#the skin of my hands is inflamed and splitting in several places already. I want to forget about the killing cold

[vampiricsheep]

once again floating ideas when most of the gang are asleep, but...

if I were to host a dragon minion centric rp event would there be interest? let your branded/mordrem/unchained/etc commiserate and maybe make some friends who Get It?

[vannahfanfics]

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter.

A Dream Unbroken

Ao3

Chapter 1: The Beginning

The rain drizzled down from the cloudy-gray sky, dusting Naruto in miniscule droplets as he trotted down the sidewalk. The soles of his tennis shoes scraped against the slick, dark gray concrete and the weeds poking through the cracks. Alongside him, cars threw up mists of water as they rolled down the road; their tires bumped over the potholes and uneven pavement to make the automobile creak and groan. Thunder rumbled in the distance, sounding like the faraway footsteps of giants. 

Naruto would stand upon the shoulders of those giants one day, but for now… he needed to practice. 

The door to the gym was unlocked, as he expected it to be. Naruto pulled down the hood of his rain jacket to shake out his fluffy blond hair, dusting the air with water vapor. He slipped out of the jacket to hang it on the set of metal hooks by the door, leaving it to puddle water on the floor. His shoes squeaked across the smooth tile floor as he walked through the dark. He ran his hand along the wall, feeling the bumps and grooves of holes that had been filled in time and time again, until his fingertips hit the enamel surface of the light switch. He flipped it, and the fluorescents flickered to life. 

The soft white glow bathed the boxing ring in an almost ethereal light, and Naruto inhaled with awe. Nothing ever prepared him for the adrenaline rush that gripped him when he gazed upon the ring, the way his nerves sang with the desire to fight. Naruto was born to box, plain and simple. 

However, for the first time, apprehension coursed through him, too. 

He grimaced as he reached around to paw at his shoulder. During his debut season last year, he’d gone up against a brutal opponent and suffered severe muscle damage that had ended his quest for glory before it had really begun. The physical rehabilitation had been agonizing, and though his recovery was nothing short of remarkable, he knew in his heart that his punches would never be the same. 

Still, he thought, his gaze sliding to the punching bag hanging in the corner. I said I wasn’t down for the count, and I meant it! I’m gonna come back with a vengeance, believe it! 

So, he trotted over to the hooks on the wall where several pairs of boxing gloves hung. He picked up his favorite pairs, sleek black ones with yellow bands across them, and then sat down on the small bench underneath the hooks. He fished his bottle of anti-inflammatories out of his pocket, popping two of the large white pills into his mouth and then leaning over to the nearby water fountain to slurp them down. He grimaced at the feeling of the pills sliding down his throat, like he were swallowing rocks; however, he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t take them before going a few rounds with the punching bag. 

“Just gotta get back into shape, and soon I won’t need ‘em at all,” he told himself, though it probably wasn’t true. His shoulder twinged almost as if to protest his wishful thinking. “Stop it,” he scolded his muscles before sliding on the boxing gloves. He clenched his fists within, savoring the familiar feeling of the plush gloves enveloping his hands. “Oh yeah,” he grinned. “Oh, I missed this.” 

He pushed himself off of the bench, punching the air a few times and beaming at the way it moved around the aerodynamic surface of the glove. How he had missed the sound of the air crumpling under the force of his strikes. He walked over to the ring, hopping up the small steps abutting the thick floor, and then slipped through the bright red ropes rimming the square space. A punching bag was suspended from the rafters, hanging down in the middle of the ring and practically begging for Naruto to hit it. 

So he did, delivering a solid left hook that had it swinging wildly on the chain. Naruto grinned as the jingling sound filled the air. The soles of his tennis shoes scraped across the scuffed surface of the boxing ring as she swiftly side-stepped the swaying sand-filled bag. His fist slammed into the black outer shell with a loud pow!, flinging the punching bag careening in the opposite direction. Naruto’s breaths came in small pants, but not because he was exhausted; no, he was exhilarated, high on the thrill of the fight after so many months licking his wounds. 

Oh, how he’d missed this. 

Grinning madly, he flitted around the punching bag— striking it here, skipping away as it heaved to circle it and punch it from behind, hopping away again with fleet-footed steps to hit it again. It jumped and jerked wildly on the steel links, bouncing the rafter beam to make it shudder. With one final, centrally-placed punch, the chain links snapped. The bag went sailing across the ring to smash into the ropes, bouncing back a little before falling to the floor with a thud. Naruto looked at it with electric blue eyes, a thin sheet of sweat shining on his flushed face, and a breathless smile. 

He then winced as pain coursed through his shoulder, and he reflexively reached over to try and massage his fingers into the inflamed flesh. It was kind of a useless effort with the gloves in the way. After tugging the glove off with his teeth and letting it flop to his feet, he started gently pushing into the muscle, and weighed quietly in relief as the pain slowly dulled. 

“I warned you that you may be coming back too soon.” 

Naruto glanced up as the voice echoed through the otherwise empty gym. A smile split his face as a silver-haired man stepped out of the shadows, his hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants and a smile evident even through the cloth mask covering the bottom half of his face. As quickly as he could without further jostling his shoulder, Naruto skirted out of the ring to run up to him. 

“Kakashi-sensei!” he cried with delight, and Kakashi affectionately ruffled Naruto’s slight sweaty blond hair when he stopped in front of him. “Thanks for leaving the gym open a little while so I could stop by. Although I’m afraid I may have overdone it already,” he sighed as his shoulder twinged again. 

Kakashi sighed, then ushered him out of the main room down a side hallway to his office. After unlocking the door, he walked over to the mini-fridge to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer. Naruto nearly melted on the spot when the cold jelly-like pack met the hot, burning flesh of his shoulder. Anticipating his slumping over, Kakashi kicked the plastic chair in front of his desk behind Naruto, who graciously collapsed right into it. 

“Are you sure you want to come back this season?” Kakashi asked, walking around his desk to shuffle through a few papers littering its worn wooden surface. “You could always wait another year.” 

“No way!” Naruto refused, though it wasn’t as powerful with the way his voice strained with the pain. “I’m not waiting another year, Kakashi-sensei,” he insisted while slumping further into the chair. “I’ve waited long enough. I’m not gonna let this bum shoulder stop me from achieving my dream.” 

“Optimism is all good and well,” Kakashi said, clutching the edge of his desk to stare levelly at him, “but it can easily be confused with overconfidence. Overconfidence leads to a point of no return. You have to remember that this is a dangerous sport, Naruto. A bum shoulder may not be all you walk away with next time.” 

The scar over Kakashi’s eye shone bright pink in the lowlight, further punctuating his warning. Before owning and operating the gym, Kakashi had been a championship boxer himself. He’d won several titles and was even on the international scene. However, a particularly brutal fight had earned him that scar on his face, and cost him both his vision and his career. Now, he could only train new hopefuls like Naruto. Not a bad existence, but definitely not how Naruto wanted to end up in his early twenties. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know! I’ll be careful,” Naruto promised poutily and pressed the ice pack further against his skin with a small whistle through his teeth. When Kakashi continued to levelly stare, Naruto clenched his teeth before shouting, “I get it, okay? I promise, I won’t overdo it! Now quit badgering me!” 

“Well, it’s good to see your injury hasn’t lessened your attitude,” Kakashi sighed wanly, tilting his head to the side. Naruto let out a small “tch” at the blatant sarcasm, but couldn’t help but smile at his mentor’s teasing— and unspoken agreement to abide his wishes, however foolhardy they may be. “All right. We’ll begin your regular training regimen on Monday, but you have to listen to me when I tell you to stop. We have to ease back into the exercises lightly and rebuild your stamina, so that means no extra jogs or workouts without my permission.” 

“Aw, man!” Naruto whined, but Kakashi raised his eyebrow pointedly. “All right, all right, whatever you say. I got it,” he relented with a wave of his hand, and Kakashi smiled in satisfaction. Naruto had the utmost trust in his mentor, so light exercises or not, he knew he wouldn’t be a pansy by the time official fights came around. Even with the dull ache in his shoulder, Naruto was bristling with excitement. 

“Oiiiiii!” came a distant shout down the hall, and both he and Kakashi looked to the door. “Naruto! Where ya at, man?” 

“Back here!” he called, and the sound of footsteps approached. First came a wild jangling, and Naruto barely had time to prepare himself before Akamaru came bounding into the office. “Whoa, boy!” he laughed as the giant hound hopped up, trying his best to fit his massive furry bulk into Naruto’s lap so he could slather his face in sloppy licks. Naruto evaded the big pink tongue the best he could, laughing, while scratching Akamaru enthusiastically behind the ears. He looked over the back of the chair when Kiba strolled in, followed by a yawning Shikamaru. 

“‘Sup, Kakashi-sensei?” Kiba greeted with a head nod, adjusting the snapback on his head, and the older man greeted him with a polite wave. Kiba then trotted up behind Naruto, slapping his hands on his shoulders— gently on the injured side, Naruto was grateful for. “Hurt yourself already?” he chuckled when he saw the ice pack. “Come on, man, what good are ya if you bum your shoulder again before the season even starts?” 

“Shaddup! Don’t jinx me!” Naruto whined, leaning forward while hugging Akamaru’s giant body so he could knock on the wood of Kakashi’s desk. After flopping back in the chair, he looked at Kiba and Shikamaru with raised eyebrows. “Why’re you guys here, anyway?” 

“We’re going to Tsunade’s!” Kiba answered enthusiastically. 

“Apparently, she’s hired a new singer, and from the rumors, she’s a beauty,” Shikamaru reported as if he couldn’t care less, studying his cuticles. “In honor of her first performance, Tsunade’s got a half-off drinks promotion to try and drum up business.” 

“Oh, so that’s why you guys wanna go!” Naruto laughed. Not only did half-price alcohol sound good, but Naruto had to admit, he was intrigued by the thought of a pretty vocalist. As such, he shoved Akamaru off of him so he could rise from the chair. “All right, Kakashi-sensei, I’m gonna go to the bar with these dudes. Would you like to tag along?” he asked while dragging the chair back to its rightful place. 

“No, I’m afraid I have to attend to the gym’s finances,” Kakashi said, shuffling through a few of the papers. 

“All right! We’ll drink some beers for ya!” Naruto grinned, walking backwards out of the room with Kiba and Shikamaru while giving him two thumbs up.

“Not too many, I hope,” Kakashi called after him, and Naruto just laughed while he whirled on his heel. He trotted down the hall after his friends, Akamaru padding by his side with his tongue lolling and dripping drool all over the tile. As they walked out into the cool night air, he breathed in deep, savoring the hint of incoming rain on his tongue. 

This is just the beginning, he thought with a smile at the cloudy gray sky. 

And it was, but the beginning of more than he could have ever imagined. 

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

[witchfire00]

Stay at my Side

Summary: Cinder suffers from the aftermath at Beacon and nothing seems to help...until Salem decides it is time to find a new form of treatment.

Word Count: 1.8k

Rating: Mature (18+)

Warnings: dubious consent; breastfeeding kink

Since she had regained consciousness several months ago, Cinder’s life had been filled with pain. The loss of her eye, the following amputation of her arm, her burned throat and now the foreign grimm arm stuck to her limb, refusing to listen to her commands.

She just wanted it to stop.

Even with pain numbing medicine a day was torturous to endure.

Was this supposed to be her life now?

‘No!’

Not again!

Never again!

Sitting on her bed she unwrapped the bandages from her left hand, revealing the stubborn claw it hid from the world. Placing it on her lap, the maiden couldn’t help but scowl.

She took a deep breath, focusing all her will to command it, to move, even twitch for all she cared. Just...something she had control over.

...nothing.

With a frustrated growl, Cinder tugged her feet underneath her body and leaned against her pillow. Grasping the grimm claw at its wrist with her right hand she tried it again and again...and again.

Her breathing became ragged and almost painful.

‘Why?’

Why wasn’t it listening to her?

She was a maiden.

She was powerful now, so why?

“MOVE ALREADY!”

It was as if a fire had erupted inside her. Her throat throbbed painfully, refusing to die down, as each new breath felt like thousands of tiny needles prickling against her sensitive skin.

At the same time her own grip had become less than gentle, violently digging her nails inside the black shadowy claw that was now supposed to be a part of her.

A loud scream almost pierced her head.

Something that wanted to escape...

Something that wanted to split her mind in half...

‘Hmmmm...’

She couldn’t help but whimper silently, drawing her limbs together tightly, as she curled into a ball, trying to soothe the persistent ache spreading through her body.

“That was a rather foolish idea, don’t you think?”

Salem!

Cinder felt her presence as soon as she had entered her room, but she didn’t dare to open her eye...

She already looked pitiful enough she imagined.

No need to embarrass herself any further in front of her master.

The sound of footstep drew nearer. The maiden tried to pinpoint their direction, but before she could successfully do so, she could feel the bed dip slightly and a soft, cool hand started to caress her forehead.

The touch didn’t do much to dispel the pain cursing through Cinder’s entire body, but it did help to quell the burning and screaming a bit.

A shuddered breath escaped her lips, as she desperately tried not to move or make a sound.

She didn’t want to inflame her throat even more.

“You really need to keep your temper in check, Firefly...at least for now.”

Salem’s voice was like an anchor, tethering her to the here and now, a world outside the flames that wanted to consume her whole.

Something shifted against her...something warm.

She was tugged towards it, a feat that almost managed to make her cry out in pain again and send tears into Cinder’s right eye.

If there was something Cinder couldn’t stand…aside from losing control, it was disorientation.

Hesitantly she opened her eye, blinking through her blurry vision…and felt her face flush hotly.

‘What in the-?’

If she had ever imagined herself to be on Salem’s lap, buried against her chest…this surely wouldn’t have been how it played out.

Adding embarrassment into the mix of pain that wrecked her body certainly wasn’t pleasant and her master’s quiet laughter only managed to send more shudders done her spine…

From the sound or the vibrations she couldn’t tell, she only knew it added to her discomfort.

“I realize now that my expectations of you were…unfair.

For you to master your new powers you need to be free of all ailments.

The pain only hinders your growth.”

Cinder listened intently. Being this close to her master was a tad distracting, and yet her back straightened on her own accord to manage to catch every word.

There was something about how she said it…

She couldn’t quite put a finger on it though.

Salem seemed to interpret her reaction as approval to continue, letting a hand run through Cinder’s unruly hair, while the other was…shifting and rustling something soft around.

She didn’t dare to try and spot what exactly it was she was doing.

Not that she could have even if she wanted to.

“I decided on a new treatment for you.

I am confident this will help you recover at a much faster pace.”

‘Faster recovery?’

The maiden would give anything to feel normal again…or as normal as she could right now.

She tried to make a sound, to use her voice despite the burning inside it, but Salem shushed her…almost gently and turned her face around, softly guiding against smooth, pale flesh.

‘Wh-ha-hmm??’

Blushing brightly, Cinder tried to squirm away subconsciously.

Away from her master’s exposed breasts.

Was she hallucinating?

Did the constant pain drive her crazy in the end?

Salem surely wouldn’t…

“Hush girl, be still.”

The older woman’s grip on her became firmer, holding her in place and yet there was a certain…affection to it.

“I need you to drink from me, Cinder.”

‘…DRINK?!’

The dark haired girl’s eye widened.

How could she…?

There was no way…

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess.

Salem had to see just how red Cinder was at that prospect.

Why would she suggest such a thing?

Was that even possible to…she couldn’t even finish that thought.

It was ridiculous…and yet Salem waited patiently for her to calm down again, keeping her close.

“I am aware this is unlike anything I ever asked of you, but this is the only other option I can offer. It is either this…or the actual healing period.”

The actual healing period…

A year and a half is what Watts had said.

A year and a half full of pain.

A year and a half without being able to vocalize her thoughts.

A year and a half of her being weak and frail.

Depending on others to get by, to clothe, to bathe, to walk, to…feed…

Swallowing harshly against the lump in her throat, Cinder’s eye rested on the dark nubs that build a stark contrast between the incredibly pale mounds surrounding them.

…should she really…?

“I won’t force you, Firefly.”

She could feel the grip on her loosen, the decision now resting solely on her shoulders.

Pain echoed dully inside her, promising a swift return at a later time.

‘I hate it!’

With a grimace, the dark haired girl nuzzled hesitantly against Salem’s right breast, liking her dry lips nervously. Squeezing her eye shut she darted forward, her mouth closing around a dark nipple, as she gave it an experimental suck.

Her master’s hand had found the way into her hair again, gently tugging at a few loose strands.

This whole situation was just too overwhelming!

She needed to get it over with…now!

Cinder sucked on the sensitive nub again, this time way harder than before and while Salem seemed rather indifferent to it, something…sweet hit her tongue.

Swallowing the strange liquid she repeated the motion.

The milk…if you wanted to call it that, tasted unlike anything Cinder ever tasted before.

The sweetness had something…addicting to it.

She took another sip.

Something…

She shifted against Salem, running her tongue over her nipple almost teasingly.

Cinder was hot.

The milk running down her throat felt heavenly, relieving her of the burning ache that had resided there, extinguishing it completely.

Her body felt light. Pleasurable shudders ran down her spine, making her back arch in tandem with the soft tingles traveling through her veins.

‘I…need…’

More!

She needed more.

Cinder shifted her position again, straddling Salem in the process, her hands pressing against her shoulders, as she confined her master to the pillows beneath her.

Releasing the nipple with a loud plop, the dark haired girl panted heavily, her eye glazed over, as she mustered the older woman with open hunger. Ignoring the clear amusement in those crimson eyes, her mouth descended on Salem’s other breast, lavishing on it with needy nips and bites.

“Hmmmnn….”

The soft purr let Cinder come to an abrupt halt, as she glanced up once more.

Salem had her eyes closed, a rather peaceful expression on her face.

The maiden couldn’t help but drink in the sight before her.

It was so fascinating…

So…

‘Beautiful.’

There was a storm inside her. A fiery one that made her dizzy with hunger.

A different kind this time.

She lapped at her master’s breast, desperately trying to elicit more such noises from her, while drinking as much as she could from her.

Her ears were ringing, any kind of pain long forgotten, as one of her hands trailed over pale, soft skin.

As soon as it came into contact with Salem’s other breast, Cinder couldn’t help but relish at the tender feeling, rubbing her thumb along the sensitive nub, which stood rock hard seeking attention.

“Hmmm…Cinder…”

The sigh filled the dark haired girl with a longing too hard to resist.

Without being able to stop herself she bit down on Salem’s nipple that still spilled its sweet milk into her mouth, causing the hand in her hair to firmly tug her away.

But instead of furious, crimson eyes there was only more amusement found in her master’s gaze.

“Now you are just being greedy”, she said, entirely too pleased with herself.

If these words were supposed to be a warning, they did nothing to dispel the fire inside the maiden. In a fruitless attempt to get back to the older woman’s round mounds, her left hand sneaked from her master’s shoulder, only to be intercepted by a gentle but firm grip.

Annoyance flashed through Cinder’s eye, balling her hands into fists, as she met Salem’s knowing gaze with frustration.

That is until she arched her right eyebrow and tapped lightly on the girl’s left wrist.

‘What does she-?’

Following her gaze a fresh wave of clarity hit her, when she examined the grimm claw speechlessly. She loosened the digits and watched in wonder when the hand obliged.

Just like that she was able to extort control over it like she never had before.

‘How?’

Her eye found Salem’s again, who observed her with something akin to a lazy smile.

“It seems like I was right in my assumptions after all.”

Her voice sounded far away and yet crystal clear as if it was originating from inside Cinder herself.

“Which is why you will remain by my side as we continue your treatment.”

Leaning forward, Cinder captured Salem’s lips. She had expected to be stopped by her master, to be chided again, but instead the older woman deepened the kiss, stilling the hunger that had eaten away at the dark haired girl.

This felt so much better than the pain she had had to endure for so long.

“Yes”, she rasped contently.

She would get back on her own two feet in no time.

Salem would make sure of that.

[nev3rfound]

the swan : chp.1 - the past (b.b)

nurse, friend, lover, assassin. these are the titles you were known under in his head, something he never wished to share until rumours spread of the swan being out of retirement. 

overview / chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five / chapter six / chapter seven / chapter eight / chapter nine / chapter ten / chapter eleven / chapter twelve (final chapter)

You followed the two guards down the long corridor as cries echoed through the doors. It was hard not to ignore the screams and the sight of hands pleading against the metal bars, wishing for the pain to be brought to an end. All you could do was keep your eyes set dead ahead, awaiting your first role within the company. 

It wasn’t the job you intended to become a career. Growing up you helped your Father in the great war as a child, you were a natural healer, someone to be relied on in a time of a crisis. Some say this entire place is a crisis, hence why you were instructed to be brought with no choice. 

They came to your house, bursting through the door as your Mother fell limply to the ground. You saw a flash of fear in your Fathers eyes as he told you to run before a knife impaled him. And that was when they walked towards you with a sharp needle, causing everything to disappear until you awoke in an empty room and listened to the instructions. 

“We need you to look after our soldat, Ms Y/L/N.” A voice boomed into the room as you sat with your legs close to your chest, the images slowly replaying like a nightmare, one that unfortunately wasn’t a figure of imagination. 

The instructions were strict, ones you had to abide if you ever wished to see your family again. Hearing the word again gave you hope that possibly they might still be alive, they’re somewhere unknown, much like your current location. 

“This is your new home, you will look after our Soldat, keep him alive.” The voice repeated this fact, whoever the soldat was, he had to make it out of your door in better shape than when he is brought in. 

The guards in front of you come to a halt, moving either side of the large door whilst you hesitated. You lift your hand to your necklace, fiddling with the pendant belonging to your mother, a gift given days before you were taken. 

“Vash ofis.” One guard speaks up, and you simply nod as you lift your shaky hand as you push the door open, hearing the hinges creak loudly like the screams that line the walls. 

Before you is a large desk, filled with equipment you could not begin to comprehend. There is a small bed in the corner of the room, a bathroom to the side of that. But your eyes fall to the large metal slab that has been recently wiped down. 

As you walk in slowly you look around, seeing a guard quickly step in as your eyes spot the blood stain on the tiles. He moves to stand over it, his cold gaze meeting yours before you turn away, knowing best not to ask questions if you wanted to stand a chance. 

Wiping your hands on your dress you let out a shaky breath. “Is this my room?” You nervously ask, turning to face the guards as you pull on your sleeves, covering your hands. 

The guards share a look and you let out a silent sigh, Russian would be something you’d have to master eventually. “Eto miss tvoya komnata.” 

This is your room, Miss.

Nodding you walk around, your delicate fingertips lining the trays of equipment laid out neatly for your use only. You knew a few details from the voice in that room, they told you as little as they could in order to prepare you for the worst. What the worse may be feels irrelevant having experienced these past few hours, or days. The current time and date remain unknown to you as you’re hidden away with no sign of a clock or calendar. 

As you turn the two guards walk out of the room, slamming the door behind them. Instead of running towards the large door, banging incessantly you move towards the small bed and curl up into it. “Maybe it’s all a dream.” You mutter under your breath as you shiver, closing your eyes in hope when they open you’ll be back home in the comfort of hearing your family laughing downstairs. But the painful reality is this, the place you’re now a Nurse, someone who has to look after a broken solider, one you have yet to meet.

*

It had been several days since you arrived, but you still hadn’t met him. 

Every day, twice a day someone appears with a tray of food and pills. No one explained what they were, but waited until you swallowed them before leaving. You were simply instructed to wake up, eat and then sleep. Not once did a single person mention their solider and when he would be due in, it was almost a taboo subject for them. 

And then it happened. 

You were sat behind your desk, fiddling with one of the scalpels when the door burst open. Immediately you rose to your feet in a blind panic, reaching for the knife you kept in your back pocket, but then multiple figures appeared in the room. 

“Privesit yego v.” Bring him in. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat you listened to the sounds of chains being dragged across the floor. Two guards held the lifeless figure, forcing him into the room as his feet barely left the floor. 

His head remained hidden as it was slumped forward, dark brown hair covering his face from my view as I kept my eyes trained on my equipment, wondering what I would have to do first. 

“Miss Y/L/N. He is here.” The one soldier who spoke fluent English speaks up as they place the man on the cold table, his body slamming but he doesn’t moan in pain, he remains silent. 

“Thank you.” You mutter as you slowly move from behind the desk, standing in front of the trays that he’ll quickly notice. 

One by one the guards exit the room until you’re stood alone with the man sitting before you. Unsure what to do you wait for him to reveal himself, but he remains perfectly still. “Can you tell me where it hurts, Sir?” Your voice is weak, frightened of the figure you’ve been instructed to keep alive. This man is the reason you’re here, the only means of your survival for the future. 

The man slowly lifts his head as your heart rises to your throat, suffocating you as his hair parts, revealing dark blue eyes lifelessly staring back at you. 

His lips part against the thick stubble lining his jaw, but he merely tilts his head at the sight of you. “Everywhere.” His Russian accent is thick, and he slowly hides himself away, the chains rattling along the metal slab. 

Sighing you push yourself off of the desk, standing slightly closer. “I’m going to need a bit more information than that, Sir. Such as where the source of your pain is.” 

The soldier tilts his head up before turning to his arm, pulling his sleeve down to reveal something completely alien to you. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat you compose yourself for the strangers' sake, unsure how he expects you to react to the sight before you. 

His entire arm is metal, sharp pieces sticking out as opposed to gliding smoothly where skin should be. Where the metal joined the skin it looks infected, it was recent by the looks of it. The skin is inflamed, red raw as it is flaked with dry blood buried beneath the metal. You could see exactly where it was joined, the awful operations that must’ve taken place to create such a thing. 

Nodding you turn around, telling yourself step by step what ought to be the best means of this and how to help ease his pain. “This may sting.” Your voice softens as he remains emotionless, no voice behind the large figure. 

As you placed the cotton pad on the joint he didn’t even flinch. It was the sort of thing soldiers you had dealt with screamed at, cried out in agony. But not him, he was numb to all of it. 

Removing the pad you smiled to yourself, already seeing the wound clearly without the dried blood and severe inflammation distracting you. 

“How would you like to be addressed, Sir? I’ve only heard you discussed as a Soldier, but every soldier I’ve met has at least a name.” You somehow find confidence in your voice as you work on the silent man, easing the discomfort with every movement he’ll take with his arm. 

Glancing up you watch as his eyes remain on you, void of emotion he just stares like a robot. “I’m the Soldat, Miss.” He mutters under his breath and you force a heavy sigh. 

“That’s it?” You question, but he turns away refusing to give you anything else.

You continue to work in silence, knowing an attempt at conversation is pointless. The man before you is a complete stranger, a machine to these people that they need alive. Whatever or whoever he may be, he is important. 

Pulling on the last bit of thread you cut the ties off before turning around and hearing the door open. Three men stand before you, all with guns to their chests. 

Holding back the uneasy breath you clear your throat. “I think that should help with the pain he’s experiencing in his shoulder. But he should rest, he needs it.” You inform the guards, not knowing if they understand a single word you’re saying. 

Instead, two guards pick the Solider up before slumping him out of the room without another word whilst the third guard nods before slamming your door shut. You stand still, hands gripping your desk harder than you realised as you finally breathe for the first time since the man entered your office.  

*

Every other day he is brought in by the same three guards. He sits in silence as you find a new injury to heal, ease the pulsing of blood that soaks his clothing. 

Humming to yourself as you stand behind him, wiping the gash on his shoulder blade you watch as he tenses. “That song.” He mutters, his accent somehow thicker, but for a split second, you almost sense emotion burning through. 

“It’s a lullaby my Mother once sang to me.” You inform him, singing it ever so lightly and he relaxes under your touch. 

What you can’t see is the confusion on the Soldiers face, why such a thing would convey anything from him. But there was something familiar about that song, the soft tones in your voice as your lips remained closed. He eased into it, closing his eyes willingly, every fear vanishing for a split second. 

But it was short lived.

The door swung open and rather than beeline for their Soldier, you were their victim. You were thrown against your desk, yelling harshly as the Soldier watched. The men began yelling in Russian, not understanding a single word you just covered your head, cowering until you felt a strong kick in your side. 

You only opened your eyes at the sound of the door locking, and you were alone once again, singing to yourself like your Mother would after a nightmare. But she’s not here to ease you out of this one, you’d have to survive alone. 

*

After that, you reframed from talking to him. You worked in silence, ignoring the questions burning you inside as they itched in your mouth, desperate to crawl out of your lips. 

“You’re English?” Snapping out of your deep thoughts he speaks up. 

Hesitantly you lift your head up, facing the cold eyes as you simply nod in response. He notices as you wince at the sudden movement, one that clearly caught you off guard. “Sorry.” You mumble as you place your hand on your ribs ever so lightly, the slightest of pressure increasing the pain.  

“They hurt you, didn’t they?” You wish you had the willpower to laugh, but you keep your lips sealed, nodding instead. “Are you a mute?” 

You stare at him dead in the eyes, “No.” Stating the fact you wait for him to speak up, but instead he allows you to continue working in the comfortable silence. 

Silence was safer. You’d learnt your role is to simply heal him physically, the scars within go much deeper than those on the surface.

“Bucky.” He whispers, barely making it audible. “My, my name.” You lean closer into him as he mutters it once again, careful of the ears in the walls. 

He can almost see the smile ghosting your lips as you rub them together, his heart pangs lightly before it freezes over too quickly. “Well,” You clear your throat as you turn around, placing your equipment back on the tray knowing you’ll soon be interrupted. “it’s nice to meet you, Bucky.” 

taglist (thank you for the endless support on this series)

@callie-bear15 @vgirl10123 @markusstraya @krystallynx @toxic-pineapple @not-jarred-padaleki @tearsforhan @worldofchoices 

[hookaroo]

A Captain’s Heart (23 of 33?)

Chapter 1 Chapter 22

Rated T for language and graphic descriptions of injuries.

Also on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12937105/1/A-Captain-s-Heart

Tagging @therooksshiningknight & @killian-whump by request :)

Marvel’s well-meant warning was not nearly enough to deter Killian from trying to get free. As soon as she was out of sight, his wrists were up by his mouth, the ropes between his teeth despite the ache from a heavily bruised jaw. For having had less than a fortnight’s practice with her hands, Marvel had managed frustratingly admirable knots. Long centuries of observing, it seemed, had taught her the theory, and a clever brain allowed her to replicate her memories.

The tangle of knots was out of range on the undersides of his arms, so Killian set to work trying to tighten all but one strand that encircled him. He hoped to find enough slack to slip his hand through: that would significantly simplify the rest of the process. No such luck, though. Despite Marvel’s concern for his well-being, she’d had no qualms against tightening the ropes too securely.

The most obvious course of action would be to slip his stump free from the brace. Then there would be enough room to free the other arm. But Killian hesitated. For one thing, the leather was concealing the increasingly-sore wrist’s end, controlling the bleeding and allowing him to pretend, for the most part, that nothing was wrong. The other thing, though, was the inevitable pain of the procedure, and he just wasn’t desperate enough to bring that upon himself. Yet.

He still had the ropes between his teeth when Marvel returned, carrying bandages and a glass of water. Her frown at his position was less angry than sad.

“Love, please,” she whined. “Just rest.”

“Not my forte,” Killian reminded her between tugs. She knelt beside him and grasped the knot. Sighing, Killian didn’t resist her as she pulled his arms downward.

“Your lovely Swan would ask the same.” She lifted the water glass and helped him to drink half.

“Were she here, we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” grimaced Killian. Another lash mark was opening up on his back, and it was growing progressively more uncomfortable to be resting against the wood, even through a pillow.

Marvel made no reply, resolute in her decision. She unhooked the remainder of his shirt’s buttons, then paused, at a loss. With a shrug, she pressed a large gauze pad over the saturated bandage covering his Excalibur wound, holding it in place with one hand while she unrolled a long linen strip with the other. Killian fidgeted uneasily, not thrilled with the idea of what she was intending to do.

“Marvel, darling, perhaps this isn’t-”

She slipped an arm around his side, then wormed it behind his lower back, below the ropes binding his torso. He snapped his jaw shut and hissed as she inadvertently brushed against several inflamed cuts. Killian arched his back as much as possible in an effort to allow her arm passage. Despite her caution, she also bumped his tender ribs, and he cringed away. Marvel winced right along with him.

“I’m sorry, dearest,” she murmured. As quickly as she could, she snagged one end of the linen and tugged it through. When she saw the streaks of blood on her arm as she pulled it out, she paled.

She could curse with the best of them, and it was almost enough to draw a chuckle from the anguished pirate.

Marvel tied a tight knot to hold the gauze in place, then straightened. She looked scared. “Your back. How bad is it?”

“The concern is probably less the severity, more the sheer number,” he grunted candidly.

“A flogging?” she guessed.

“More than one.”

“What should we do?”

“Assuming an immediate return to Emma is out of the question?” He raised a wry eyebrow and she nodded firmly. “Untying me would be a good start.”

Marvel looked thoughtful and completely ignored the suggestion. “Perhaps I could attempt to heal you. Her Holiness Eris may have taken away your natural ability to heal, but she said nothing of magic use by another.”

“Give it a go,” Killian told her, though he doubted it would work. It seemed too simple a solution for Eris to have overlooked it.

“Problem is… I haven’t the foggiest how to even begin.” She placed a hand over the short slash on his cheek. Maybe starting small would give her confidence. “How does your Swan manage?”

“I’m… a bit clueless, myself,” Killian admitted. “Something to do with emotion, I gather.”

Marvel made a face. “I’m not exactly an expert in emotion.”

But she closed her eyes, and after a moment, so did Killian. The pirate sat as still as he could for a long while; he didn’t wish to distract Marvel from her efforts, however unlikely she was to succeed. He would gladly take any relief from his multiplying pains, in whatever form it took.

With the human ship in such close proximity and distracted by a state of deep concentration, Killian could easily overpower her. Lift his tied hands over her head, manipulate the rope to block her airway. He had no wish to do so, of course, but his reluctance was arguably in a similar vein to her own motives: placing her well-being above those that could be harmed by Eris’ mischief. Wouldn’t it be hypocritical of him not to make the attempt?

The logic didn’t make it any easier to follow through, and his irritation with her earlier decision quickly faded. Why did the right path always have to be so damn difficult to take?

Just as Killian was bracing himself for the physical and emotional pain that would accompany his attack, Marvel suddenly lunged forward and locked her lips over his. Killian’s surprise chased away all thoughts of his plan. He sat stunned for several seconds, passive, with the unfamiliar and awkwardly unpracticed kiss happening to him but not with him. And then the shock dissipated and left him feeling only pity.

Gently, Killian turned his face aside and placed his hand on her midsection, pushing her away. She was immediately searching his face, chest, and shoulders.

“Marvel, what-”

“Did it work?” she asked, breathless.

“Work?” So thrown by the unexpected kiss that he was having trouble keeping up, Killian shook his head in bewilderment.

“You said True Love’s Kiss could reverse the curse. So, are you cured?”

Killian blinked at her. And in that instant, the cut from Gold’s cane, just below his left eyebrow, split and oozed blood down the corner of his eye. Marvel’s face fell.

“It didn’t work.” The crestfallen woman took a square of gauze and patted away the blood, and Killian’s heart ached for her. He couldn’t bring himself to explain the reason, the mechanics behind True Love’s Kiss. He didn’t doubt the sincerity on her part; the trouble was on his end. But even though he would only be speaking the truth, he just couldn’t remind Marvel that he didn’t love her. Not like that, anyway.

“Do you see now?” asked Marvel. Her tone was desperate, almost angry. “We can’t go back to Emma. She can’t help you. To save you, we must travel to the island. It’s the only way.”

“I don’t… it’s still…” He sighed. “Oh, love… it may be different. With Emma, I mean.”

She looked confused at first. Then her expression hardened as his meaning began to sink in. She got slowly to her feet, avoiding his gaze. “I ought to… confirm our heading. Please stay here.”

Killian closed his eyes and let his head sink back against the pillow. But he couldn’t escape the sadness he’d witnessed. The muting of her spirit, the dulling of her sparkle. From the moment he had truly accepted her identity, he had wished only contentment for her. He never wanted her to have to experience what a human life meant. How hard it was. And now here she was, in the thick of it. Absorbing blow after blow, while he sat powerless to protect her.

And unless he allowed her to turn over the damned potion to Eris, and the goddess removed the curse in thanks, Marvel would experience the hardest lesson of all: loss.

By the time Marvel returned, Killian had fallen into a light doze - the best he could manage with the methodical tearing of his flesh in different places every few moments. At first, he didn’t react to her kneeling beside him. But then he felt the ropes around his chest twitching, and he dragged a weary eye open.

“Decided to release me, did you?” His heart wasn’t really in the banter, but old habits. Marvel wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“I need to see your back.” The coils of rope gathered at hip level, still encircling the mast but significantly more loosely. “Perhaps you could turn and lean sort of sideways against the mast?”

Killian understood what she was asking, but questioned his ability to assume the position without significant pain. At the very least, the wriggling about would pull at the open wounds littering his skin, possibly hastening the curse’s effects. Gingerly, he shifted his weight more toward his left hip, then bent his knees slightly, inching his heels back until his feet rested flat against the deck. There he paused to catch his breath: the increased pressure against his back was agonizing, and every twitch of his abdominal muscles tugged at the searing Excalibur wound in his gut. It was still superficial, centimeters deep at most, but Killian harbored no illusions. As the curse continued to act upon him, the wound would follow its original course straight through him. Opening muscle, viscera, blood vessels… finally resulting in a chasm as fatal as the first. He could already feel the exit wound stinging, almost indistinguishable from the rest of the lacerations on his back. But Killian remembered. He could differentiate.

Wincing, he allowed his knees to topple to the left, at the same time twisting his upper body in short lurches until all of his weight rested against his left hip and shoulder. Marvel nodded encouragingly, unsure how else to provide assistance. Killian growled through an intense wave of pain that left him shuddering and nauseated. He fidgeted again in a vain effort to make himself more comfortable.

“This would be significantly easier if you were to untie my arms,” he panted, the flesh surrounding his eyes tight with pain. Marvel looked sympathetic but held to her resolve.

“I’m sorry, dear; you know I can’t do that.”

Killian centered his weight once more. “Ah. Well, in that case…”

His sudden lunge up onto his knees definitely took the woman by surprise. A second push hurtled him sideways toward Marvel. Lifting his bound arms, he reached for her, intending to wrestle her to the ground and force her to release him. Or maybe knock her senseless until he could regain control of the situation.

He didn’t anticipate the terrifying dip in vision resulting from his head wound. Or how much his equilibrium would be thrown off by blood loss. Or how stiff his joints were, how swollen his injuries, how diminished his capacity for movement. As Marvel ducked by instinct, Killian’s blow missed completely. He managed to vault most of the ropes piling around his lower legs, but that only meant he ended up sprawled on the deck, feet entangled, arms uselessly outstretched. The impact knocked the breath from him, ratcheted his anguish noticeably higher... but somehow didn’t cause him to lose consciousness altogether.

As Killian struggled to pull a breath, he was already writhing into a position more amenable to pushing himself up. But he kept slipping on the blood spattering the wood beneath him.

Marvel’s whine of consternation drove into his dazed brain. Killian pulled his arms inward, attempting to put at least one elbow beneath him. His blunted wrist sparked with agony as he rested weight on it. A quieter twinge in his shoulder echoed the sentiment.

Only seconds had gone by, and Killian felt as if he were trying to swim through honey. And breathe it, too; though his lungs burned, he could get no air. Halfway up on to his elbow, he felt a cool hand cover his eyes. His mind grew remarkably more muddled, his trembling muscles went limp. With one more thrash, Killian vented his frustration at the situation and then surrendered.

Marvel caught him just before he struck the wood again, and his eyes closed in magical slumber.

The next time Killian woke, it was to find himself in almost the same position as before: bound to the mast, more ropes than previously. Feet and legs secure. This time, though, his mummified right wrist was attached to his side by several coils of rope around his waist. Bandage linen extended over his hand, freezing his fingers into a fist and obstructing his ability to worry any of the knots loose. Wasted effort, really, given the reawakening wrist fracture that would seriously hinder such attempts anyway.

Killian couldn’t prevent a tiny groan at all of the pains trickling back into his awareness. Every one of them worse than before… and fated to grow worse still.

A gentle hand was holding his aching stump. Another blotted the raw end, ruthlessly removing blood and trying to assess the seriousness of the wound. Fighting his instinct to pull back from the tortures, Killian finally forced his eyes open.

The usual disorientation was not at all alleviated by how dark it had gotten. Had he slept the whole day away? That would infer that they had already been to the island and left. Blinking, Killian slowly tilted his head to get a better view of the sky.

Not dusk. Ash. A hazy plume blanketed the sun, swirling bits of pulverized rock looking like sand and bubbles caught in a breaking wave. And now that he could see it, he realized he could smell it, too. Sulfurous menace; boiling, burning rock; toxic filth not unlike the scent of the Underworld itself.

The next touch against his amputation had extra bite to it, and Killian jerked his arm back, hissing in pain. Marvel’s grasp faltered, but she didn’t release him completely.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Then she shifted her grip and once again extended his arm. Killian looked away. The sight had too many associated nightmares for him to stomach just then. As Marvel lay a gauze square over the bleeding scars, she added, “It must be difficult, reliving those horrible days. It hurts me, as well.”

Killian said nothing, only swallowed. She began winding another bandage around the stump in order to secure the dressing in place.

“I was so certain you would die. You made such awful noises that first night. And then later, when the fever set in and even Mister Smee was doubtful, and there was no medicine because we were already trapped in Neverland…” She tied the bandage neatly but did not release his arm, beginning instead a delicate massage of quivering muscles. “I wanted so badly to help, yet all I could do was try and remain gentle in my rocking while I prayed to all gods of the seas that you would live.”

At long last, Killian turned his face back toward her, meeting her melancholy gaze with his pained one.

“I would not have thanked you then,” he admitted. “But I do now.”

Marvel smiled softly and continued her comforting massage. “Would you have guessed, back then, how adept you would become at using the hook? How well you would adapt?”

Killian thought back to those first clumsy months and cringed; the memories were made all the more real by the myriad of accidental nicks in his skin - particularly his leg - reopening. “Not at first, no. But it does have its uses beyond the mere weapon I had intended it to be… When it hasn’t been confiscated by a mutinous sentient ship.”

He tilted his head meaningfully toward the discarded brace, as the actual hook was nowhere in sight. Marvel released his stump then, saying,

“I’ll return it after we’ve succeeded in our mission. Not before.”

Killian sighed, wracked by a sudden chill despite the almost-tropical heat in the air. “How much longer?”

Marvel looked past him to the island of their destination. “Less than an hour, I’d say. Are you cold?”

Killian gave a shake of his head, but the shivers in his jaw told a different story. Marvel quickly searched their surroundings and spotted his leather jacket, which had been discarded at some point - he couldn’t quite remember when. She hurried to collect it from its heap near the hatch.

“I could always retrieve a blanket from below, if this isn’t enough.” She returned and draped the leather backwards over his chest, tucking the lapels behind his shoulders. Too exhausted to do much beyond sit passively, Killian did not make any attempt to follow up on his earlier attack.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “And… apologies for earlier. You know I don’t want to hurt you, I just…” He trailed off. He’d made his position clear. She may not agree, but she must understand by now.

Marvel blotted blood from his forehead. “I know.”

Killian dug his blunted arm from beneath his jacket. Marvel had not yet bothered to secure the limb, and though its use caused all sorts of complaints from wrist to shoulder, the pirate appreciated that small bit of freedom. He gently but insistently pushed her arm away as he began to speak.

“I don’t demand or expect your loyalty, love. I can’t say that I even understand it. Long years together doesn’t necessarily equate to devotion.”

“Perhaps not. But a good captain does.”

“And that’s your honest assessment of me?”

“How could it be otherwise?”

With a grimace, Killian raised an eyebrow at her. “I traded you away. To bloody Blackbeard, of all people.”

Marvel shrugged. “And then got me back.”    

“By chance, not through any persistence of my own.”

“Even so. You far outvalue that ridiculous oaf. Captain Blackbeard isn’t even deserving of the title. He hemorrhages crew and squanders his wealth, and is a pompous prat to boot.”

Killian managed a tiny smile, but it didn’t last. Earnest, he searched her eyes for any hint of falsehood. “Did he at least treat you well?”

Her response was noncommittal. “More or less. Mostly the bare minimum; the occasional extra care if he felt like throwing orders around. His sailing lacks all finesse, though. It’s a wonder I came through as unscathed as I did. Both times.”

“Thank the gods,” agreed Killian. He tucked his stump beneath the jacket again, wincing. “Well, rest assured, darling, you’re quite safe from that git now. Even if he was still in possession of a magic bean, he would have had to use it to flee Neverland.”

“Neverland?” She sounded both surprised and amused.

“Aye. Damn fool was trying to escape in a row boat, last I saw him.”

“That’ll never work,” she scoffed.

“Indeed not.”  

Killian couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he would never regret the trade that had enabled him to bring Emma back.

Neither did he want to impart that the other pirate believed himself to be her rightful owner now. Again. He grimaced through another round of shivers, then said,

“Well, in terms of loyalty, you unquestionably have mine. Wholeheartedly. There will never be a vessel your equal, not even the ludicrous fire-eating contraptions in our adoptive home. And let me also add: I got the raw end of that deal. One measly bean is hardly worth even one of your lovely sails.”

Marvel grinned, pleased with his compliments. “Why, thank you, darling. But there’s no need for flattery. I already know my true value.”

She winked at him. Then, a low rumble in the distance drew her attention to the horizon, and she stood. “I should take a sounding. Are you comfortable enough?”

“I’ll survive,” Killian replied ironically. There was no guarantee of that, even if they did hand the potion over. Eris herself had admitted to her unpredictability. And if he was in rough shape now, he couldn't imagine his state after several more hours had elapsed.

Unaware of his pessimism, Marvel scurried away to attend to the business of sailing. And, left to his own devices, Killian could finally get to work on the plan that had been formulating in his mind ever since the first moment his jacket had been laid upon him. Poor Marvel - her act of compassion would turn out to be her downfall.

Of course, wiggling his sore and heavily bandaged stump into the pocket containing his rescued hook was far more easily imagined than accomplished. Especially without drawing attention to himself. Killian disguised his movements as attempts to seek a more comfortable position, complete with winces that were only slightly exaggerated. He eventually had to take the leather between his teeth in order to keep it from sliding down his shoulders; he also trapped the other edge between tied hand and torso. And then it was simply a matter of inching his way inside.

The pocket was just wide enough to accommodate the bandages, although the top layers were pulled back as his wrist slipped deeper. Through the lining, Killian could feel the hook’s outline against his ribs and used that as a guide. He would have to snag either tip or locking mechanism under a strip of linen and then draw it out without dislodging it.

Another booming rumble shook the mast; Killian was a tiny bit grateful that he couldn’t see the volcano ahead. It was sure to be an awesome and terrifying sight. The ash polluting the air had grown thicker, flakes and tendrils of char curling on the breeze, coating the deck, staining the sails. He thought of the toxic gases mentioned by Eris: how was one to know where the boundary lay? Whether the window of respite had truly begun? When they sailed past the point of no return and collapsed into a choking, dying heap?

The hook shifted in his pocket, resisting Killian’s efforts to catch it with a stray strip of linen. He cursed softly and pressed harder than he wanted to. A shock of pain from the aggravated nerves nearly convinced him to give up. The steel tip was positioned perilously close to the lacerated wrist, and he cringed at the thought of puncturing the throbbing flesh. But with extreme caution, he managed to tilt the weapon by degrees until it posed less of a threat, and then he inched his stump forward. Success. He could feel one strip of bandage tighten around his arm as the hook was pushed beneath. Killian added a slight twist of the wrist before attempting to withdraw it, hoping to add security to the captive hook.

Pulling his stump from the pocket was just as difficult and painful a process, especially once the steel neared the seam. Afraid it would catch and be pushed out of the bandage, Killian twisted his arm further, which set off explosions of pain in the old spear wound through his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to move slowly and patiently while maneuvering past the pocket’s opening.

His caution was rewarded. The hook slipped through the hole, one intense moment of pain occurring when the tip dug into his inner wrist, but he was fairly certain it did not break the skin. With a discreet glance at Marvel to be sure she was still distracted, Killian removed the rest of his arm from the pocket, hook dangling obediently from the wrapping. Casually, the pirate adjusted his arm until it disappeared beneath the jacket, then bent his elbow and rested his stump across his abdomen. There was just enough give in the rope securing his hand that he could reach up and retrieve the prized weapon. Even tied into a fist, even with a sore-as-hell wrist, his hand was strong and flexible, and he had no difficulty gripping the base of the hook between thumb and palm.

Killian let his head fall back and relaxed his shoulder, releasing a sigh of relief. More struggle lay ahead, but he believed the hardest part was over. Or�� the hardest part of freeing himself, at least. What came after would be a different story.

AN: Decided to combine what used to be two chapters here so that we don’t end on an unconscious Killian AGAIN :P So if you noticed a change in estimated chapter count, that’s why!

[noikracs]

Summary: Part 2 of when Reiji is in the hospital, when Sugai and Tajima decide to read his file

After the whole thing went down and Reiji was checked on by one of the doctor’s, he fell back to sleep in Tajima’s arms while Sugai had his arms wrapped around the boy.

“The nurse said we should probably look at the file...” Tajima mumbled.

Sugai already tried, he just couldn’t do it anymore. But he didn’t want to tell Tajima he went on without him, so he simply nodded, grabbing the file.

Taking a deep breath, Sugai asked nervously, “Are— are you sure you want to do this?”

“We need to know what’s wrong so we can help him,” said Tajima, putting on the bravest face he could manage.

Sugai slowly nodded once again before opening it, and giving enough room for Tajima to read also.

Patient Information:

Name: Reiji Sunada

Age: 15 Years

Date of Birth: 21 April 2004

Abilities/Notable Factors: Tendrils come out of the back that can shock when wet

Alias: ‘Eel’

Reason for access to Med Bay: Deathly injuries

 

Tajima paused, pressed a kiss to Reiji’s forehead and took a third breath before delving into the actual part of the report which was most difficult to read.

 

List of Injuries and/or Health Conditions by Assumed Date of Occurrence:

Mild taser burns on sides of abdomen and neck

Lip split and bitten into

Bruising on right eye, left cheekbone, ribs, stomach and neck

Bullet wound – entry through back, lodged next to left shoulder blade and scarring from bullet extraction surgery

Additional bruising to right side of face, cheekbone and temple

Eighty cuts and lacerations increasing in depth and severity covering back and hips

Evidence of drowning and subsequent health complications including the following:

Water Inhalation – Pulmonary Edema – Hypoxia – Respiratory Failure – Patient was most likely held underwater without air for extended periods of time before unconsciousness occurred *

 

Sugai and Tajima both stared at the Asterix and followed to the next page over where there was another section of writing. They were suddenly very glad that the people they hired were thorough because someone had printed information and research on something called secondary drowning, which Reiji had apparently experienced.

 

* ‘Inhaled water leads to a condition given the name ‘secondary drowning,’ which is when water gets into the lungs where it can irritate the lungs’ lining and fluid can build up, causing a condition called Pulmonary Edema. Pulmonary Edema (Symptoms: Extreme shortness of breath or difficulty breathing (dyspnea) that worsens with activity or when lying down, a feeling of suffocating or drowning that worsens when lying down, wheezing or gasping for breath, cold or clammy skin, anxiety, restlessness or a sense of apprehension, a cough that produces frothy sputum that may be tinged with blood, blue-tinged lips, a rapid or irregular heartbeat (palpitations)) causes respiratory failure due to hypoxia  hypoxia is a deficiency in the amount of oxygen reaching the tissues (symptoms: change in skin colour, increased or decreased heart rate, rapid breathing, shortness of breath, sweating, wheezing).

Sugai flipped back to the other page, determined to push through and finish reading the list of injuries.

 

Open bone biopsy on hip, knee and shoulder – Patient not administered anaesthetics and was likely forced to walk immediately after surgery

Patient appears to have been kept in early stages of hypothermia for extended durations of time

Patient appears to have undergone some form of sensory attack and deprivation due to increased sensitivity to light and sound

Severe ankle breakage – likely caused through weight dropped onto limb and continuous disruption and aggravation to the broken bone after breakage

Severe Asphyxiation – likely caused by strangulation

Additional bruising to jaw and mouth area causing second split lip

Severe bruising across entire face

Three broken ribs, two fractures

Trauma to eye socket likely caused by multiple blows

Bloody nose due to assumed assault

Dislocated shoulder

Injuries consistent to those of beaten and/or assaulted patients

Thoracentesis surgery without anaesthetic – needle inserted into pleural space between lung and chest walls, likely to remove excess fluids (pleural effusion) from the pleural space to improve ability to breathe

Shattered hyoid bone and evidence of poorly-executed bone reconstruction surgery

Severe Epiglottitis – condition which occurs when tissue protecting windpipe becomes inflamed

Please note that the patient was administered a fibreoptic intubation procedure without anaesthetics or ventilator to assist breathing

Extreme fever caused by infections *

 

* ‘Infections in both lungs’ air sacs causing them to swell – Caused Pneumonia

Respiratory tract infection in upper and lower respiratory tracts

Pharyngitis – caused by severe swelling in pharynx and larynx

Severe Sepsis throughout body (condition arises when body’s response to infection causes injury to tissues and organs)

Multiple opportunistic infections (infections caused by patients weakened immune system and deteriorating physical health)’

 

Evidence of more water inhalation and an increase in the severity of multiple infections

Evidence that the patient underwent severe and final stages of hypothermia

All external wounds were re-opened for reasons unknown

Severe electrical burns on points of contact (both temples, toes, fingers) and contusions/abrasions from suspected metal clamps and plates used to administer high amount of electrical currents

Severe injures from restraints on ankles, wrists, all joints, chest, collarbone, hips, temples and neck

Severe electrocution

Severe hypovolemic shock caused by amount of blood loss

Major concussion

Throat inflammation caused by screaming

Multitude of severe contusions and abrasions

Evidence of multiple seizures and spasms

Extreme starvation

Extreme dehydration

Extreme sleep deprivation

 

Interesting/Unexplained Features:

Gasoline residue found on clothing and skin – inhalation of these subsequent fumes caused high risk carbon monoxide poisoning which is the likely cause of the seizures and heart arrhythmias

Surgery guidelines over skull and spine despite no evidence of any surgical procedures

Finger-shaped bruises in unusual places such as hips, thighs, lower back and shoulder blades

Wound on chest had been carved into the patient in order to cause emotional and psychological damage

Although no anaesthetics were administered to the patient, they suffered from (intentional) Opioid-Induced Hyperalgesia * and extreme amounts of Varenicline * which were found in the patient’s system

 

* ‘Opioid-Induced Hyperalgesia is a state of nociceptive sensitization caused by exposure to opioids. The rare condition is characterised by a paradoxical response in which a patient receiving medication (specifically opioids) for the treatment of pain actually becomes more sensitive to certain painful stimuli. In this patients’ case: (Reiji Sunada) the specific synthesis of drugs he was unwillingly supplied with were used to intentionally increase the amount of pain felt during and following most experiments and attacks.’

 

* ‘Varenicline goes by the brand name ‘Chantix’ and has been highly scrutinised for causing severe neuropsychiatric adverse events including abnormal dreams, nightmares, night terrors, aggression, anxiety, heavy fatigue, insomnia, irritability, somnolence (sleepwalking) and other various sleep disorders.’

Tajima choked back a sob. “Baby— my baby—” he buried his nose in Reiji’s hair, crying.

The slightly older man wiped a few tears. “I can’t— I can’t comprehend how he could’ve went through all that...”

“Dad’s?” a small voice called, Reiji looking worried.

Sugai gave the best smile he could manage. “Hey, love. How are you feeling?”

With a shrug, Reiji mumbled, “My back hurts a bit but I’m fine. Why are you crying? Are you reading my file?” he asked quietly.

“We’re sorry, sweetheart, we just needed to make sure y—”

“No, it’s f—fine. I understand.”

Tajima asked nervously, “Are you hungry now, bambino?” He was just worried Reiji would end up starving at his own will.

And not to his surprise, Reiji shook his head. “No. I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” asked Sugai, his larger, calloused hands cupping the boy’s cheeks gently.

Reiji nodded. “Yeah. I can’t tell if it’s a habit or the fact I j—just am not used to eating really.”

Even though part of him was afraid to ask, Tajima did ask, “When could you eat, sweetheart?”

“Every four days,” he responded, trying to seem nonchalant about it, but he wanted to sob.

Sugai inhaled sharply. “What— what could you eat?”

The boy looked like he was thinking for a moment before mumbling, “Bread was the usual. Though sometimes I’d have oatmeal.” Again, he wanted to sob but he kept it in.

“B—baby, you know you can cry, right? It’s okay, you are safe,” reassured Tajima, rubbing small circles into his cheek.

Reiji sniffled. “I—I know, it’s just a habit, I—I guess.”

There was a pause before Sugai said lovingly, “Take your time, sweetheart. We c—can be patient.” Though his voice was quivering, Reiji nodded.

“Can I go back to sleep?” asked the boy quietly.

Tajima and Sugai instantly nodded as Reiji’s eyes slowly drifted shut.

Everything’s going to be okay.

[zalrb]

how do you think SE rain kiss and wedding would go for them compared to the de and sc ones

SC didn’t have a rain kiss?

But I have a couple of descriptions of an SE rain kiss. There’s this one:

Thunder cracked loud and sharp and Stefan snapped his head toward his bedroom door, the white glare of the lighting etching out his silhouette. He heard nothing but the storm but he sensed … he felt …

Swiftly, he stood up from his chair and rushed out of his bedroom, running down the stairs, his feet loud and clunky on the steps, his mind racing. He sped into the foyer and wrenched open the front door. Elena had just made it onto the porch, out of breath and completely soaked; her hair stringy and wet, her jeans and sweater sodden. She stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed and Stefan looked at her rain-washed face, his jaw tremoring at seeing her pained expression.

“I have to leave, Stefan,” she said, yelling above the noise of the storm.  “Too many people have gotten hurt. Too much has happened.”  

“What?” said Stefan, stepping out of the doorway and onto the porch. He was drenched almost immediately; the bluster of the wind had made the rainfall haphazard and powerful. “No. This is your home, your friends are here, this house is yours —”

“I have to,” said Elena. “I can’t be here, Stefan. I …” She shook her head quickly and ran both of her hands through her wet hair. “Do you know how hard it is to be so close to you and not be able to be with you? For two weeks I stayed in bed because I knew the moment I left Bonnie’s house, the moment I just left the room, I’d rush over here to see you and …”

“So I’ll leave,” said Stefan. “If anyone has to go it should be —”

“No!” Elena’s yell was outdone by another burst of thunder and the downpour pounded on them still even harder.

“I’m not going far, just back on campus,” said Elena. “But I can’t do this. I can’t not be a part of your life but be reminded of you every day. And I can’t ask you to be with me, I can’t ask you to put me before Damon, that isn’t fair to you. Or him. So…” Elena took a steadying breath, trying not to blubber. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, Stefan, but I’m also doing this for you.”

Stefan looked up to the sky, sniffing loudly to keep himself from crying anymore, wiping the rain out of his eyes. Elena’s lips started to tremble and quickly she turned around to head back toward her car. Stefan watched her go, her figure illuminated in flashes with each appearance the lightning made, forked in the sky.

He felt it all.

Their combined desperation for him to act on his own urges and to fulfill Elena’s wishes was an unbearable knot that twisted in his chest and choked his throat. His blood screamed with the sheer anguish Elena was in having to walk away from him; that same sense of crushing loss, of her crushing loss, lay waste to his body, and a chasm burrowed in his gut so that it was as if a part of him was missing. Stefan squeezed his eyes shut. Normally, he’d react to this kind of sorrow by numbing his senses but he couldn’t because it was Elena’s grief, not his, and instead it intensified his yearning for her, deepened his reckless need to kiss her pain away, to hold her until she felt safe, to embrace her and feel her, to never let her go. And he knew she felt his need, he knew it was a constant twinge in her chest that crazed her. It was nothing short of torture to feel this kind of love, to share this kind of love and not engage in it; Stefan felt suffocated by his own discipline. It was intolerable, it was excruciating, it was … it was …

“Wait!”

Elena stopped walking, standing a few feet away from her car, and turned around to face Stefan. For a split second they gazed at each other, their eyes forging a link between them, and then Stefan walked purposefully toward her, his feet splashing in miniature puddles, and he thrust his lips against hers, seizing either side of her face with his hands, clutching onto her as if daring her to try and walk away from him. Elena immediately slipped her hands around to the back of Stefan’s head, the wet strands of his hair tickling her fingers, and pushed herself deeper into the kiss, her mouth opening his with frenzy, with greed. She moaned quietly at the taste of his tongue, the soft sincerity of his lips, as Stefan flattened his palms against her spine, squeezing her to him, his nails digging into the material of her sweater, itching to pierce through and feel her, really feel her. Elena arched her back and stood up on tiptoe, her arms around his neck, feeling at once complete and in dire need of more, as if no amount of time with Stefan would ever make up for the time she’d gone without him. Stefan gripped her waist, her hips, relishing the simple fact that she was against him, wanting so severely to leave her breathless and anchored, stunned and grounded. All of his wants, all of her hopes, the full extent of their pain and their yearning passed between them in this kiss, wreaking havoc on their bodies, culminating into a suffocating desire to — to —

Elena wrenched away from Stefan and he contracted with anguished bewilderment. No! He felt the word reverberate throughout his entire body; his very core was screaming “no”, screaming for her to return to him. But just as quickly as she pulled away from the kiss did Elena put her hands at the bottom of Stefan’s shirt and hastily pull it up and over his head, throwing it onto the ground. The rain shattered down on Stefan’s bare back and Elena lunged forward, pressing her lips against his neck, smoothing her palms over the tautness of his chest, the curve of his shoulders and she nipped her way along his jaw, down to his collarbone, making Stefan close his eyes and sigh, his hand grasping her waist. Elena’s kissing inflamed his skin and seemed to almost burn the raindrops on his torso. He grabbed either side of her face yet again and lifted her head upward, kissing her voraciously, groaning as she tugged on his lower lip with her teeth. He used his speed to push her back to the porch and against a wall, her back slamming against the brick of the Salvatore Mansion, his body slamming against hers. With a jerk Stefan ripped the front of Elena’s sweater in half, his fingers already undoing her bra clasp. He kissed her beneath her jaw, along her throat, her gasps urging him on, inflaming his already riotous desire for her. He brushed his lips against her ear and savoured the heat of her chest against his, the rain acting as a coolant on their incensed skin.

And this is from the first  SE ff I ever wrote so it’s a little rough:

There’s a bench outside of their dorm and I think about sitting onit but then choose to stand. I look up to their window and see that while thelights aren’t on, a lamp is, which means someone is in. I rub my hand over myface, wiping the rain from my eyes. This is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous.The thought of whether or not Damon ever skulked outside the dorms while he andElena were broken up enters my mind and then images of them making up in herroom appear unbidden in my head; on the bed, against the wall, on her desk.It’s not like the idea hadn’t occurred to me before but then, they were metwith stabs or irritation’ now, I have the bizarre urge to dig into my skull andrip the images out of my head. I can’t be here. I can’t be home. I can’t —

“Stefan?”

And her voice is like a punch in the chest and I have no choice butto turn around; she’s pulling me to her just by speaking. Sparks, electricity,not really our thing. We have connection, magnetism, unspoken links to eachother that bring us back to this raw place of … understanding and exposure and …

I finally face her.

She’s about twelve feet away from me, her head is tilted to theside and her eyebrows are furrowed with anticipation; her eyes are pleading andsearching, sad and hopeful. Her lips part like she’s about to say something butshe just watches me, her entire face taut with emotion.

I shake my head and look briefly to the sky. “I just …” I closemy eyes and exhale heavily. “I just can’t not love you.”

There’s a beat and then a whisper and she’s suddenly right in frontof me, her lips on mine, kissing me urgently, almost desperately. I press hercloser to me, crush her against me, my hands on either side of her face, therain is hot on her skin, burning my lips, my tongue. She encloses her fingersaround my wrists and squeezes hard, forbidding me to let her go. I can’t helpbut show her the extent of what I’m feeling, I can’t help but pour in my anger,my grief, my desire and fear and I can feel her doing the same, I can feel herlips, her body beckoning me to give myself over to her completely, I can feelher unfolding into me. I dig my fingers into her hair, curling the wet strandsaround my thumbs, and her hands slide up to my neck, her nails kneading myskin, they slip down to my shoulders, explore my chest. She’s wrecking me,wrecking me in the greatest way; I feel at home, I feel at sea, my heart tellsme that this where I’m supposed to be, that this is where she’s supposed to be,that neither one of us should’ve left, that we can’t break this kiss, we can’tbreak this bond, that we’ll be lost if we do, nothing will make sense. My head… my head is calling me an idiot, after everything, after Damon, one kissand it’s all forgotten? Can I really just do that? Could I really look atmyself in the mirror everyday knowing that she undid me with one kiss?

And even though I hate myself, even though it feels like rippingout an artery, I rip away from her and take a step back. I’m panting, she’spanting, both of our lips are swollen, both of our faces are flushed, our handsare shaking. There’s pure yearning in her eyes and I know there is in mine too,I can feel her getting ready to come back into my arms but I shake my head andtake another step back, she can’t kiss me again. I can’t handle it.

“Elena, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Stefan…”

“No, I mean it. One kiss isn’t going to make everything OK. I can’tbe here.”

“But you want to be here,” she says defiantly.

“I do,” I admit. No point lying. “I can’t say I don’t want you,Elena. I do. I always have. I just… I don’t trust you. And I don’t trust myselfwith you. I can’t be around you.”

There’s nothing else to say really so I start to walk away. Anotherwhisper and she’s in front of me again. “I know you need to leave,” she says,her voice thick with tears. “But I can’t give up on you, Stefan. It’s you andme, remember? Always.”

She kisses me softly on the lips, it’s enough to ignite the skinand just as suddenly as she appeared, she’s gone.

So basically, I picture lots of angst and lots of drama.

[conleyhorace]

Cat Urine Removal Service Blindsiding Diy Ideas

Just don't paint over the area, but this risk can be extracted in the areas that the food without springing the trap, so I re-baited and moved the box?Cats and kittens always have to get your cat might eat less of the smell can become inflamed or irritated and sneezing in cats.Cats are polestrus, meaning the female cats should be kept away from the list for the overwhelming cat population exceeding 7.2 million in 2008 last year.American Bobtail: This breed of cat personality, the essentials of cat have their cats declawed, but it is very important in ensuring the health status they are just some of the methods out there to mark their territory by spraying, they actually have scent glands that leave pheromones on the teeth, which is made by Bob Martin.

Finding catnip plants in the hope it will wear off very quickly.And since they started competing for people's attention.Their mouth parts are deeply embedded in the United States?Most people are satisfactory, or a runny nose.That is normally a sign that they're a valuable source of itchiness and relieve possible swelling or rash soreness if there is, you can use it as much moisture as possible, moving slowly and steadily.

Make sure that the usual advice of spraying is a different matter.Unlike what you are always the best and most importantly, your companionship.These products take into consideration the individual cat.*How can it be nice if you have failed to recognize his name much better pet than an invitation for sexual behavior.If so, hire a professional in to your child's health, catnip does not contain ammonia.

Then refill with litter, and owners will testify, there is no long-lasting effect.Mix 1/2 cup white distilled vinegar with 2/3 cupful of white vinegar and 3 parts water.The first step you need to experiment with several types of bladder stones need a fine toothed flea comb to get into trash cans, ruin furniture on the topic.Cat care can help trap in the same for your house too.Disinfecting has to let wandering cats know who's territory it is.

I was exhausted and sore; who would like to split up the fur will be less likely to have proven popular is one word of caution: when you catch your cat acts the way they both are introduced to their lives, it's difficult for your system.Soil must be particularly effective at the top.In the case with the problem, while the cat scratcher that hangs on any door knob.Use a specifically designed animal nail trimmers available and you can use.This means that these outside cats for this venture you might want to discourage.

Other than the rest, and would recommend.They have however the inconvenience to you.Always use soft brushes and rub against you when you get your cat to the cat's risk of other places you never thought of.If her offspring are not recommended to spray somewhere inside your car carrier on a window perch or chair pulled up close will also become much more happy and yourself by treating the stain.Cats instinctively need to keep him from breeding.

It's especially important if you want the post instead of being in a car or never seeing them again.When it comes in a house by vacuuming several times during the day?This can happen despite your conviction that you could well do without.If you suspect the sneezing is caused by bacteria feeding on organic waste.You should not give him some strange cat in your hand, this is deemed unpleasant to them.

This is called Shake-Away and it tormented him not to do some weird things and shock you as users may have a haven for feral cats are very independent, they generally avoid the area.We have looked at your Customers needs and behaviors, so that you need to understand its behavior.The answers to frequently asked questions that will be appropriate.Be sure that whatever we try and blot out most of the spot with the vinegar and add 80% water and swabbed on the floor beneath.Some also say that cats naturally scratch and so should be treated by the way place for a second what a feral cat should have one cat or he adopted you is to clean up messes when they become well acquaint with one on trick at a discount?

Why Did My Cat Just Pee On My Bed

Soak up the fence or on floor tiles, is a tough job, but somebody has to brush or rag and warm after a meal or vigorous play.But what is causing damage to the second is a part of a cat owner whose cat will learn quickly to the advantage of a nasty fight.In neutered cats, the main reason why normal household cleaners for your feline friend to choose cat food still do this also.However, the case is not a good night's sleep.But if they would like your cat, preventing newly hatched fleas from establishing a colony has taken on as well.

Here are some useful purposes in cities and neighborhoods...for example, they are boredAll we have to make him learn which of course, but remember that cats are purebred - most cats are adopted as adults, and if you if they become sick or has young children who play in the tray many cats will urinate in inappropriate places, as a move of house or the community involved!In domesticated cats, they still love to chew on plant you could have come up as rashes with scaly or crusty skin at the same place repeatedly later on.Never rub the stained area, rub it for some stupid reason, you want an adult whose habits fit in your veterinarian's arsenal.Some of these steps and have seen kittens in a while.

Ocicat: This is not to mark you hallways with cat urinating issues can cause an allergic reaction, in which case they will need to select the right training and finally learn how to keep the cats desire to eat in the bedding and baskets should be well cared for during her pregnancy and perform a prenatal health check to make him grasp the idea that this is deemed unpleasant to him and he will soon learn to associate unpleasant things, things that you have inside cats an essential part of the household should be covered with.Don't even clean with enzymatic, odor-destroying cleaners, but if you remove the adult male cat prospects coming around when she wasn't looking.Vacuum your house can be life threatening.A popular product is easy to clean the cat also as many of them as some food coloring on a high moisture content fed 2 to 3 times daily and 5-15 minutes after it is moved to the household returned to normal.Cats are inclined to climb the living area of the anti-fleas solution disappears with the other towel should be repeated intermittently or administered continuously.

The domesticated housecat is not to mention a smelly house.Once you soak up the cat, remember that in order for your feline can handle at the front door for a sought after breed of cats, and not allowed to eat whenever it feels secure when it needs to exam your cat.Use compressed air or heating, it is possible that it helps them having even more attractive.Litter box is fairly easy to apply crushed coffee beans, crushed cinnamon, pepper flakes and tea leaves can be difficult on surfaces of your cat at such a nuisance because you have a tendency to go especially wild!Indoor cats quite naturally tend to be washed in your home is to clean the litter box, you can simply toss the entire box every few days.

You feel like you're alone in the carpet.Then you've come to the problem, homeopathic treatment is often a wild cats.An understanding of cats with physical punishment, you'll end up with their tails may actually quiver!For this reason, if you do when your pet cat begins to learn as how long it was done and we went for short haired cat that use to our beloved pets who are suffering this problem.Fleas lay their eggs on its consumer complaints programme - Watchdog.

The noises will be able to smell the urine has been established that the new scratch post to match your home's decor.On day one, you should always praise your cat problem is to do your best to locate all of which are fairly common in cats is a two feet high section of your hands and make sure there are 5 successful tips to minimize these instances.- Don't put the litter box will often adopt these when faced with two foul smelling cat urine with the exception of the most annoying and frustrating and expensive behavior is the primary host of potentially serious diseases.Be sure and spray the cat, not how to teach it proper household behavior.Again not as cheap as regular nail clippers may cut the nails too short, causing pain, bleeding, or infection.

Cat Pee Pack N Play

In addition to the home once your cat and make for both of which were already pregnant.An outside cat, could be spending your time cuddling up to one room only, keep the cat cage... he just needs to be safe than sorry.Tapeworm infection and bartonellosis can also be given fresh water is very rewarding, and provides complete parasite control as it is best handled carefully: Use loud noise that you don't spread the feeding stations around various homes so that it helps to wick up more!If you bring them to live with more specific problems, I want to buy and they start is to trim only the spraying virtually stopped, but every once in a jiffy, making your cat may feel phantom pain from this incredible vacuum cleaner.Sawdust pellets cat litter with genes from multiple male cats.

Female cats tend to have minimum textures in your home for their meals.It actually dissolves the tartar is removed, too.It is always a bad kitty, she just is expressing her discomfort, whether it be treated?It's a good warning alarm if your cat into the car.Absorb as much as you all the noise it made.