holding onto Felix’ shirt as if his life depended on it. However because Felix didn’t land properly, Wooyoung didn’t have a proper grip on the younger, practically taking off Felix’ shirt in the process.

Wooyoung quickly got out of the grasp of the others, and they all went to assess both Yunho and Felix. Yunho wasn’t very hurt. Felix hadn’t kicked very hard at all. It was more of his foot digging into his side a little as he fell than it was a kick. Felix on the other hand was sitting on the ground holding foot up to his chest.

“Felix-ah, are you hurt?” San asked, somewhat rhetorically since the younger was cradling one of his feet. Felix nodded as tears began to emerge from his eyes. “I think I twisted my ankle.” Yeosang quickly ran to the kitchen to get some ice, while San and Jongho helped Felix stand up. As soon as Felix tried to put some weight on his foot, he hissed in pain and brought his foot back into the air as he was helped to the couch. Meanwhile Wooyoung went to go get Hongjoong and Seonghwa, so they could be informed that their guest was injured.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were quick to leave their rooms to see what the damage was. Seonghwa took a look at Felix’ ankle and agreed that it was most likely sprained. Wooyoung was messaging Minho to tell him Felix was injured, while Hongjoong was doing the same thing with Chan.

Hongjoong and Wooyoung both assured Chan and Minho respectively that Felix had ice on his ankle and that they had bandages to wrap it up in later. The two Ateez members sighed as they put down their phones and went to help out.

Wooyoung went to the bathroom to get the bottle of paracetamol and a glass of water. When he returned to the living room, he handed the medicine to the younger and began propping his foot up on the throw pillows that had been thrown to the floor when they practiced their stunt.

“So all Wooyoung told us was that Felix had injured his ankle. He didn’t tell us how. Would anyone care to enlighten us?” Seonghwa asked the group, giving them a very stern look, daring them to lie to him. Felix was the one to confess. “We were practicing the stunt for our Mayfly performance. I got the timing wrong when I jumped off the couch.” Seonghwa just about face palmed upon hearing what happened. Instead he sighed exasperatedly and sat down next to the younger.

“We need to keep your foot elevated tonight, and you probably shouldn’t put any weight on it for the next few days.” Seongwha paused and gave everyone a stern look before continuing, “That means no practicing the choreo or the stunt for Felix.” The others were quick to nod their heads in understanding. Satisfied, Seonghwa turned on the tv and told the others to get ready for bed. Hongjoong had just returned from their storage closet holding a pair of crutches from the last time one of them had injured their leg.

“Here Felix, this way you can get around our dorm without having to put any weight on your foot and no one will have to carry you.” Felix thanked the older, glad that he wouldn’t have to be carried around until he got back to his own dorm. It wasn’t long after that the others returned to the living room. They watched tv for a little while before deciding that it was time for bed. The members of the dance unit were all thinking similar things, ‘dance practice will be interesting tomorrow.’

The following day Felix, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung guiltily waited for the others to arrive. Minho and Jeongin were the first to enter the room. Both members went over to Felix to see how his ankle was. “Hyung, I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt as much today as it did yesterday, and I can move my ankle just fine. It primarily hurts if I try to put weight on it.” Felix demonstrated by rotating his ankle, showing zero discomfort. Minho sighed in relief, as that meant it wasn’t a severe injury.

A few minutes later, a completely oblivious Peniel entered the practice room. Peniel felt the tension as soon as he walked in. “What’s with all the tension? I could cut it with a knife.” Peniel joked before he zeroed in on Felix’ propped up ankle with a set of crutches at his side.

“What happened to Felix?” Peniel asked Minho. Minho shrugged, “Ask him, he slept over with Ateez last night and we got a message from Hongjoong and Wooyoung saying he got hurt and he probably wouldn’t be able to practice for a few days. Peniel looked at Felix, Concern etched on his face.

Felix Sheepishly looked down at his hands as he answered. “Funny you should mention practice. We decided to practice the jump last night at the dorm and my timing was a bit off. When I jumped off the couch, my foot slipped and Wooyoung wasn’t able to catch me.”

“Felix, did you learn nothing from the monkey’s who jumped on the bed?” Peniel asked. Felix chuckled a little at Peniel’s joke. “Nice one, but in my defence, I was jumping off a couch doing a stunt, not jumping on a bed with no regards to my surroundings.” Felix then high fived Peniel, glad that the older wasn’t mad at him. The others were a bit confused at what the two native English speakers were talking about, but decided not to question it in favor of practicing.

The day of the Kingdom performance, Felix’ ankle was almost completely healed. Throughout all the preparation Felix and Wooyoung decided that they were going to do the stunt, even though they hadn’t had as much practice as they would have liked. Felix had been dancing just fine throughout the entirety of the performance, but when it came time for his stunt, he had become nervous and hoped he wouldn’t re-injure his ankle.

As Felix was running across the platform, he hoped with all his might that he would get the timing correct and land safely in Wooyoung’s arms. Unknowingly to Felix, Chan had been watching worriedly in the SKZ waiting room and had actually worriedly said Felix’ name out loud in concern when it came time for the jump. To his, and everyone else’s relief, Felix landed squarely in Wooyoung’s arms. The members of the other three groups didn’t know that Felix did the stunt on an injured ankle and were even more impressed when they found out.

After Mayfly was done with all of their performances, Eunkwang bought ice cream for everyone.

#hurt/comfort #stray kids #ateez #btob #kingdom legendary war #sickfic

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lulaypp · 4 years ago

Text

Note: While this is meant as a mini follow-up of my Three Dark Walls And A Collar, it can be read seperately.

Warnings: Panic, Flashbacks, Mentioned Nightmares, Referrenced Torture, Injuries

----

Nightmares were common for them. Far from pleasant, but definitely not a rarity.

Jason bit his lip as he panted, his chest sore as he tried to control his rapid breaths. The night light by his bed softly illuminated the room enough to stave off part of his panic as he fumbled to untangle himself from his sheets.

It had been a week after Black Mask had caught him. Dick and Alfred had deemed Jason well enough to leave the med bay but not the manor, which was fine by him. At least he got to stay in his own room without people crowding around him all day long. But as peaceful as the solitude was, it made nightmares a bit harder to wrangle down. Even so, it was nothing he wasn't used to. He had been living alone with his nightmares for years.

But it would be easier without the rain and flapping branches outside, a storm brewing quick and heavy.

His breaths and heartrate were still running fast by the time he settled under the blanket again. His healing ribs were protesting at his movements and curled up position, but he stubbornly tucked his knees to his chest. He kept his eyes on his dim nightlight, trying to ignore the non-existent smell of mud, the shadow that clung to the far walls and the solid pressure on his neck.

The rain pattered heavily onto the window and he could almost hear the sound of the drops hitting the earth and grass despite being indoors and far too high up. Nearby tree branches rapped against each other and onto the brick walls as the wind swept them back and forth. If the pitch is heightened up a notch and the sound sharpened, it could almost sound like-

Jason sucked in a breath, blinking away images of a glass wall standing far too close and pulled the sheets tighter around him. It frustrated him to no end that the effects of his short-lived captivity still lingered in his mind, randomly throwing him to little fits of panic. He understood that it was natural and normal, even for his insane family of vigilantes and ex-assassins-in-training, but it always bugged him.

He could hardly stand any sort of sharp clicking anymore. He discovered that the hard way after he was helping Dick looking over a case and he had been idly fiddling with a retractable pen. He had been putting it back together after dismantling it when there was a strong pressure on his neck and the pen’s clicks grew louder. On hindsight, he felt rather foolish for accidentally triggering himself, but at least he knew that now and avoided all computers and clicking stationaries.

In the privacy of his bedroom, he allowed himself a soft whimper, trying to will himself back to sleep yet attempting to stay away from it with equal measure. He was exhausted, but he was tired of nightmares. At the most, if he got tired in the morning, he'll get a nap once the storm blows over. Maybe Damian would be generous enough to be a pillow.

Thunder split the tapping at his window and he jumped, burrowing further into his thick blanket. His chest was throbbing horribly and the injuries littering his arms were aching. His still-kind-of-broken fingers screamed from where he was clutching at the sheets, but he didn't let up his tight grip.

His neck hadn't yet healed. It probably had suffered the worst damage, along with his throat. The collar had left burns from where the metal had charged volts straight onto his skin and his trachea had been mangled after suffering repeated strangling pressure. It wasn't as bad now, but Alfred had insisted to leave it bandage-wrapped to help the healing process. No one mentioned the fact that it also deterred Jason from accidentally clawing at the burns and scratches, be it during his nightmares, panic attacks or absentmindedly. He didn't quite appreciate having something around his neck, but he understood the benefits.

His sight was blurring slightly and he hoped that it was sleep finally coming to take him again. Until he realised that it was just his breathing running out of control. Air was shallowly entering his lungs at a quick pace, his neck turning fiery.

He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly worked himself back from near-hyperventilation. The noise outside was really starting to get into him. He doubted he could get any sleep right now. Especially not a decent one.

With his mind made up, he gathered his large, fluffy blanket more firmly around himself and shuffled out of bed. He gingerly rested his weight onto his injured ankle before slowly making his way to the door and out into the corridor, a headache slowly brewing the longer he stayed up. After a short pause at the top of the stairs to catch his breath and right his tilting vision, he carefully limped down and crossed multiple winding hallways before finally reaching the kitchen. Which was, unfortunately, occupied.

His headache was reaching a brain-pinching level and he had been too focused on not tripping over his blanket and his own feet that he didn't realise the other person, jumping when a deep voice greeted him.

"Jason? Are you supposed to be up?"

Jason blinked at the hazy figure approaching him. "Bruce? When did you get back?" As far as he was aware, Bruce was supposed to be on an outer space mission with Justice League and wasn't due back until a few days. Maybe Jason was actually asleep and dreaming.

He let Bruce push him onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. Bruce took a seat right beside him before answering, "Just over an hour ago. What are you doing up this late?"

Jason scowled, realising that he probably looked a little pathetic, childishly wrapping himself in his fluffy blanket. "'m not a kid." His throat decided now to remind him that talking was still not a wise thing to do. "'s'not like it is that late either."

"It is four in the morning and you are injured. You're not shouldn't walk around with a sprained ankle."

Just because that was true, didn't mean that Jason would agree, even if his leg did. "That was days back. Besides, it is not like you can judge how badly I'm hurt and what I can and not do just by staring at me for-"

"I read the reports, Jay. Damian told me what happened last week which is why I came back early."

"At least I'm not stupid enough to fling myself back onto the streets." Jason rolled his eyes, huffing as he leaned against the counter. He tried to ignore the blooming warmth bubbling inside him at the thought of Bruce coming back from space just because he was hurt. "I'm fine and old enough to take care of myself, old man."

Bruce's lips were pressed into an unhappy line but he let the silence reign over them. Jason had forgotten why had he thought going downstairs it was a good idea, regretting it now that his head and leg were throbbing.

Just as he was weighing the pros and cons of getting up to make himself tea, Bruce spoke up.

"Is there any reason why you decided to come down to the kitchen?"

Too tired to make up a lie or to deflect, Jason mumbled as he tried to make himself comfortable with his head on the counter top, legs tucked under himself and the blanket firmly covering him. "Couldn't sleep." The marble tile was cool against his forehead and he closed his eyes, burying his nose into his soft blanket.

He didn't see Bruce coming closer, but fingers were running lightly through his hair. While they were nice, it also meant that the man definitely noticed the supressed jump when a loud thunder cracked and rumbled. The sound made him aware of the noise again, the insistent pattering of rain drops.

The blanket around him shifted slightly before Bruce said, "C'mon. Let's get somewhere more comfortable."

Jason didn't quite feel like moving, finally finding a position comfortable enough that his ribs wouldn't protest, his back wouldn't hurt and he wouldn't fall off the small stool, so he stayed put. But the decision was made for him when he was ripped away from the counter. He blinked in surprise, taking a while to realise that Bruce was lifting him up before leaving the kitchen.

He wriggled in Bruce's arms. "Bruce, put me down. I'm an adult and heavier than you are. You don't get to carry me."

Bruce only held tighter the more Jason struggled. "Well maybe I don't get to carry you, but you get to be carried and seeing as I am the only one around..." Bruce was obviously hiding a teasing smile.

Jason huffed, resigned to the relative comfort, and closed his eyes. Just as he thought sleep might come to him, another lightning split the darkness of the hallway as thunder shook the windows they passed. He pressed his head into Bruce shoulder, heart running loud in his ears. Dirt was tacky on his tongue and bandages around his neck felt suffocating. His chest ached worse with the effort to keep his breathing even and his head was spinning. His fingers reached up to assure himself that the thing strangling him wasn't metal.

Something squeezing his shoulder startled him. It was Bruce's hand rubbing and lightly patting, the angle awkward from where it crept up from under Jason's shoulder. He felt momentarily embarrassed at the thought of Bruce noticing his spiralling panic but the feeling was gone when the thundering outside kicked up again.

"How was space?" He probably shouldn't be making small talk with his sore throat, but he really wanted something to overlap the storm.

Bruce must have caught up on that as he started talking. A lot for a man whose native languages were incoherent grunts and growls. "It wasn't really eventful. I don't really see why I was brought along since it was a negotiation mission and the Lanterns and Clark could have handled that on their own, but I assumed that they wanted me for the budget handling."

As Bruce went on about funding and budgets, Jason closed his eyes, paying little attention to the words but wholly to the voice and tone. He never thought he'd ever willingly listen to Bruce drone on about finances of all things, yet here he was feeling comforted by it.

By the time Bruce stopped, Jason was already in a half-asleep daze. He felt himself getting lowered and blinked slowly to take in his surroundings. It was darker now, but the blurry silhouette of Bruce pulled him back from any rising fear. The sound of the storm was also gone. Where were they?

His blanket was pulled away from his loosening grip and he was about to protest when it was adjusted to properly drape over him. "Where're we?" he mumbled. The surface under him didn't feel like a bed so it couldn't be his or Bruce's room. And the place lacked any windows. Not to mention that it had to be deep enough in the manor to block out the noise of thunder.

"Theatre room." Bruce was hovering somewhere in front of him, fingers running through his hair.

"Oh." That made sense. The theatre room was designed to be relatively soundproof.

His eyes were slipping close when a kiss was pressed to his forehead. Call it placebo, but he felt his headache starting to clear away from that one gesture. He let out a contented sigh, melting into the figurative warmth around him.

"Sleep, chum. I'll be right here." Bruce shifted closer, pulling off what felt like a makeshift hug while still keeping his carding fingers as he started humming a tune.

Jason heard himself mumbling something in response as he pressed into Bruce's shoulder, eyes closing and breaths evening out.

#Fanfiction #Batfam #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Red Hood #Batman #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Follow-ups/Sides #I wanted to have Jason shuffling about with a giant fluffy blanket after a nightmare #and at the same time I felt like giving 3 Dark Walls a sort of continuation just because I like it #put together and it turned into this.'#IT REALLY IS LONGER THAN I INTENDED #I'M KINDA SORRY BUT NOT SO MUCH #I honestly thought that it was just 1K at most #But it is apparently........... 2K #How?#But hey! at least it has comfort!#:D

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chaseatinydream · 4 years ago

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pirate king (80) || atz

The deck is sheer chaos.

All you hear are the frantic footsteps pounding across the deck as the crew race to sail as fast as possible, the sounds of the cannons being loaded, Mingi’s sharp commands and Yunho screaming orders to trim the sails from above. Still crushed to Wooyoung’s chest, you tap him on the shoulder and he looks down at you, eyes brimming with concern.

“Just let me down somewhere, I’ll-”

“Wooyoung! Some of the halyards of the fore topsail has gotten caught, I need you to come with me and free it.” Yunho lands lightly next to the two of you, face unnaturally drawn with worry and flushed from exertion. “Chin Hae, are you alright?”

You manage a smile for him, though your legs both feel like they’re on fire and you’re missing a hand. “As alright as we’re going to get in this situation. Wooyoung, go with him, I’ll be fine on my own.”

He looks doubtful, but relinquishes his grip on you slightly. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

With a sigh, he sets you down and you nearly stagger, biting your lip at the pain that shoots through your legs. Even Yunho looks concerned, reaching out to steady you by the shoulder. “This is definitely not okay. We should take you to the-”

“You have more important things to worry about than a sprained ankle, now shoo!” You push the two of them lightly towards the forecastle deck. “I’m not an invalid, I can get myself to the infirmary on my own. Now go!”

With a final look back, Wooyoung and Yunho take off running for the masts, while you turn around and make your way towards the infirmary, gritting your teeth with each step. However, before you can so much as pass the main mast, the entire ship heels - and you’re thrown across the deck.

Your feet practically fly out from under you, and you go rolling like a log across the main deck, arms wrapped instinctively around your head to protect it. Fortunately, you’re lucky enough to crash into a pile of netting used for storage, and for a second, you simply sit there, tangled in the rope and your head ringing.

Shouts of panic and cries of pain fill the air, Mingi’s bellows interspersed somewhere in between. You can’t think straight.

What on earth just-

Yanking the netting out of the way as you stumble to your feet, you glance over at the port side of the ship - and your mouth falls open when you discover the cause of all this mess.

Another pirate ship, one that had been docked beside you, is pulling up right next to the Treasure. An awful scraping sound fills your ears as the hulls of both ships grate against each other, and the entire of the Treasure shudders at the contact. You very nearly fall over again as the deck quivers beneath your feet, but clutch onto the side of the ship for balance.

“Chin Hae!” You hear Jongho shout and whip around to see the young battlemaster dashing towards you. You step forward to meet him, one hand on the main mast to hold steady as the ship groans. “What the hell is that other ship doing-”

Right before you can answer, a dark shape flies between the two of you, so fast that you could mistake it for a trick of light. But no trick of light could cause the awful cracking sound right next to your head, nor the scent of gunpowder so sharp in your nose.

“Attach the hooks!” You hear shouting from the crew of the other ship, and your eyes widen when you see them swarming over towards the bulwarks, throwing long grappling hooks over to the Treasure and pulling taut.

“Chin Hae, get your head down!” The younger man is next to you in an instant and in before you can so much as blink, another musket shot whizzes across your head. You stare at him, wide eyed. “What is happening?”

“That other ship just started attacking us out of the blue, I don’t know.” Jongho says hurriedly, thrusting a cutlass into your hands. “They’re trying to board us for some reason, but we need to get out of here!”

You can almost hear the rudder creak as Mingi shouts orders to adjust the sails so that the Treasure can pull away, but the other ship clings on like a leech. “We’re all going to die at this rate if the Royal Navy catches up with us!”

A sinking sensation worms its way into your belly. “Don’t tell me that they’re still trying to capture me?”

Jongho curses under his breath. “You need to get to the infirmary before they find to you. I need to clear the boarding hooks before they get on deck. Can you handle yourself?”

This reminds you of the first battle you had witnessed at sea, when still had no name. It’s the same, yet different - you’re different now. All you could back then was run and hide in fear.

You’re not that person any longer. You’re part of the crew, and you won’t allow yourself to be a burden to them.

Your legs still feel like someone has replaced your bones with molten iron, but you give a determined nod. “Yeah.” Gripping the cutlass in your hands, you turn to Jongho and give him the best smile you can manage. “Just like the good old times, huh?”

“I don’t see how the situation we’re in seems remotely good in the least, but you’re free to stay positive if that’s what helps you stay alive.” Jongho’s expression is flat, but you catch the small quirk at the side of his mouth before he leaps over a rolling barrel that you narrowly manage to dodge. “It’s good you don’t have a musket on you this time, though.”

With that, he leaps over a stray rolling barrel and you pause for a moment, confused.

Musket...?

Then you remember, cheeks heating up and the shout of ‘Jongho!’ that leaves your mouth is only met with a chuckle carried by the wind. Shaking your head, you turn to make your way to the infirmary when the deck heaves once more under your feet.

“Ahh!”

You drop onto the deck immediately like a suntanning starfish, and by sheer luck you manage to not get thrown into the bulwarks again. The enemy ship must have rammed you again, you realise, but before you can think too far, you hear an awful sound - of metal snapping. Clambering unsteadily to your feet, you glance around for the source of the noise.

There’s a scream of pain, the sound of something breaking, and to your horror, you realise it’s the sound the a bone snapping.

You’re up and running even before you know it towards the sound. It had come from the port side of the ship, where the gunners and the cannon carriages are mounted. And when you catch sight of the situation, you almost throw up there and then.

A member of the gun crew is lying on the deck, shrieking his head off in agony and for good reason - his leg is crushed under the weight of a 24 pounder cannon.

You rush over to him immediately, knees hitting the ground painfully hard as you lower yourself to check over his injuries. The sight almost makes your stomach turn, bile rising up in the back of your throat at the stench of blood and gunpowder, but you force it down in order to look at where most of the damage has been done - his leg.

“One of the chain links holding the gun carriage in place snapped when they hit us.” Another of the gun crew babbles senselessly over the cries of his crewmate and the desperate reassurances the rest try to give him, and you glance at the long iron weapon to see that he is right. “He must have fallen over and gotten crushed then, but we didn’t know what to do-”

“It’s alright,” you try to say, as calmly as possible when your head is in blank panic, trying to take bearing of your surroundings. Wound first, you think, looking down at what you have on your hands.

The wood of the deck is soaked red with blood. The gun carriage has torn the flesh of his thigh into ragged shreds, so deep you can see glimpses of stark white bone from beneath. Even as you watch, blood oozes out of the wound and the sharp smell of iron makes nausea well up in your stomach.

Where’s San? You think almost desperately, hand shaking at the sheer amount of blood. You’ve never dealt with a wound so serious, and you desperately need guidance. But your master is nowhere to be seen, likely treating other wounded on the deck, and from the way the terrified gun crew are staring at you, you’re the only guidance around here.

“O-one of you,” your voice trembles slightly and you swallow, forcing your nerves under control. “Get my supplies from the infirmary, the rest of you, start ripping up your shirts into strips.” You shrug your own overshirt from your shoulders and press it against the wound, trying your best to stem the blood flow.

Just as you’re about to switch out the bandage and instruct one of the gun crew to feed the patient a painkiller, you hear a scream from the starboard side and pale immediately, recognising the sound of clashing steel. They’ve boarded, and another voice rings out in the chaos. “Find the woman! We’ll be pardoned if we hand her up to the Royal Navy!”

Realisation slaps you in the face as you remember just what exactly you are supposed to be doing - hiding in the infirmary. Horror rises up in you, and you shift, almost in an attempt to run, before the blood on your hand reminds you why exactly you can’t.

The man here is dying, and you’re the only one here who knows anything remotely close to how save him.

“Shouldn’t you hide? They’re looking for you.” A crewmate tugs at your sleeve urgently, concern spilling into his voice. “We’ll figure something out here, but who knows what they’ll do to you once they get their hands on you? Go!”

You bite your bottom lip, mind thinking frantically as you press down on the wound. There’s no way they’ll figure this out, the man right now is probably about to start knocking on death’s door. On the other hand, do you really want the Royal Navy to catch you? Cold sweat forms at your temples at the very thought of it.

And yet, you can’t tear yourself away from the person dying in front of you.

“If they’re coming after me, the lot of you better protect me then.” Is all you say before you instruct another of the gun crew to hold a stick in place so you can tie in place an emergency tourniquet. The men look a little terrified. “We might not be able to protect you! We’re gunners, we’re not much trained in swordsmanship!”

“Then I guess we’re all dying here.” You say, concentrating on yanking down hard on the bandage to secure the knot as tightly as possible. You can’t tie it too tight or the man might lose his leg forever, but at this point, between losing his leg and his life, you think he’d prefer to save the latter.

The gun crew exchange glances, before they draw their swords, one of them rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “How are we supposed to be cowards when you talk like that?”

You manage a small chuckle, before returning your attention to the wound. The man’s eyes are half lidded now, drifting in and out of reality from the blood loss. At this rate, he’s going to end up dead, and you swallow nervously. Should you use the healing techniques San taught you or not? What if the same thing happens like the last time with Yeosang, except this time, you actually die?

The sound of steel clashing and people screaming rings throughout the air, punctuated by sound of musket shot and

The face of a certain man forms in your mind. No, you can’t allow yourself to die.

But you can’t let the man before you die either.

Sucking in a deep breath, you stretch out your one hand over the wound, trying not to tremble as you shut your eyes. Find your center, you remember San telling you. This time, you wouldn’t let it control you.

Before you can do anything, however, there’s a dangerous creaking sound, and your eyes fly open to see the other chain holding the cannon in place starting to groan under the weight of it.

“The chain isn’t going to hold out for much longer!” Someone shouts in alarm, but all you can see is the man lying pinned underneath the cannon, and you know you have to make a choice.

“One of you, get Seonghwa and tell him to bring his carpenter’s saw along.” You try to say as firmly as you can. The man looks up frantically at you, and you take a moment to smile as reassuringly at him as you can. “I’m afraid that I need to take your leg.”

He’s so out of it he just slumps back onto the deck, looking resigned to his fate though his lower lip is trembling. “Do you think Yeosang-ssi will make me a personal peg leg?”

“Of course he will. Although I just lost my hand first, so you’ll have to wait in line.” You try to joke, pushing back the sweat soaked hair from his forehead. It’s a miracle how he’s stayed conscious so long, although it won’t be for much longer judging from how clammy his skin is.

In a few moments, Seonghwa is hurrying back with his saw. When he sees the state the man is in, his steps slow as he makes a face of realisation, eyes meeting yours. “Is there no other way?”

“No,” you say, pulling a drug out of your satchel. “And we don’t have much time left before the entire cannon rolls across the deck and crushes him.” You turn to Seonghwa, holding the herbal tincture up to him. “Here, make him drink this.”

Seonghwa obeys, trusting in your medical knowledge. The second the man has swallowed half the bottle, you strike the side of the man’s neck as hard as you can with the edge of your hand. The man crumples.

Seonghwa stares at you in shock, down at the passed out man, and back at you again. “...What?”

“We needed to knock him out.” You explain, already moving to tighten the tourniquet around the man’s leg. Seonghwa looks down at the bottle in his hand. “Then what was this for?”

“To distract him so he wouldn’t squirm and I wouldn’t miss. Don’t worry, it is actually a sedative, although it wouldn’t have been strong enough to knock him out completely.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!”

“We didn’t have any time!” You protest, dragging him over to the man. “We need his leg off as fast as possible, then I’ll use healing techniques on it to stop the blood flow.”

“The things that San is teaching you...” Seonghwa mumbles as he sets the saw in place, gauging how much of his leg he’ll be able to save. “I’m going to have a talk with him.”

You blink at him. “I didn’t learn that from him. Master only said to ‘do no harm’.”

“How’s that doing no harm?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective.” You insist, reaching over to look at the leg. “You should cut it off right below the knee.”

Seonghwa inhales deeply as he sets the saw to the flesh. “You owe me so much for this.”

“You can claim it when we get out of here alive.” You reply, but your smile is grim. “Now get sawing.”

>>>

When you and Seonghwa finally pull the man free from under the gun carriage, you don’t have any time to think about how the blood is getting all over your pants and shirt.

“He’s bleeding out!” Seonghwa says in alarm, moving over to help you apply pressure on the wound. You glare at him, wiping your red stained hand on your pants. You’re not sure which turns more red. “I can see that, yes.”

There’s no time for hesitation. “Smack me away if I start to go under.”

Seonghwa’s eyes go wide with concern, but he nods, gripping your shoulder tightly. “Come back to us, alright?”

A smile brushes the side of your mouth. “Aye aye, sir.” You return your attention to the man, setting your hand to the side of his injury. Find your center, you remind yourself as you shut your eyes. Concentrate on yourself and the patient, no one else exists but the two of you.

The warmth comes to you more easily this time, like a flickering, slowly waning flame. You swallow, coax the warmth out of your chest and down your arm, directing it into the injury.

There are no memories this time, you realise, except for the pulsing warmth that throbs in your chest, the gentle feeling of the summer sun on your face. You sit there for a while, almost in a daze, holding the tiny flame close as it flickers and sputters.

Suddenly, something yanks you out of that peaceful warmth and you startle, thrashing about in an iron grip as someone lifts you clean off the ground. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear something that sounds like Seonghwa’s scream of horror, before you feel cold metal digging into your temple.

“Let us off the ship, or she dies.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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callboxkat · 4 years ago

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Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 6/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone.

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Fic Warnings: food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 2174

Part 1

Writing Masterpost!

...

Early morning daylight filled the room, and Valerie was back, setting up her supplies on the side table. She glanced over as Roman yawned, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“I did ask you to fetch someone if he woke up,” she scolded gently.

Roman realized he was still sitting on Logan’s bed, leaning against the headboard, Logan’s hand held in both of his.

Logan was asleep, his face turned slightly towards Roman.

Roman felt his face heat up. “...it was late,” he justified, watching as Valerie started to check Logan over. “He seemed a little scared, so I just....”

“It’s okay. I did ask you to keep him calm,” Valerie said. She put the back of her hand on Logan’s cheek, then felt his pulse, giving a little nod to herself. She then moved on to check the bandages on Logan’s head. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked as she worked.

Roman smiled. “Much improved, thanks to you.”

“That’s good to hear. You didn’t hurt your ankle too much when you decided to migrate over here, did you?”

Roman huffed indignantly, pouting. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t left his bed at all since he’d been here. And he was keeping his worse-off foot elevated, like she’d told him to. He’d put it up on the bed and everything. “I did not.”

Valerie looked amused. “Okay, I believe you. Would you mind moving back over to your own bed? I need to check on those ribs of yours, and there’s not quite enough space here.”

Roman looked reluctantly at Logan, then sighed, and nodded. He very gently placed Logan’s hand on the blanket and allowed Valerie to help him back to his own bed.

She was about halfway through reapplying the salve on his torso when there was a groan from the neighboring bed. Roman’s head snapped up immediately. Valerie also paused, glancing over.

Logan’s eyes were open. He looked drowsy, still, but rather than the bleary, nervous disorientation of the night before, now his eyes were sharp and focused—if still understandably confused. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then turned his head, looking around.

Roman gasped, then grinned, trying to hide how worried he’d been. “Does my favorite nerd stir? You’re finally back in the land of the living!”

Logan’s eyes found Roman. He frowned and opened his mouth to speak, only to break off into a coughing fit. Valerie quickly set down the salve she’d been applying and fetched a glass of water. Roman watched as she brought it over to him, trying to ignore the acrobatics his heart was performing.

“Careful now,” she said. “Have some water.”

She helped Logan to drink. Logan seemed to be trying to help hold the glass, but it was obvious that he was still feeling weak and exhausted.

“Better?” Valerie asked once he had drunk a fair amount.

Logan nodded slightly, closing his eyes as he did so. “Thank you,” he said, his voice still rough.

“No problem at all,” the doctor assured him. She glanced him up and down, assessing. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Logan.”

“And where are we, Logan?”

He opened his eyes again and glanced around. “It appears to be a hospital, although… I’m afraid I can’t be more specific.”

“Yes, you are in the hospital,” Valerie confirmed. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Logan swallowed, his gaze growing a bit glassy. “The… the giant,” he whispered.

“Yes, Sir Roman here has told me about that. I’m sorry about what happened, but you’re safe now.” She glanced towards Roman, who looked at her meaningfully. Logan seemed pretty lucid—surely he was well enough to talk?

Valerie seemed to debate for a fraction of a second, but thankfully, she kept her promise. “Alright, everything looks good. I’ll… leave you two alone for a moment, then, unless you need something?”

“No, thank you, doctor,” Logan said. “I will be fine for a moment.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

“Wait,” Logan said suddenly, reaching out as if to stop her. “My apothecary, my clients….”

“There are other apothecaries,” Roman said soothingly. “They’ll be fine until you’re better.”

“Yes, yes, but… some of my clients, they have told me they have difficulty being served elsewhere.”

Valerie hesitated. “Which clients?”

“Vampires,” Logan said.

Oh, Roman thought. He suddenly felt a bit guilty, thinking about his and Logan’s exchange only a few days before. He should have guessed that vampires might have difficulty finding what they needed. And of course Logan would care about that, even while lying in a hospital bed himself.

“Valerie, if you would not mind… I know it is a lot to ask… but there are only seven of them.”

Valerie tapped her fingernails on her clipboard. “I can put a sign on the door,” she said. “I can tell them to come to me. I’ll take care of it.”

Logan relaxed. “Thank you.”

Valerie nodded, gathered up her things, then left the room. Roman waited until she was sure he’d heard her footsteps leave the neighboring room, then carefully got up from his own bed and limped back over to Logan’s. Logan reached towards him, and Roman helped him to sit up, pushing pillows behind him and then letting him lean back against them. Roman sat down on the edge of the bed again, which Logan didn’t seem to mind, if he even noticed.

Logan’s eyes had locked onto his injured leg, splinted and heavily bandaged. A part of Roman wished he had adjusted the covers to hide it, but he supposed it wasn’t as if Logan didn’t know what had happened.

“They say you’ll probably need a cane,” Roman admitted. As if it would somehow make it better, he added, “We’ll get you a nice, stylish one. People will think it’s just part of your whole apothecary vibe.” Logan liked to look professional—surely that would be a plus. Right?

Mercifully, Logan changed the subject. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A couple of days. Ever since the giant….” Roman shuddered at the memory. “Anyway. You’ve got a concussion—twinsies—and you lost a lot of blood. But Valerie says that you shouldn’t have any kind of permanent damage, other than the limp. And for now, you get to take some killer pain meds. I’m almost jealous.”

Logan took a moment to mull that over. He looked Roman over, his gaze lingering on his bruised face, his cracked ribs, and his sprained ankle. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What? Why are you sorry?”

“You’re hurt because of me,” Logan pointed out. “It was my plan to go into the woods. My plan to fetch those supplies, even knowing the risks—”

“You didn’t know about that giant.”

Logan did not seem reassured. “I knew about the monsters in the woods. I knew that the sentries and the walls and the enchantments were there for a reason. I knew that it was dangerous.”

“Logan.”

“You could have died, because of me—”

Roman held up a hand to stop him. “But I didn’t. I am very much still alive.”

Logan sighed. He picked at the blanket lying across his lap. “And the giant, then, it’s…?”

“Dead,” Roman assured. “As dead as we would have been if you didn’t distract him so we could get out of there. As dead as you would have been if I hadn’t—gods, Logan, why did you want me to leave you behind? Did you really think I’d ever do something like that to you? You’re my—” he cut himself off, the tips of his ears reddening. He wasn’t even sure what he’d been about to say, but… he knew it wasn’t something he could just… say.

Logan watched him for a moment. Then, cautiously, he spoke. “Roman, you asked the doctor for a moment alone with me. May I ask why?”

Roman fell silent, before looking back up at Logan; and he met those wide, earnest, deep blue eyes. His heart was beating very fast. He swallowed.

No more wasted time.

“Because… we need to talk.”

For a long moment, Logan simply stared at him. Roman couldn’t feel his fingers.

Then, the apothecarist looked down, and considered. “Perhaps…” Logan said slowly, “Perhaps we do.”

Okay, maybe Roman was reading into this too much, but that… that sounded like Logan might feel the same way. Was he reading into this too much?

…Roman might faint.

Logan looked a little concerned, now. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” Roman quickly assured him, his voice possibly a little higher than normal. He wished there was an inconspicuous way he could fan himself, but there was not.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep! Mm-hm!”

“Okay.” Logan waited. Roman might have imagined it, but he may have also looked a bit nervous.

Finally, Roman determined that he was in fact not going to faint like some kind of romantic disaster—at least, not yet. He took a few deep breaths, to steady himself. He cleared his throat. Still, his voice shook when he began to speak—although it grew firmer as he continued. “So… so, Logan, there’s something that I’ve really wanted to tell you for a… a very long time. And… to be honest, I never really intended to. I suppose I was afraid. But after everything that’s happened, everything we went through, thinking that you had… that I might have lost you… I just need you to know. I hope that’s okay.”

Logan blinked.

He knew that the words were not coming across as coherently or poetically as he had imagined, over and over through the years, but the words were coming. And now he just had to say it. Roman took a shaky breath, and then let out a little helpless laugh. “Logan, I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“Oh,” Logan said softly.

Roman swallowed. “Yeah.”

“If I might ask… how long have you felt this way?”

“…Since I was still in training. To be a knight.”

He could feel Logan doing the math on that. Knew that he knew that that was practically when they had very first met. The apothecarist was silent for a long moment.

“I remember…” Roman said, wanting to fill the silence, “one of the other recruits had cut me during a practice fight, and they had me come to you for a poultice. To—to make sure it didn’t get infected. You’d barely finished your apprenticeship, but everyone said you were the best.”

“You were very clumsy at the start,” Logan remembered. “You kept getting injured, and needing to return. You were very lucky only to receive trivial wounds.”

Roman bit his lip. Logan looked at him funny.

“…I’ve been practicing with a sword pretty much since I could walk,” Roman confessed.

Logan stared at him. “So….”

“I wanted to see you. You were just… I wanted to keep seeing you, but you were always so professional back then, turning me down whenever I asked if you wanted to hang out away from the apothecary.”

“I see.”

Roman knew he was bright red. “So, I, uh, kept having little mishaps. Or just kind of wandering over there. And then… eventually, I guess I wore you down, and you agreed to go to the library with me.”

“I needed a tome on the applications of helenium,” Logan recalled quietly. “I went with you because I was already going there.”

“I know,” Roman said simply. Then he gave Logan a weak smile. “And it worked, didn’t it? We were friends after that.”

Acquaintances, he recalled Logan saying. Close acquaintances, he had eventually allowed. But it was true. They were friends. Logan did not correct him, he noticed.

“I never wanted to pressure you,” Roman continued. “I never wanted to make you do anything that you didn’t want to do, and I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. But… it’s true. I’ve—I’ve loved you for a long time.” He looked down at the blankets, finding it difficult to meet Logan’s eyes. “So—so, I just wanted to know… if you might feel the same way. It’s okay if you don’t! And It’s okay if you don’t—if you don’t love me; but if you’d like to, I don’t know, try this out… I would just really like to give it a chance.”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Roman’s heart was pounding. Long seconds ticked by, each one dragging on like hours.

“I think,” the apothecarist said finally, hesitantly reaching out and taking Roman’s hand, “That I would like that as well.”

Roman’s mouth fell open, and he jerked back, staring at Logan. Logan just looked at him, real and alive. Tears welled in Roman’s eyes, and he took Logan’s hand in both of his own. He blinked the tears away so he could search Logan’s face. A few rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t care. “Really?” he croaked, scarcely believing he might have heard correctly.

Logan nodded, and then he smiled. “Really.”

Now with a post-story illustration

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kurts-still-here · 3 years ago

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Nothing Breaks Like A Heart Chapter 2 Kurt/ Sebastian FanFiction

Hello everyone, I am back with chapter 2 of “Nothing Breaks Like A Heart”. Please read etheir on here or A03 or FanFiction. Net and leave any comments, questions or feedback for me. I love hearing from you guys and everyone was super sweet about chapter 1. This chapter is about how Kurt’s family reacts when they see him beat up and I loved writing this because of how loving and supportive everyone was. Anyway read for yourself and have a good day!! :)

Archive Of Our Own

FanFiction.Net (Chapter 2)

“It’s Like One Day You Flipped A Switch And Became Someone I Never Knew”- Unknown

“What the hell happened?” Kurt heard his dad and Finn yell at the same time. Kurt didn’t answer them, just continuing to cry into Sam’s chest. He was asking himself the same question. Carol went over to him and kneeled down in front of him so that when Sam pulled Kurt away from that Kurt was looking right at her.

“Kurt, honey, what happened? Who did this to you?” She asked him but all Kurt could do was shake his head. He couldn’t tell them, they would call the police on Blaine and then Blaine would know that he broke his promise and would probably come after Kurt to hurt him more. He wasn’t taking any chances, he was in enough pain as it was and he wasn’t about to go cause himself more.

“Kurt, son,” His dad started to say calmly , joining the group over at the table. “I thought you were with Blaine tonight. Where is he? Why didn’t he drive you home? Do I need to call him?”

“No,” Kurt yelled, making his dad and Carol exchange an odd look with each other.

“Blaine and I broke up and I told him that I would just walk home… because it’s not that far away but then…” Kurt stopped and took a shaky breath, trying to figure out what to say. “... I don’t want to talk about it.” That was enough, he didn’t want his family to get any ideas that Blaine was the one who hurt him, even though that idea was the truth.

“Wait, Blaine broke up with you?” Finn asked, surprised. “Why?”

“I broke up with him and it doesn’t matter,” Kurt whispered. It did matter, all of it mattered because not only was Kurt physically broken but he was also heartbroken which didn’t make much sense because he was starting to think he had never loved him in the first place.

“Well, he didn’t hurt you did he?” Sam asked and Kurt shook his head, lying.

“You know Blaine didn’t do this, Sam. Blaine wouldn’t hurt a fly.” ‘But he would hurt his boyfriend.’ Kurt thought to himself, miserably. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore though so he changed the subject. “It hurts,”

“Well you do look pretty beaten up there honey,” Carol told him. “Lucky for you, I’m a nurse so there’s no need to take you to a doctor right now.”

“Carol, I think…” Burt started to say but Carol shot him a look that said, “Not now, look at the state he’s in,” and he shut up. He turned her attention back to Kurt and started examining his body while asking him some questions that thankfully had nothing to do with the identities of his attacker.

“Where does it hurt specifically Kurt?”

“My head, my face, my wrist and my stomach and my ankle. I think I snapped my ankle, it’s kind of dangling out of place.” Kurt admitted, trying not to look down at his foot because he felt sick enough and didn’t really want to throw up again.

“Well it looks like whatever got you, got you pretty hard, sweetie. You’ve got a black eye and your eyeball is really red and swollen.” ‘Must’ve been the book,” Kurt thought to himself. “And when you say that your head hurts do you mean because you feel sick or did you hit it?”

“Both,” Kurt mumbled, starting to feel sicker and sicker by the minute.

“And is that the same with your stomach?” She asked him. “Did someone punch or kick you? Or something,” She added at the end.

“Yes, I got punched,”

“Okay, Kurt I’m going to need you to stand up and take your shirt off so I can see if you have any marks. Not to worry you but you could have internal bruising if you got punched. Can you stand up?” She asked him.

“Yes,” Kurt said and held onto the table to push himself up but when he was fully standing, he felt the pain throughout his body increase and winced. “Never mind, no,” He changed his answer.

“Sam hold Kurt up, please,” Carol ordered Sam who gave Kurt a small, comforting smile and held him up by his hips. “Okay Kurt, let me help you,” She told him, going over to him to help him pull his wet and surprisingly, blood soaked shirt off. It took some time and it was extremely painful for Kurt but they all managed. When the shirt was finally off Carol placed it aside and went back to look at Kurt’s stomach when she along with Finn and Burt gasped.

Kurt’s stomach was practically black, covered in various little bruises but when you looked from afar it looked like one. Kurt told himself not to look down so as to not freak himself out. He hated all these injuries, the blood and the bones and the bruising. He always had, that’s one of the reasons why he never got into any sports until he played football his sophomore year. The thought of having a bone sticking out of him or getting a bloody nose was very unappealing to him so that just made this whole situation even worse than it already was due to the fact that there was blood all over him and that his ankle was deformed.

“Kurt that looks painful honey,” Carol told him and usually Kurt would snap back at her and would say that it was painful but he was too focused on breathing so he wouldn’t puke all over himself and Sam. “We need to get some ice on that after you get yourself cleaned up but next you said your wrist hurt. Can I see it?”

Kurt nodded his head a little and held out his right arm for Carol to examine. She took it in her hand and gently held it, trying her best not to twist it to cause any more pain or damage. “Hmm, it may be sprained honey, we’ll have to wrap it up, okay?” She asked him but Kurt was silently crying again, feeling sick to his stomach and wasn’t paying attention to her. “Kurt?” She asked again and when Kurt started to feel something rise in his throat he wiggled himself out of Sam’s grasp and fell towards the sink just in time to throw up in it.

He retched and heaved while Sam rubbed his back. He felt horrible which only made him cry more, which made his stomach hurt more which caused him to vomit even more. When there was nothing left in him for him to puke (for now at least) he turned on the sink and washed it out before splashing the water on his face. He dried off his face with a paper towel and realized that he was out of breath. He just wanted to sleep now but Carol wasn’t done examining him and he still had to take a bath and get his injuries wrapped up. He continued crying and Sam helped him sit back down in his chair before sitting down himself next to Kurt and Finn joined them. Both boys grabbed one of Kurt’s hands and held it, trying their best to comfort him without hurting him anymore.

“Kurt bud, I know it hurts but it’s going to be okay,” His dad told him. “What do you want us to do?”

“Nothing,” Kurt told them all. “I want to… I don’t know it just hurts.” He sobbed.

“How about some pain reliever?” Carol suggested and Kurt nodded his head. “You’ll probably have to eat something to keep it down though. Do you think you can do that?”

“No,” Kurt choked out. He didn’t want to be sick anymore and he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Okay, well how about this?” Carol started to suggest. “Let’s do this. Let me check out your ankle. If it is dislocated like you think it is then I will try to pop it back into place. I’ve done it many times before but it will be extremely painful. In the case that it doesn’t work, we’ll need to take you to the hospital but let me try first. After we tend to that, you can go and take a bath and change your clothes. Once you’re done I’ll come in and bandage your wrist and will give you an ankle brace. Tomorrow I’ll go out and get you an air cast and that will relieve the pressure that you put on there. You’re going to have some kind of medicine for all of this or else you’re just going to feel even worse so you’re going to have to eat something for me, okay?” Kurt reluctantly nodded his head.

“After that, we’ll let you sleep and we’ll just see how you feel in the morning. Hopefully you feel a little better. Does that sound like a good plan?” She asked him.

“Yes,” Kurt answered, trying to figure out how long all of this would take so he could hurry up. He just wanted to skip to the step where he could go to bed even though he was drenched in rain, sweat and blood.

“Okay, so let me see your ankle.” She told Kurt who held out his ankle for her. She carefully took his shoe off and then his sock to reveal a swollen, dislocated ankle.

“Yep, definitely dislocated but it looks like it will be an easy fix.” She told everyone. “Now, like I said, this is going to hurt badly. You may scream, you may vomit, you may pass out but once I get it back in place it will feel much better. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Kurt told her when he really meant no. He didn’t want to vomit again let alone scream or faint. Hopefully he said quiet, with his mouth shut and his eyes open.

“Okay, I’m going to fix it on three. One… two… three.” She said and snapped his ankle back into its socket.

“OH MY GOD,” Kurt shouted. He knew it was going to hurt but it felt like, he didn’t even know, it hurt that bad. His vision became blurred with tears and he squeezed his brother’s hands tightly.

“There, you’re all done.” Carol told him. ‘Thank god,” Kurt thought. “You did good.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said, bitterly.

“Okay, now for step two. Finn, Sam, can you help Kurt upstairs? I need to get all the supplies.” She asked the other two boys who nodded their heads. They both stood up and Sam bent down so he could pick Kurt up bridal style and Finn led them up the stairs to Kurt’s room. Once they were inside, Finn shut the door and Sam placed Kurt down on his bed.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Finn asked him. “Can you stand long enough to take a shower?”

“Yes,” Kurt told him. He would try to anyway but he wasn’t going to have his brothers help him take a bath. He wasn’t a baby and he already knew how uncomfortable Finn would be. “I won’t take long just… please don’t leave,” He begged them both. He didn’t want to be alone right now.

“We won’t,” Sam promised him. “We’ll just wait in here, take your time,”

Kurt stood himself up and walked into his bathroom. He slowly bent down to get a towel from the cabinet underneath his sink and when he came back up he accidentally looked into the mirror and froze. Carol wasn’t kidding when she said he looked bad in fact that was an understatement. He looked horrible. Just like Carol had said, his right eye was black and swollen and his eyeball was bloodshot red. He had other bruises all over his body and his lip was busted. He didn’t even know how Blaine had managed to hurt him so bad.

Tears were starting to well in his eyes again when he snapped out of his daze and continued getting ready to take a bath. There were two doors in his bathroom, one that led to his bedroom and the other that led to his closet. He walked into his closet and went over to where he kept his lounge clothes because contrary to what everyone thought he did have those. It took him some time to find something warm enough for him to wear since he was freezing but he eventually found a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that went together and took that with him back into the bathroom.

He turned on the hot water in his shower and took the rest of his clothes off. He tested the water to see how hot it was and when he was satisfied with the temperature, he got in. The water felt good on his body and it felt even better when he felt the blood and sweat wash off of him. He scrubbed his body with soap, careful to avoid any sore spots and then washed his hair, massaging his scalp. After what seemed to be about twenty minutes, Kurt turned off the water and carefully stepped out of his bathtub. He slowly dried off and put on his clothes before walking over to his sink and grabbing a brush to brush his hair. Once he was done with that, he brushed his teeth and thought about doing his skincare routine but decided against it. The shower had woken him up a little but the effect was wearing off and he still had things to do before he could sleep.

Kurt walked out of his bathroom and sat on his bed. Finn and Sam had been talking to one another, sitting around in Kurt’s room and quickly looked up when Kurt entered the room.

“Hey, do you feel any better?” Sam asked him, hopeful.

“Yeah, you look better,” Finn added and Sam nudged him in his rib. “Ouch, what was that for? He does look better, idiot.” Apparently Finn didn’t get the message.

“I do,” Kurt told them. It was true, he didn’t feel as sick anymore even though that was probably subject to change when he had to eat something and the shower had helped with some of the pain.

“Great, that’s great,” Finn said, acting weird. He had a strained smile on his face, like he needed to say something but couldn’t get it out. “That’s just fantastic,”

“Finn, are you okay?” Kurt asked him, raising his eyebrow.

“I think the better question is if you’re okay, Kurt,” Finn asked him, raising his voice a little and causing Kurt to flinch back.

“Finn calm down, you’re scaring him,” Sam warned Finn but Finn didn’t listen.

“No, you scared us Kurt. You weren’t returning anyone’s calls or texts, we called Rachel and Jeff and Sebastian and they all didn’t know where you were, Burt was about to call the police and then you show up, covered in blood and bruises and you don’t tell us who did this to you. It’s not okay, we deserve to know. We… we were…” Finn paused, looking up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath, “... I was scared, little bro. I thought you were dead or something. I know I was overreacting but… I don’t want to lose you,” He finished saying before breaking down into tears.

He went over to sit down on Kurt’s bed next to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Finn was squishing him and it hurt but Kurt didn’t pull away. Sam joined in on the hug and they sat there for a while, all three of them crying.

“Just, don’t scare us like that anymore, okay,” Finn said, pulling away from them.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, wiping his tears. “I didn’t mean to, I was just… I was upset and I was panicking. I didn’t know what I was going to tell you guys and I wanted to get home. I didn’t know what to do,”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, rubbing Kurt’s back. “I mean it’s not, it’s not okay that you got beat up but you’re safe now and we won’t let it happen again. It’d be helpful though if you could tell us who did it.”

“I can’t,” Kurt admitted, shaking his head. “I just can’t and I don’t want to talk about it, it’s hard to explain,”

“Okay. Well, do you want to talk about Blaine?” Finn asked him.

“No, I’m done with him. We had a falling out but I’ll be fine,” He partly lied. He wasn’t in love with Blaine, not anymore and he hadn’t been for a while but he wasn’t sure whether he would be okay or not.

“That sucks man,” Sam said. “I thought you guys were forever,”

“Yeah, but we’re on your side,” Finn told him. “I never liked him anyway,”

“I know you didn’t,” Kurt said, smiling a little. “Thank you,”

“Anytime,” Finn told him and then stood up. “I’m going to get my mom so she can wrap your stuff,” Finn left the room and Kurt noticed that Sam was staring at him with an expression that Kurt couldn’t put his finger on.

“Sam, are you okay?” He asked him. “You’re staring,”

Sam shook his head, snapping out of his trance. “Yeah I’m okay, sorry.” Sam paused before opening his mouth again. “I know it was him, Blaine I mean, who did this to you and I’m really sorry.”

Kurt stared at him with wide eyes before starting to cry again. “Sam, please don’t tell anyone,” He begged. “I’m so scared that he’s going to… hurt me again and I can’t let it happen. You have to promise me. Please.”

“Whoa, calm down,” Sam told him. “I won't, I promise, it’s just, I think you should tell someone. Your dad and Carol so they can call the police. He hurt you Kurt, why are you protecting him? He has a better chance of hurting you again if you don’t tell anyone.”

“I just can’t. I don’t want to deal with it right now. I can’t do that to my dad or Carol or Finn. I don’t want them to worry or… or think that I need extra protection because I got myself into this. Maybe I’ll tell them eventually but I’m not ready to yet.”

“I’m not letting him anywhere near you,” Sam said. “I promise. So, can you tell me what he did exactly?”

“We got into a fight,” Kurt said, hanging his head. “I don’t know how but apparently he gets jealous whenever I hang out with you or Sebastian or any other guy. He accused me of cheating and wanted to see my phone and I told him no and he got angry and hit me. It just got worse from there and he eventually kicked me out. He told me that he would call me when he was ready to but I told him not to because I was breaking up with him. Whether he’ll respect my wishes or not, I told him to act like he never knew me and to stay away from me. I just don’t know how that’s going to work if he decides to stay at McKinley. You know how persistent he is.”

“I’m sorry Kurt. I know I said I thought you guys were forever but I never liked how he treated you. Like you were his property and I should’ve said something. Maybe if I had then it wouldn’t have gotten this bad. I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized…”

“It’s not your fault Sam,” Kurt assured Sam, cutting him off med-sentence. “It was mine fault actually. I knew what he was doing was wrong but I didn’t stand up for myself. I didn’t call him out until tonight because… I thought that maybe I could change him or that it was just a phase. I thought that if I broke up with him that… I would never find anyone else that would love me. I guess I never found that person in the first place though.”

Kurt continued crying while Sam held him until Carol, Finn and Burt came into his room. Carol had a bunch of boxes with her and placed all of them on her bed. Finn had a banana and gave it to Kurt who looked at it like it was poisoned.

“You feeling any better, kiddo?” His father asked him and Kurt nodded his head. “Good, you’re doing great,”

“Okay, so I have an ace bandage for your wrist,” Carol said, holding up a box of bandages. “And then I have an ankle brace, it may be a little tight but that’s for the best to help keep everything in line and like I said, a boot will be your best option. You ready for me to wrap everything for you.”

Kurt nodded his head again and Sam let him go so he could face Carol. “Now all of this shouldn’t be as painful as earlier with your ankle and I’ll try my best to be gentle but let’s get this over with, okay?”

She kept her word when she said she would be gentle. She slowly wrapped his wrist and then slipped the brace onto his ankle and Kurt was relieved to find that the pain was only a seven out of ten.

“There, all done,” Carol exclaimed when she had finished. “How does it feel?”

“Fine,” Kurt told her and Carol nodded her head.

“Good. Now I need you to eat that banana so you can take this Tylenol. At least half of it so you can keep it down.” She said, pushing the banana and two pills towards him. “You can do it honey and then you can go to sleep, alright?”

“Okay,” Kurt said and he managed to eat half of the banana like Carol had told him to so that he could swallow the pills.

“Alright honey,” Carol said once he was finished. “I’m going to leave you alone so you can sleep now. You wake one of us up if you need anything okay?”

Once again, Kurt nodded his head and Carol gave him a hug before taking all her supplies and leaving his room. Next his dad came over.

“Night son,” His dad told him. “Hope you feel better tomorrow and just… get some rest and take it easy.” His dad awkwardly patted him on the back before leaving his room like Carol had and Kurt was upset with himself for being the reason behind his dad’s weird behavior.

The only two people left in the room were Finn and Sam who took their spots next to Kurt on his bed again. They sat there in silence, all trapped in their own thoughts. Finn and Sam didn’t want to leave Kurt alone and Kurt didn’t want to be left alone but no one knew how to go about saying it. Finally Kurt spoke up.

“Can you guys stay in here tonight?” He asked them. “Only if you want to, I just don’t want to sleep alone,”

“Of course,” Sam said, smiling along with Finn and Kurt laid down in his bed while Sam laid on to his right and Finn to his left. Kurt snuggled up against Sam and Sam wrapped his arms around Kurt while Finn did the same on the other side. Kurt felt safe in their embrace and let his tears fall down his face once more while he fell asleep. Things couldn’t get any worse than they already were… right?

#glee #glee fanfiction #kurt hummel #sebastian smythe #sam evans #finn hudson #kurtbastian #lol blaine #lol klaine #please read #and reblog #have a great day/night!

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