#weightlifters use them to help with blood rush to their heads or something like that

[nururu]

also I made these

[starryknight09]

Forests and piggyback rides

Febuwhump Day 5: “don’t try to pin this on me”

Read on AO3.

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“Which way Pete?” Tony asked.

Peter chewed his bottom lip as he looked left and then right.  He honestly had no idea.  All the trees and shrubs in the lush rainforest looked the same.

“Um…” That tree to left seemed kind of familiar.  Didn’t it?

“Maybe…I think we should go…that way.”  He pointed in the direction of the sort of familiar tree.

“You have no idea.” Tony deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Uh…no.” He admitted.

“Kid you were supposed to be in charge of directions.”

“And then I told you I’m terrible with directions, so you said we’d figure it out together.” Peter threw his hands up in the air.  “Don’t try to pin this on me!”

Tony took a deep breath and looked up at the sky as if to ask for help from above.  When he looked back at Peter, he gave a quick nod and said, “Right.  So we’re lost.”

“I guess that depends on your definition of lost.  We know we’re in a rainforest somewhere in Brazil, so I mean we’re not completely lost.”

“We’re lost.” Tony repeated.

“So…we should stay put?” Peter asked hesitantly.  “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you’re lost?”

“Yeah if you’re in kindergarten and baddies with guns aren’t chasing you.” Mr. Stark said, glancing back the way they’d came, as if mentioning them might make them appear.

“Ok so what do we do?” Peter asked, and he hated that he had to ask, because going on these missions with Mr. Stark always felt like a test for the big leagues, and when he didn’t know what to do, he felt like he was failing.

“We keep going and hope Rhodey finds us or we somehow stumble across the Quinjet.”

“Too bad we can’t use the suits.” Peter mumbled and they started walking again.

“Yep.  It’s just not our day.”

The mission had been a success at least.  They’d gotten into the remote Hydra hold out and planted incendiaries to blow the place, but someone had spotted them on the way out, and in their desperation to catch them, they’d fired an EMP which had fried both their suits, so Peter and Tony had ended up fleeing into the forest.  At least the bombs had still detonated.  And they’d gotten away.  Although it was crazy hot here.  And the dense foliage and bugs were starting to get on his nerves.  

Peter pushed more hanging vines to the side while batting another huge fly-like beetle thing away from his face.  The stupid insect distracted him just long enough that he missed the ground under his feet suddenly disappearing.  His spidey sense flared, but the warning didn’t come soon enough.

The forest floor dropped out under his feet and he fell with a yelp.  

“Kid!” Tony yelled from behind him.

His back slammed against the steep muddy incline and he slid down the hill, arms flailing, trying to grab onto something to slow his progression, but all the shrubbery broke away in his hands and his sticky powers wouldn’t work on the muddy ground.

He must’ve stumbled on some kind of steep river embankment because that was the sight that greeted him below his feet.  If he didn’t stop soon he was going to end up taking a swim.  And he wasn’t the best swimmer.  And the river didn’t look particularly inviting with the turbulent white froth rising from its churning waters.

In desperation he threw his leg to the side, trying to wedge his foot between two small tree trunks that met near the ground.  And it worked.  A second later he jerked to a stop.  And felt something snap in his ankle.  He let out a pained cry.  But at least he’d stopped.  He wasn’t going to drown.  Except now he was stuck.  He hung upside down, foot caught between the tree trunks, and he was afraid to try to free himself because he didn’t want to end up tumbling back down into the river.  Well, this was less than ideal.  And his ankle hurt.  Even breathing sent sparks of pain up his leg, so he tried his best not to move.

“Hold on kid!” Mr. Stark called from the top of the embankment and Peter craned his head to see the man starting to make his way tentatively down the hill toward him.

“Be careful!” He warned before letting his head flop back down into the mud.  The blood had started rushing to his face, but he didn’t mind the sensation.  He was used to it from being Spiderman.

It took Mr. Stark awhile to reach him, but eventually the man saddled up beside him, sweaty and red faced.  “All right Pete.  I’m here.”

Peter could see the tension pinching around his eyes, proof he was worried.

“You were right Mr. Stark.” He groaned.

“I always am.” The man answered distractedly, eyeing his leg and how it was jammed into the branching tree trunks.  “What was I right about this time?”

“This is not our day.”

Mr. Stark huffed out a laugh and crawled up to examine his foot closer.

“Ok, I know how to get you out.” Mr. Stark said decisively.  “First, we need to sit you up.” Mr. Stark snaked an arm under his shoulders and pulled him up to an awkward seated position.  “And now I just need to…” Mr. Stark leaned toward his foot while still supporting him behind his back, and he grabbed the heel of his foot and yanked.  His foot came free with a spike of agony.

“Sorry buddy.” Mr. Stark apologized.

“That’s ok.” He kept his eyes scrunched closed, trying to ride out the pain.  “Had to be done.”

Peter took a few more slow breaths and opened his eyes, meeting Mr. Stark’s concerned gaze.

“You ok?” His mentor asked.

Peter nodded.

“Ok, then let’s try to get you in a better position.  This might hurt a little.” Mr. Stark said apologetically.

“I’ll be ok.”

Mr. Stark held under his knee to keep his foot off the ground, and with a little help from Peter, twisted him around so his legs faced down the hill instead of up.  He let out a relieved sigh when he’d settled into the new position.  It was a lot more comfortable.  “Thanks Mr. Stark.”

The man sat down hip to hip with him, resting backwards on his hands, mirroring Peter’s position.  They rested like that in silence for a couple minutes before Mr. Stark asked, “Do you think you can walk?”

Peter tried wiggling his ankle and sucked in a sharp breath at the pain.  Yeah that was going to be a no go.

“I don’t think so.” He said, wincing.  “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.  We’ll…figure it out.” Mr. Stark looked around as if the answer might be found in the trees.

“Maybe we should just stay here.” He suggested, not seeing any other option.

“Rhodey will never find us here.” Mr. Stark shook his head.

“Neither will the bad guys.”

Mr. Stark let out a quiet snort and kept searching their environment for some sort of solution.

Peter knew he wasn’t going to find one.  “You should go Mr. Stark.”

“What?” Mr. Stark asked sharply.

“You should get out of here, and when you find Colonel Rhodes you can come back for me.” Peter explained.

“No.  I’m not leaving you here by yourself.  Hurt and undefended.”

“I’m Spiderman.  I’m never undefended.” He argued.

“I don’t care.  I’m not leaving you.” And the steel in his voice was enough to convince Peter there was no way he’d be able to change the man’s mind.

“Then what are we going to do?” He asked.

Mr. Stark looked up toward the top of the embankment and then back down at Peter before he nodded decisively and said, “I’m going to carry you.”

Peter eyed the man dubiously.  “Mr. Stark you could barely make it down by yourself.  There’s no way you can make it back up there carrying me.”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do.  Besides, going up is easier than going down.”

Peter supposed that was true, but he wasn’t in any hurry for Mr. Stark to drop him or for both of them to go plummeting back down the sharp incline into the river.

He didn’t get any more time to protest.  Mr. Stark was already crouching down next to him, but with his back to him.  Peter frowned.

“Come on kid.  Giddy up.” Mr. Stark flapped his hands toward his back and Peter finally got it.  Mr. Stark wanted to give him a piggyback ride.

“This is humiliating.” He mumbled, but after a few false starts, he managed to get on Mr. Stark’s back with his arms clasped together over the man’s chest as his mentor held his legs at his knees.

“Ready?” Mr. Stark asked once he was in a good position.

“Yeah.”

“Here we go.” Mr. Stark said as if to bolster himself, and then shakily stood, blowing out a long breath of air like Peter had seen people do when they were weightlifting.

“Are you ok Mr. Stark?”

“Oh yeah just great.” The man grunted as he took a step up the hill.  So far so good.  “You’re light as a feather.”

Peter knew he wasn’t.  Mr. Stark made it about ten feet before he started puffing and Peter could see the beads of sweat starting to pop out on his neck.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” He asked again.

“Just peachy.” He grit out.  “But no more talking.  I have to concentrate.”

Peter had to admit that Mr. Stark impressed him.  He didn’t think there was any way the man could carry him all the way back up.  But it looked like he was going to make it.  Fifteen minutes after he’d picked him up, Mr. Stark crested the hill.  The man was audibly out of breath and drenched with sweat, but he’d made it.  As soon as his feet hit flat ground, Mr. Stark abruptly fell to his knees, and Peter let an involuntary grunt as his leg bumped against the ground.

“Sorry kid.” Mr. Stark apologized between gasps.  “But time to get off.”

Peter slid the rest of the way down to sit on the ground.  The second he was free, Mr. Stark collapsed to the ground with a groan.  Peter watched as the man flopped over onto his back and closed his eyes, chest still heaving.

He thought about asking Mr. Stark if he was ok again but he didn’t think the man would appreciate it.

“Let’s never do that again.” His mentor said after he’d had a couple minutes to rest and catch his breath.

“Agreed.” Peter said, leaning against the tree trunk behind him.

Mr. Stark turned his head and squinted at him.  “How’s the leg?”

He shrugged.  Terrible, but he wasn’t about to tell the other man that.

“Great.” Mr. Stark closed his eyes.  “Just give me a minute and we can—”

The snap of branches interrupted whatever his mentor had been about to say.  Mr. Stark shot to his feet, something Peter didn’t think he would’ve been capable of a second earlier.  Peter hurried to stand on his good leg, using the tree behind him to push up.  Mr. Stark moved to stand protectively in front of him, and Peter was about to protest the obvious babying when the person making all the noise burst through the forest into sight.

“Rhodey.” Mr. Stark greeted his friend with relief.  “What took so long?”

“You never make it easy Tones.” Rhodey complained with a shake of his head and a smile.

Mr. Stark let out short laugh.  “I don’t make it easy?  You couldn’t have gotten here fifteen minutes earlier?”

Peter grinned.

“Why?”

“Never mind.” Mr. Stark waved a hand dismissively.  “Just get over here and help me with the kid.  He’s hurt.”

“What happened?” Rhodey asked and hurried over, no longer smiling.

“He had a little disagreement with gravity.”

Peter rolled his eyes.  “I sprained my ankle.  Mr. Stark’s overacting.  As usual.”

Rhodey knelt down and examined his ankle, pressing in a few different areas.  He sucked in a breath when the man’s fingers ghosted over a particularly tender spot.

“Yeah I don’t think that’s just sprained.” Rhodey decided and stood back up.  “Let’s get you back to the Quinjet.”

“The EMP didn’t reach it?” Mr. Stark asked.

“No we must’ve been far enough away.  Is that what happened to your suits?”

They both nodded.

“Bad luck.” Rhodey said.

“Parker luck.” Mr. Stark muttered with a grin.

Peter shot him a fake glare.

“Ready to go?” Rhodey asked.

Peter nodded.

Rhodey turned so his armored back faced him.  “Hop on.”

“Again?” Peter asked in disbelief.  Two piggyback rides in one day.  He was never going to live this down.

“What do you mean again?” Rhodey asked.  Right, he didn’t know about that.

“Nothing.” Mr. Stark said quickly and gave him a look that meant they weren’t going to speak of it.

“Right.  Nothing.” Peter climbed onto Rhodey’s back.

“I’ll be right back.” Rhodey told Mr. Stark as soon as he was situated.

“I”ll be right here.” His mentor gestured to area around him with a smirk.

They took off into the air.

“So, Tony gave you a piggyback ride, huh?” Rhodey said, clearly amused.

“How did you—”

Rhodey burst out laughing.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 11

Warnings: None

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​

Kyle is just getting ready to climb behind the wheel of his rental when he sees her approaching; a tall, curvy blond with vibrant colored highlights in her hair, holding onto Declan’s hand as he toddles along beside her, and he shuts the driver’s side door and journeys to the end of the driveway, crouching down with his arms outstretched.

“Hey buddy!” he calls. “Come see me!”

Declan hesitates, head cocked the side, a frown on his face. As if he remembers the voice yet the face isn’t quite so familiar. It’s been six months after all, and he’s too young to sit still during a webcam chat; hyper and energetic and too busy exploring the world around him.  But then he gives a smile that spreads from ear to ear and crinkles the corners of his eyes. And he manages to wriggle out of the woman’s grasp and rushes towards his uncle, who effortlessly scoops him up off the ground; repeatedly throwing him in the air and catching him, until the toddler is giggling hysterically.

“I missed you, bud,” Kyle presses a kiss to the side of Declan’s head, who responds by throwing his arm around his uncle’s neck and snuggling his face into his shoulder.  “I almost didn’t recognize you,” he teases. “Practically old enough now to have a girlfriend and start shaving.”

“It was time to bring back the kid. I wanted to keep him, not going to lie,” the neighbor says, as she hands over a small backpack and a pair of sandals. “You must be Esme’s husband. It’s about time we met. You’re definitely not what I was expecting.”

“What?” he chuckles. “No. God no. I couldn’t stand being married to her. I had enough years of her driving me crazy. I’m her brother. Kyle,” he holds Declan under the bum with his forearm and offers his hand.  

“The firefighter.”

“I see she’s been picking about me. Not sure how I feel about that.”

“All good stuff, I promise. I’m Salena,” she warmly shakes the hand being held out to her.  

“New neighbor, right?”

She grins. “So she’s been talking about me too.”

“Just a little. It was nice of you.  Taking Declan for a bit. She needed some downtime. Trying to handle a new baby and this little man...” he tickles Declan’s stomach. “...can be a lot to deal with. I’m glad that she has someone to help her out. That actually gives a crap about her. Tyler can only do so much, you know?”

“Tyler’s the husband.”

“You’re neighbors yet you don’t know his name?”

“I’ve never even seen him. Which is why I thought that’s who you were. Although you don’t exactly give off the ‘retired guy’ vibe.  You’re probably at least thirty years away from that.”

“I wish,” he laughs. “But thanks. That’s my ego boost for today. You’re going to be in for a surprise, I think. When you do see him. He doesn’t give up the ‘retired guy’ vibe either. Daddy was lucky wasn’t he, Decks?” He holds his nephew over his head and blow raspberries on his tummy until he’s giggling once more. “He was lucky in more ways than one.”

“Lucky to even be here by the sounds of it,” Salena comments.

“You have no idea. It was a scary time. For him. And for my sister. You just live up the road or...?”

“Right next door. Well not right next door because there’s the equivalent of two football fields between us. But next door.”

“I would have scooped that place up in a heartbeat when my sister told me it was for sale. I’d love to be closer to the munchkins. Especially this guy,” he gives Declan a noisy kiss on the cheek. “He’s kind of my favorite. But don’t tell the other ones. Uncle Kyle is kind of a big deal around here and I want it to stay that way.”

Salena laughs. “Your secret is safe with me. But I kind of see why this little guy is your fave. He's quite the character!”

“Always has been. Since the day he was born. Huge personality, this kid.  Always charming someone. Especially the ladies. Must take after your Uncle Kyle, huh?” he bounces Declan on his hip. “All you have to do is give them a certain look and they’re eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“I think that hair and those huge blue eyes don’t hurt either.”

“They all have them. Those eyes. Trust me when I say they are all dad. Except for the littlest. She is all mom.”

“Do you still live in Colorado or...”

Kyle nods. “Telluride. At my sister’s old place. Just until I decide if I want to stick around or not. Then they’ll just up for sale if I leave. It’s a shame if they do. It’s a hell of a place. Not as nice as this, but it’s got tons of property and amazing view of the mountains. It was a great place to raise kids. Until it wasn’t.”

“Things went bad?”

“You could say that. Changes needed to be made. They’re happier now. Much happier. Sucks that they’re so far away; kills me not being able to see the kidlets. But it was what was best for them. For all of them. Sometimes you just have to cut your losses and walk away, know what I mean?”

Salena nods.

“I should get this guy into his mom. I have some things I have to take care of before we all meet back up tonight for dinner. It’ll be fun surprising the other kids. It’s only been six months, but it’s felt like six years.”

“I won’t keep you any longer. It was nice meeting you, Kyle. Maybe we’ll see each other again. You sticking around for long?”

“Week or two. Who knows, maybe I’ll fall in love with the place and never leave. Anything could happen, right?”

“Absolutely it could,” she agrees, and others her hand this time. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Pleasure was all mine. Maybe we’ll get to chat again. I’m sure I’ll be around a lot. And any friend of my sister’s is a friend of mine. You ready to go, buddy?”  He pushes his fingers through Declan’s hair, clearing long, thick tresses off his forehead.  “Want to go see mommy?”

“See mommy,” Declan chirps, and then blows Salena a kiss, giving her one of his charming little grins as his uncle carries him up the driveway.

****

The music is deafening; bass intense and pounding, windows shaking. The detached garage had originally been built by the previous owners and used as a place to store a boat and jet skis; the door at the back leading out onto a cement launch that descended into the ocean. It was a luxury they didn’t need, and Tyler had turned the garage into a fully functional gym, stocked with every possibly piece of cardio and weightlifting equipment that could possibly fit within the four walls. It’s his refuge; the one place he can go to when anxious or agitated, where he can safely –and productively- get out all his frustrations and aggression. There were days he’d only been in there for thirty minutes, other where he’d disappear for hours at a time. She never questioned it or denied him that time alone. He was still safe at home, working through things at his own pace and intensity. Far better than the alternative: having him thousands of miles away, putting himself in danger, using his hands to inflict pain on people. Even killing them.

The end results are better as well. Something that she can selfishly enjoy. The pure aesthetics of him; the broad shoulders and back, muscle seemingly packed open muscle, every inch, every ripple, every sinewy tendon and every bulging vein.  Not one inch that isn’t pure and utter perfection. That her fingers and hands haven’t spent countless hours exploring and enjoying. No man has ever had that powerful of an effect on her, especially that long into a relationship.  Where her insides burn and ache just from the simple act of watching him. Not just his body in motion, but the intensity and focus that he puts into it.  

She stands in the doorway and watches him now; the power and the rage behind every kick and punch that he unleashes on the heavy bag. Shirtless and clad in only a pair of athletic shorts, a sheen of sweat covering every inch of his upper body and soaking his hair.  Those blue eyes dark and troubled. Angry.

When the music becomes too much for her ears to bear, she moves to the Bluetooth speaker in the corner and turns down the volume. He’s stopped for a breather; skin flushed, chest heaving, bent over at the waist with his hands resting on his thighs.  The sunlight streaming through the skylight causing the sweat to glisten, highlighting every scar and tattoos that mars his flesh.

“Do I know the person you were fantasizing about beating the shit off?” Esme asks, as she takes a seat on one of the nearby weight benches, holding out one of the two bottles of water she’s brought along with her.

“You know a couple of them,” Tyler admits, using his forearm to clear sweat from his forehead as he approaches, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips; droplets of sweat falling from his hair and down onto her chest and thighs.  “You were sleeping when I got hope. I didn’t want to wake you up. Come out here instead.”

“Well judging by how hard core you were going and all that rage coming out of out, I’d say that was a very good call on your part.”

“Declan and the baby still sleeping?”

She nods. “How long have you been out here kicking the hell of out things?”

“I dunno,” he twists off the cap on the water and downs nearly half the bottle. “Hour maybe. What time is it?”

“Just a little after two.”

“Hour and a bit, then. Times flies when you’re pretending to kill someone, I suppose.”

“Pretending is better than actually doing it,” she reasons, and he nods, then uses his teeth to create a tear in the tape that’s wrapped around both hands. It’s frayed and stained by both grim and blood; the thin layer of protection not enough to keep the already swollen and misshapen knuckles from being torn up.

“Lunch with Ovi went that bad?” she inquires, and motions for him to give her one of his hands; taking one in both of hers, nails gently picking at the tape to begin the task of peeling it off. It’s a simple gesture; that little bit of help. But it’s filled with love.

“It went so bad that lunch never even happened.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. You were pretty agitated before you even left the house. What happened? Did you just completely snap or...?”

“He started in on his bullshit. About the job. It didn’t matter what I said. How bad I made it sound. He doesn’t give a fuck about the reality of it. I don’t what’s happened to him. You’d think about everything he went through in Dhaka...killing Gaspar...seeing what went down on the bridge...that’d be enough to convince him not to do it.”

“Something has warped his mind. Or someone.”  She finishes with the first hand; balling up the soiled and tattered tape and setting it beside her on the bench. Then turns her attention to the other.

“I know I promised I’d do whatever I had to to stop him, but nothing I say or do is going to change his mind. He doesn’t give a shit what I have to say. So short of chaining him up in the basement and keeping him prisoner, I think we’re looking at option B.”

Esme sighs. “I was hoping to avoid option B.”

“We were BOTH hoping to avoid option B. But if we try and look at it optimistically...”

“Isn’t that my thing?” she grins.  “Aren’t I usually the optimistic one while you border on the worst-case scenario side of things?”

“What did you say the other night? About teaching an old dog new tricks? Guess you’re starting to rub off on me after six years.”

“So what is the optimistic way of looking at it? Is there even such a thing when it comes to the job?”

“Maybe he won’t get himself into trouble,” Tyler says. “Maybe he’ll be smart enough to just take easy shit. Simple in and out extractions.”

“We both know there’s nothing simple about any extraction. Whether it��s supposed to be in and out or not. Can you honestly think of one extraction that went down without a hitch? You’d done how many by the time you quit? At least a hundred. Probably more. When was the last one that you remember things didn't go south?”

Tyler frowns. “You’re killing my optimistic vibe here.”

She gives an apologetic smile.

“There’s a chance that whatever he decides to take will be nice and easy. At least until he gets his feet under him. I figure it can go one of two ways. He’ll either hate it, or he’ll push himself until he can handle more intense jobs.”

“Okay, honey, I don’t think you quite grasp looking at the brighter side of things. Because you started out really well, but you sort of shit the bed at the end there. How is that last part in any way optimistic? We want him stopping, not continuing.”

“So maybe I don’t have the optimism thing perfected just yet. But if the worst-case scenario is that he likes doing it and busts his ass to get better at it, that’s not so bad, yeah?”

“Would that not be the somewhat okay scenario? Seeing as the worst-case scenario would be something like...I don’t know.... death?”

“Not every mercenary dies,” Tyler informs her.

“But the percentage is higher of those that do and those who live long, happy lives. You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Kind of bold of you to assume that I’m both happy and I’m going to live a long life,” he teases.

“You won’t live long making smart ass comment like that,” she retorts.

Grinning, he leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, then to the sensitive spot below her ear. “Thank you,” he says, when she finishes unwrapping his hand and adds the tape to the original ball.  

“So...” her hands fall on his shoulders as he sits on the ground in front of her, leaning back against her legs. “....is that as bad as things got today, or...”

“No. It got worse,” he grimaces as he stretches his legs out in front of him; knee cracking and popping with even that simple of a movement. “It got a lot worse.”

“I have a feeling I know why. But I’m going to let you tell me.” Her fingers dig into his shoulders, feeling the tension that has settled deep into the muscles. “Because I think I know what you’re going to say.”

“I’ll give you three guesses what happened.”

“Nope. We are not playing that game. You’re just going to spit it out. Because once it’s out in the open, we can deal with it. Together. Rationally.”

“Any form of the word rational and you don’t exactly go hand in hand. Fuck...” he growls, when she clamps down on the right trap. “...okay...okay...I’ll tell you. I’ll talk. Are you sure it wasn’t torture you specialized in instead of intel?”

“I have ways of making you suffer, Tyler. That aren’t physical. You think almost four months is bad? Try six. Or eight. Or twelve.”

He scowls. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. So, talk. Or you’ll spent the next six months to a year doing a lot a jerking off or taking cold showers.”

“You have to promise me that you won’t completely lose your shit on me. Because I’m actually the innocent one in all of this fucked up mess.”

“Okay,” Esme agrees. “I promise.”

“Nik showed up. Just out of the blue. Ovi set me up. He knew I wouldn’t totally snap in public. He’s the one who told her to meet us there. That sneaky little fuck. I don’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed.”

“Well I know which one I am, and it’s not impressed.”

“You don’t seem that surprised,” he remarks.  “That she did show up.”

“Nik is like herpes,” Esme muses. “Can’t get rid of her no matter how hard you try.”

Tyler laughs. “That’s one way of putting it, I guess.”

“And I already knew she was in town. Because I had my own surprise visitor today. My brother showed up. Completely unannounced. Just wandered in like it was no big deal that he just didn’t come all the way from Colorado. It was too much wishful thinking on my part to hope he’d come alone, apparently.”

Tyler sips his water. “What did he want?

“Just a social visit. Nothing majorly important was brought up. What did Nik want?”

“I didn’t agree to tell you THAT part.”

“Tyler, don’t press your luck. I love you, but just don’t.”

“She’s been recruiting him. Ovi. Apparently when he started thinking about all this job shit, he contacted her. Which makes sense in a way, because she’d have all the answers to his questions.  She’s a fountain of information. I only know the hands-on stuff. She knows that and what goes on behind the scenes. So he reached out to her and I guess she made it sound even more appealing instead of discouraging.”

“Color me surprised,” Esme scoffs. “That she’d suck him right in. Fuck that bitch.”

“You told me you’d stay calm,” he reminds her.

“I am calm. Have I strangled you yet? No. So I’m calm.”

“Just a reminder that I’m innocent in all of this. In case you needed to hear that again.”

“I’m not mad at you,” she assures him. “Not in the slightest. So,” she runs her hands along his shoulders and presses a kiss to his ear. “.... go on.”

“She’s offered him a position,” Tyler continues, as he picks at the label on the now empty water bottle. “With her team. But there’s a catch.”

Esme smirks. “There always is with Nik. Nothing is ever cut and dry with her. What’s the catch?”

“She wants him trained. Extensively. Weapons, hand to hand combat, that sort of shit. And she won’t give him a job unless he can prove to her that he can handle things.”

“That actually seems fairly reasonable for Nik. What does it have to do with you?”

“Before I tell you that part, I just want to say that I love you and I wasn’t going to make any decision without you. If you don’t want me doing it, I don’t do it. Simple as that. Okay?”

“Fair enough.”

“Nik wants me to be the one that trains him.”

She issues a heavy sigh.  

“But...” Tyler turns around to face her, forearms resting on her thighs. “...I don’t have to go anywhere to do it. It’s not like I have to actually go on a job and have him shadow me or some shit like that. Nik is a lot of things, but she’s not THAT reckless. Everything can be done here. All hands on. We’ve got a gym, a beach we can use to practice some shit on, there’s gun ranges in the town over, we have the woods out back.”

“You have a hunting rifle and a handgun,” she reminds him. “That’s hardly enough to train him with.”

“It would only take one phone call and I’d have everything I need. I’m not worried about that.”

“Do you want to do it? Train him?”

“Do you want me to do it?” he counters. “Because if we don’t agree on this, I don’t do it. That’s it. If you think it’s a bad idea and you’d rather I not do it, then just say it. I won’t argue. So...” he runs his palms along her thighs. “...what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking this is fucked up,” Esme admits. “Because I thought this was all behind us. That every part of the job was in the past. That we finally got away from it. Like...fuck, Tyler. When is this going to end? Will it ever end? Will it ever leave you alone? I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you. I do not want you getting dragged back into this. Into the actual job. Because she's going to try. She's going to try and manipulate you all over again.”

“It won’t work. I’m done. I’m not going back. Unless there’s no other choice.  We agreed on that. That I’d only go if Ovi got himself into trouble. That is the one and only time I’d go back. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“What’s the alternative? If you don’t train him?”

“He gets someone that does a half assed job and Nik thinks it’s acceptable and sends him off somewhere. To die.”

“Well you can’t let that happened. That’s the last thing we want. And if he’s so hell bent on doing this and there’s no way you change his mind...”

“He’s not going to listen to me, babe. He’s going to do this whether I agree with it or not.”

“So then logically it should be you. That trains him,” she concludes. “He trusts you. I trust you. I know that you’d do it right. You were the best, Tyler. Everyone knew it. You weren’t just water cooler gossip. Or some urban legend. You were exactly who everyone said you were.  Which means you’re Ovi’s only hope.”

“I don’t know about his only hope, but I’m his best hope. Tell me what you want,” he takes her hands in his, kissing the tops of both before tightly squeezing. His eyes never leaving hers. “If you want me to do it, I need to hear you say it. It’s important to me that you say it.”

“And it’s a sure thing that you won’t have to go anywhere? That you can do all of this right here?”

“There’s no reason for me to go anywhere. Not unless I have to. Not unless he completely fucks up and I have to rescue his sorry ass. If you don’t want me involved at all...”

“It’s not that. I want you to help him. I just worry about what else Nik will try to get you into.”

“Fuck Nik. This is about Ovi. And us. She has nothing to do with this. If you say yes, I commit. If you say no, we just go on with our lives like we never had this conversation. There’s no in between. Just yes or no.”

She sighs, then leans forward and rests her forehead against his. Her eyes closed, her voice barely above a whisper. “You need to do this,” she admits, even though it hurts like hell to do so.  “I want you to do it.”

“It’s going to be okay,” he places a kiss to her brow, lips lingering there for several seconds. “It goes no further than this. I do what I have to do to get him ready. Then just hope he doesn’t need anything else.”

“I swear to God, I will kill him with my bare fucking hands if this gets any worse. If he totally fucks up and you have to go in and get him, I will slaughter him the second he gets back.”

“That kind of defeats the purpose of getting him out of there alive if he’s just going to end up dead in the first place.”

“It’s you I worry about,” she stresses. “It’s you that I don’t want ending up dead. Because we’re supposed to grow old and grey and miserable together.”

“Baby, there is no one else I want to grow old and grey and miserable with. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. Trust me. I’m asking you to trust me. Can you do that?”

She nods, then releases his hands and wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. The smell of sweat and the slick dampness of his body oddly comforting.  

“I love you,” he says, as his hands softly rub up and down her back. “I love you and everything is going to be okay.”

“I love you too,” her voice is muffled against him. “Just do whatever it takes to help him survive. To keep him out of trouble. And keep yourself alive.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m too stubborn to die, remember? Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easy. It’s either spend the next fifty years with me or kill me yourself.”

“Never,” she declares, and pulls back to look at him. “I like having you around.”

“Yeah? Well I like hanging out here, so...”

She smiles, then leans in to kiss him. Long and soft and sweet. “You reek by the way,” she teases, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she shoves him onto his back. “You need to clean yourself up. We’ve got plans for tonight.”

“What kind of plans? It can’t be the sexy kind of plans because we’re still on the no-fly list, so....”

“The kind of plans that involve you having to wear actual pants. And underwear.”

“Both? What the fuck? We’re going all fancy and shit. Do I have to shave too?”

“Maybe tidy it up a bit. So you don’t look homeless.”

“I thought you liked it this length. Because it rubs places in all the right ways.”  he gives her a wink, and then chuckles when she grabs a towel, smacks him in the side of the head with it and then drops it over his face. “Hey, those were your exact words.”

“We are going out. In public. And I said trim the beard. Not shave it. Because you’d probably traumatize your children if you did that. That’s how they know you. With a beard.”

“It’d probably traumatize you too. If cutting the hair didn’t do it, shaving the beard will. So I’ll be nice. I’ll spare you any extra emotional suffering. And where are we going?” he sits up and uses the towel to vigorously rub at his hair. “Am I at least allowed to know that?”

“Out. With my brother. And Nik.”

Tyler groans.

“We need to make nice. Or so my brother says. I told him I’d be civil, at least.”

“I think I’m getting a sore throat. And a fever. I feel hot. Do I feel hot to you? Check my temperature.”

“You’ll be fine,” she says, as she heads for the door. “Remember. Shower. Underwear. Normal pants.”

“Not even shorts? Like cargo shorts?”

“Pants!” she insists, then tosses him the unopened bottle of water. “I’ll go as far as allowing jeans or cargo pants. But they have to be pants.”

“You’re bossy,” he complains, then flops onto his back and lies spread-eagled in the middle of the floor, towel over his face. “Wake me up a half an hour before we leave.”

“The school bus comes in sixty minutes. I’m going to get you up in fifty-nine.”

“You know,” he muses. Underwear? Normal pants? You’re damn lucky I love you as much as I do.”

“Yes,” she grins before stepping out the door.  “I am.”

[tsipasce]

Same Difference, Ch.10

A/N: FYI, more violence with a spritz of character development~

Chapters: 01  |  02 |  03 |  04 | 05  | 06 | 07 | 08 |  09

AO3 | Fanfic

A month had passed since Nanami began training with Rappa. Though she regularly checked her eardrums to make sure they hadn’t ruptured from his teaching style, aka yelling 24/7, she was already seeing the benefits. Thanks to his recommendation to add some more proteins and healthy fats to her diet, she noticed her muscles were more toned. And thanks to his “be ready for a fight at all times” attitude, she noticed her reflexes had improved. It was an effective way of teaching as it carried over to her life outside of the gym, much to the disappointment of Dr.Tanaka who was notorious for his practical jokes and jump scares around the hospital.

“It’s no fair, you’re always so ~*cool and reserved *~ now. How am I supposed to get in my midday pick-me-up pranks in now?” Tanaka whined as they sat in the café for their coffee date.

“Oh, so I’m cool now? Besides, if you need a mental break, just lock your office door and hide under your desk like the rest of us functioning adults.” She replied, casually sipping her drink while checking her phone.

“You kids nowadays, always so depressing. What’s got you so zoned into your phone anyways?”

“One, you’re literally only 5 years older than me. And two, you wouldn’t get it, old man.”

Tanaka gasped dramatically clutching at an imaginary dagger in his heart. “You wound me—oh thank you!” he responded as the barista brought his drink over, cutting off what Nanami was sure would have been a Shakespearean performance. “Anyway, so how’re your classes going? You look like you’re getting shredded already.”

“Oh please, it’s only been a month or so. But to answer your question… it’s been awesome! Super tiring, but awesome, nonetheless. I feel… more secure.” The conversation was meant to be light, but the last part came out more sincere and thoughtful than she intended.

From across the table, Tanaka could see a far-off look in her eyes as she gazed out the window for a beat, fiddling with the crow keychain on her phone. He knew there was something more going on that she wasn’t telling him since her fiasco at the construction site but also knew better than to pry. From her residency until now, Nanami proved she could handle herself and he trusted that if she wasn’t saying anything, it was probably for good reason. However, it did little to alleviate his worry.

Looking back across the table, Nanami could see her friend deep in thought. Tanaka was a goofball, but he knew when something was off and when to get serious. Though she was protecting him, Hitomi, and everyone else close to her by lying, the guilt persisted. Now realizing they were staring at each other, they shared a moment of realization and then a snicker, and a laugh. A knowing smile crept across their faces, Nanami patting Tanaka’s hand.

“You’re a real bro, you know that?”

“Always.” He smiled warmly as his beeper went off, “Oop, duty calls. We’re still on for dinner next week though, right?”

“Oh yeah, let me write it down before I forget. I’ll meet you at the restaurant, sound good?”

“You bet, I’ll see you later—be safe getting home, ok?”

“Of course,” She smiled, nodding. Nothing was said directly, but she knew what he meant. He left the café, Nanami now enjoying her mocha and treats at last.

Looking back at her burner phone for what felt like the millionth time today, there were still no further messages. It had been a week and a half since she’d seen Overhaul. It was Sunday night when her phone vibrated, the text simply reading “Out on business. Be back in 2 weeks.” The follow-up text coming a minute later, “Don’t burn the place down.” Looking back at them she found herself almost sad she wouldn’t be seeing him for a bit before slapping herself back to reality. I am not sad, I do not miss him. I am elated to have a break from that moody asshole.

As she cursed into her cup, a crow perched itself on the windowsill by her table. It pecked at the glass, cawing, interrupting what would have been a peaceful break. Nanami leered, irked at the timing. Tch. Still better company. She mused, comparing the two birdbrains. She smiled smugly as an idea popped into her head that she was just bored enough to entertain. Pulling up the camera app, she snapped a picture of the winged nuisance, sending it with the caption “Found your replacement.” After a quick chuckle to herself, a sense of panic came over her as she realized what she’d done. That was definitely too casual. He’s probably carrying out a hit or something and you sent a dumb picture of a bird? Why am I such a cornball? She bemoaned inwardly as she hurriedly locked the phone, laying it face down on the table like the bad decision would go away if she simply ignored it. He probably won’t even reply anyway… He’ll just give me a judgmental look when he gets back and never speak of it again…First order of business is finding a rock to crawl under.

Just before she facepalmed herself into oblivion, the phone vibrated. Her eyes shot wide as she stared at the offending object, knowing she’d have to pick it up at some point. Clearing her throat, she worked up the courage to turn over the phone, the text reading, “Same here.” with an attachment. She opened it up, choking on her drink when she saw a picture of a dumpster.

Yup, I walked right into that one. She thought, shedding a single tear inwardly, having only the strength to send a sad face emoji.

“Busy now. See you Monday.”

Sighing in defeat, Nanami gathered her things, hoping whatever had him so busy would make him forget her blunder.

  ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was now Thursday evening and Nanami was in her workout gear, walking briskly towards the training room. Hearing Rappa completing his usual sets, she knew it was time to put her game face on. They’d been sparring twice a week after each session, but beforehand, he had her doing a myriad of drills and weightlifting. As she approached the door cautiously, she heard his voice booming, “DON’T JUST SIT OUTSIDE, GET IN HERE AND ON THIS BENCH.”

“Yes sir!” She piped, knowing he was officially in drill sergeant mode.

Dropping her bags and plopping in her earplugs, she headed over to the benches, completing her sets as Rappa counted aloud each repetition while throwing motivational insults in the mix. She knew the words “Get to it you sad sack of bones” and “you wreak of failure” had to be on a Ballmark card somewhere.

Finishing out her final squatting reps with a grunt, she wracked the bar, breathing heavily. Just as she was fantasizing about the water bottle in her bag, she heard him yell “NO BREAKS YET, MAGGOT” as he swung at her. She barely had time to dodge, but a week ago it would have grazed her and two weeks ago it would have had her doubling over as it made full contact. Without a second thought, she had her guard up and she was in the proper stance to launch a counterattack. They traded blows, Nanami landing 5 for every 10 of his. She’d made great strides, but becoming a master fighter in a matter of weeks just wasn’t realistic, quirk or not.

This continued for an hour, Nanami only taking a break to heal her injuries. Though it wasn’t the main goal, she’d cut her healing time in half, but it came at the price of pain. Having to repeat this over and over on small parts of her body, she could see how it would be slightly maddening to perform it on a large scale over the course of a lifetime. Interrupting her thoughts, Rappa landed another punch to her gut before tossing her across the room. Her recovery was better than the first time, but it still hurt like hell. She staggered, rushing to heal and counter him as he charged forward.

She was knocked down again and again, but refused to stay down. Today, she felt he was being particularly hard on her, but she wanted to rise to the occasion striking back every chance she got. Now feeling her stamina running low, she stumbled to her feet again, assuming her stance as she had the first time.  

“Why don’t you just use it?”

A bit dazed from the last blow, Nanami asked what he meant.

“Your quirk. Why aren’t you using it to defeat me?”

“What’s with this all the sudden?” She rasped, still out of breath, “I’ve been using it this whole time.” She defended, weakly gesturing to the pillars she’d created to help her maneuver around the arena.

“No. I mean on me. You could have ended this an hour ago… Is this a game to you?” He spoke gravely, sounding a tad annoyed.

“What? No, not at all. I ju—”

“NO EXCUSES. You think your opponent will care about your little hang-ups when it’s life or death?” He cut her off as he charged forward, barely missing her as the punch landed on the floor leaving a small crater. Her eyes widened at the realization that the punch would have split her in half.

“That could’ve killed me!”

“THAT’S THE POINT!”

The adrenaline began rushing through her veins as she felt the air in the room shift. Behind every blow there was killing intent. Confused as to why he was now hellbent on escalating the match, she managed to blurt out “W-why are you doing this?!” as she rolled to dodge another potentially fatal blow.

“YOU’RE MESSING AROUND. TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY AND STOP BEING A FUCKING COWARD!”

Still not understanding his anger, she continued to try and dodge like her life depended on it, because in that moment, it did.

“THERE’S NOTHING MORE DISRESPECTFUL THAN HOLDING BACK WHEN YOUR OPPONENT IS GIVING THEIR ALL. YOU’RE GONNA DIE RIGHT HERE IF YOU DON’T FIGHT ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT!”

She knew what he wanted her to do, but the fear of losing control was still there. In her moment of doubt, he landed a blow that sent her flying into one of her pillars. She heard a sickening snap as her leg bashed into the corner of the structure, undoubtedly shattering her femur. The pain was more than she expected, and she cried out bitterly for a moment before stifling it once again as blood welled up into her mouth from the previous blows. Spitting lazily, she saw him stalking towards her as he continued to speak, “Do you think someone in a real match is going to use restraint and wait for you to have your little breakthrough? Plenty of weaklings would kill to have a quirk like yours, but here you are wasting it. Makes me sick.” He spat, as he bent down to hold her up by the neck and she thrashed in vain to break free. “I dunno who I saw during that trial, but you sure as hell aren’t her. Let me end this pathetic existence for ya,” he said squeezing tighter.

Suddenly, the fear turned into anger and a calm rage came over her as she stopped thrashing and used her right hand to grasp firmly on his wrist. “You don’t know shit about me, but you’re about to fuck around and find out.” Taking as deep a breath as she could while still in his chokehold, Nanami focused on his anatomy, surveying every cell, every blood vessel, and every hair. In the next instant, she dropped to the floor as red coated the arena. Looking up, a moment of pure terror took over her being as the flashbacks to the first time she’d done this took over. Hyperventilating, a million thoughts raced through her mind. Just as she was felt she was drowning, she felt two hands grabbing her shoulders, squeezing firmly giving her a gentle shake before letting go. It may have been part of the episode or her brain trying to regain control, but it was enough to bring her back to earth long enough to calm down.

After a few, centering breaths, she managed to recompose herself, taking stock of the situation. Rappa was now all over the room, literally coating it. No. No more panicking. You have to focus before it’s too late to put him back. Remember the structure. Remember the shape. She repeated to herself like a mantra before gaining a clear picture in her mind of how to assemble him. Pressing her hands to the floor he was now embedded in, the pieces of him came rushing back, snapping back into shape before her eyes.

He took a sharp inhale, staring at his hands in almost disbelief that he was real. She watched him closely, hoping she hadn’t forgotten any pieces of him. He stared in her direction for a beat and she wondered if “he” was still in there or if she’d brought back some empty husk. Her question was soon answered.

“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH! I THOUGHT I WAS A GONER, BUT YOU DID A BANG-UP JOB!” He boomed.

“I…I almost had a mental break and you’re critiquing me on my timing?? You almost killed me!”

“Yup, but you got me first. Good job today.” He reassured her, now serious.

Still reeling, all she could manage was a weak, “Thanks.”

He closed the distance between them, extending a hand in front of her. They clasped forearms as he pulled her up and she quickly remembered she hadn’t fully healed since the last couple blows. Leaning on him a bit she recovered, hoping to never have to fix injuries like them again, at least on herself. They walked over to the seats lining the walls and sat down, both recovering from the mini trauma session.

“Hey doc,”

“Yeah?”

“What made you wanna train?”

She flinched reflexively, posting up before he reassured her it wasn’t the pretext to another barrage of attacks. “Well… to get stronger, obviously. Why do you ask all the sudden? Never figured you one for deep conversation.” She remarked, taking a swig from her water bottle.

“Just curious. You and the boss got the same quirk. I think man-to-ma—or person-to-person combat is the greatest thing in the world, but you don’t have to go through all this. Most people with quirks as powerful as yours just kinda coast off that.”

She thought for a moment, reflecting to give an honest answer,” I want to be more than this.” She said, studying at her hand, outstretched in front of her. “A lot of people become reliant on their quirks--  and I did the opposite-- but in a way it’s just a different side of the same messed-up coin. I still let it define me. I just want to be capable, quirk or not… Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah, I think it does.” He said giving her a firm pat on the back, “Go get some rest, doc. “

He rose, leaving the room and Nanami alone with her thoughts. Thinking back to what grounded her earlier, she remembered a detail and quickly shook it off. He’s not even here. I really need to go home and sleep this off. And promptly call my therapist…

As she grabbed her things to go, she was so focused, she hadn’t noticed the familiar figure in the room. Clearing his throat to get her attention, she nearly jumped out of her skin. So much for the awareness training...

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He raised his brow at the obvious question.

“Well, not like that. I mean of course you’d be here; I just mean... like what are you doing here now?” she managed to get out. Why the hell am I nervous?

“I finished my business early, decided to see how you’d progressed.”

“Oh, ok. So… you saw all that, huh?” she cautioned a glance, more than a little embarrassed.

“Most of it.”

“…Any thoughts?”

He paused, before answering,” Rappa was correct. Your hesitation will get you killed. Don’t make the same mistake again, I might not be there the next time.”

She nodded, walking past him towards the door before taking a moment to register what he’d said, “Hey, by the way… when I… disassembled him—I know this is a silly question—but did you… do anything?” she almost immediately regretted even asking.

“Like what?” His expression was blank.

Sighing to herself she decided it had to have been her brain throwing her a bone back there to save her from a mental break, “You know what? Nevermind. I’m just tired, must’ve been imagining things. See you later.”

As he watched her leave, he retrieved a clear bag with his bloodied shoes and gloves, glad he had returned earlier than planned. Replacing his subordinate would be an inconvenience, but replacing a partner would have been infinitely more difficult.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Shadow

Ru’Yi stood in the cold wind a little while longer. She couldn’t feel that the restriction on Soul Skills had been lifted any more. It was as Mr. Baldwin had said. He only needed it for a moment.

Using Time Zero for a moment, he had brought her from the Library to her dorm building without anyone being able to see them together in the middle of the night and made assumptions.

She looked down the walkway. Even their footprints in the dusty snow were being erased.

He was stiff and silent while they walked. He’d gotten a nose bleed after they arrived. Brian said that he almost never used his Soul Skill.

Did it hurt him to use it? It must hurt him. She glanced down at her boots. He was willing to use it in her behalf, to avoid embarrassment. 

He told her be home before dark. She should probably listen to him.

She wearily climbed the stairs to her dorm at the top floor, blinking away her sleepiness and yawning. She was going to be so dead tomorrow but at least one assignment was done.

She stood in front of her door, feeling for the keys in her coat pocket. She turned the lock and felt a slight strange vibration. When she turned the doorknob to open it, the door pulled out of her hand.

Her mind was foggy with sleep and slow to react to the sight of a tall shadow. It was completely black, in contrast to the light from the street lamps outside. Instead of eyes, bright yellow ovals extended the length of its elongated head.

Her body reacted first, adrenaline swinging into overdrive and propelling her backwards. Her backpack crashed to the floor and her hands swept upward.

It advanced without moving its limbs, sweeping to close the distance between them in a millisecond.

She tried to scream but as her mouth opened and the air sucked in, she sucked in whatever It was and it filled her mouth and throat with a tingling paralysis that cut off her breath. Its arm was extended and she realized it had shoved its hand completely down her throat.

Eyes filling with tears she stared into its faceless countenance, unable to move until the breathlessness became too much and she began to struggle. She reached to pull its arm out. An electric shock, blazing pain, shot through her hands. She began to gag. In seconds, she was limp, consciousness fading, her mind screaming the words, “Monster! Monster! Monster!”

Only then it let her go. She fell, scrambling and gasping in air. After three sharp breaths, she screamed and got up to run back down the stairs to the street, blinded and frantic with terror. It swept past her, enveloping her in what reminded her of black soot.

The feeling of unbearable pain and paralysis overwhelmed her again and she fell, trembling and jerking. She wanted help. Someone to come help her! She was going to die! It was going to kill her! Her cries were strangled and strained and uncontrolled, forced out by spasming lungs and locked muscles. 

The soot-like being continued on its way down the stairs. 

Ru’Yi didn’t try to get up again. She sat up and screamed over and over.

Every light in the building came on and the doors of the dorms swung open. Half asleep students rushed up the stairs to what sounded like a horrific murder.

The gathered around trying to help her up.

“You okay?”

“You good?”

“The hell’s goin’ on?”

She couldn’t answer. Pain was making it hard to speak, hard to swallow. She could only respond with moans of terror.

A strong roaring voice commanded into the hall. “Get back into your dorms, now! Now!” 

Ru’Yi saw people suddenly backing away from her. The ones who hesitated were seized by their arms, hauled up from her and shoved away. “That’s an order! Get back!”

Brian’s grey eyes were fierce. He was snarling in their faces like a bear, his weapon prominently brandished as he swept his coat back from the holster. “Move it!”

The students scattered and fled back to their dorms. Brian picked her up and took her back into her dorm and shut the door. “I’ve got her inside. Sweep the area and establish a perimeter.”

He flicked the light on and lay her on the couch.

He leaned close to her face, his eyes swept down her body. “No visible injuries. Are you hurt?” 

He looked up, that fearfulness returning back into his eyes. Not fearing any enemy or other person, but fearing that somehow she had gotten hurt.

Ru’Yi didn’t know how to put into words what had happened and was mute about the pain still echoing in her throat and mouth. Those yellow oblong eyes left their nightmare image in her mind.

“Ru’Yi. It’s okay. Say something.” His hand went to her cheek.

Her stomach began to burn and her throat locked up. Brian was fast and leaned away right before she could throw up in his face. Cursing under his breath he reached out for a decorative vase on the coffee table, poured out the flower he water and the beads and held it over her mouth with one hand and lifting her up to lean over it with his other arm.

“We’re going to need medical here.”

With him so close to her ear, she heard the voices of the other officers over the comms. “We need two med units! Officer down! Officer down!”

“Did we find the guy?! Keep looking!”

“Can you give us a description?! Ru’Yi!” He lifted her chin to look at him. He was so scared.

She could barely open her eyes. “...shadow... it was a sh...ad...”

“Don’t...” His voice was starting to break with emotion. “Don’t! Ru’Yi! Get the med unit here now!”

“What happened!?”

Mr. Baldwin. 

“No idea, sir...”

“We have a 360 watch on this place at all hours. How could you not see anything?!”

Brian didn’t answer. Ru’Yi closed her eyes.

“Stay awake.” She heard him whisper.

She opened her eyes again and she was back on the couch. The medical team was squeezing her arm to check her blood pressure. She saw the bright orange of the flat board. 

Brian was still there, stroking her face, looking lost and despondent.

-----------------Earlier That Day-----------------------

“To be honest... I wanted to tell you something.”

Ru’Yi and Brian sat side by side on the couch in his living room. She had just finished her interview for the paper, but he wanted her to stay longer.

“I didn’t want to move schools. Mom made that decision on her own. I didn’t have any friends in that school. Until I met you.” He turned and looked at her, serious faced as usual. “I gained and lost a friend that night. The only one I had.”

“But... you got friends at that new school right?”

“I guess you could call them friends. Once I started working out the coach invited me to the wrestling team and I did well. People knew me, girls approached me. I got invited to places... but...” He shook his head. “They didn’t know who I really was. So... it never felt real.”

He looked at her. “I missed you... and only you. You’re the only one who knew the real me.”

“Brian...” Ru’Yi began. “To be honest, I don’t remember you much at all in school other than from the mean comments people made and how they used to tease you so much. They laughed when you got upset. I... I hated that.”

“Yeah... because they knew I couldn’t hurt them. They don’t laugh any more. Maybe if they knew who I really was... under all the weightlifting and boxing and marksmanship? Maybe they would.”

Ru’Yi smiled at him. “I don’t laugh at you!”

He looked away, suddenly silent. “That’s all I had to say. If you... need to go, you can.”

[writtingsparxx]

Turn My Grief to Grace

Title: Turn my Grief to Grace Rating: Hard E. Very smutty. I regret nothing. Pairing: Genji/Zarya Notes: This was such a fun piece to write! I want to thank @unseaworthy for issuing me the challenge to write this off an interaction between the two. 

Also, check it out on Ao3 as well!

Genji knew that there were some people who were still weary about working with him. After what he liked to refer to as his accident, he could understand why. There was still a lot of tension between people and omnics, and it made sense that people would be weary of him being mostly cybernetic. When he first started to recover he found himself struggling with everything. It wasn’t just because he had to relearn how to use 90% of his body, it was also because he felt completely alone and angry and lost. On the nights when he was trying to learn how to walk again, or on days when talking was more difficult than he remembered, or when his right hand shook as he tried to make a fist or move his shoulder Genji would start to wonder if this was even worth it anymore. Not only was his body in constant agony, but it wasn’t like he had much to live for any more. His brother had betrayed him, his family believed that he was dead, and he had no real other relationships in his life. Sure there was the young doctor who helped to save his life, but while she was pretty, he didn’t feel right trying to hit on his doctor. Genji literally had nothing left to live for. 

But then Overwatch stepped in. They offered him the chance to help the organization and save the world at the same time. Not to mention they had one of the largest cybernetic facilities at their disposal in the world. It was a chance for him to start again and have a new life. Originally starting out in the Blackwatch unit, Genji mostly kept to himself and his few teammates. He kept his distance from everyone else, knowing that he wasn’t necessarily welcomed by some recruits who had joined to fight against people who were just like him. So, Genji stayed quiet, kept to himself, and worked with Blackwatch to better himself and the world that he was in. 

However, the years in Blackwatch took its toll on his body. He soon found himself needing even more cybernetics in order to keep his body from deteriorating or getting too injured. By the time that he was out of Blackwatch’s control he was unrecognizable. If he didn’t know better, Genji would have said that he was an omnic. Now completely under Overwatch, Genji found himself avoiding the new recruits like a plague. It wasn’t necessarily because Genji thought that he was above the new recruits, but he figured that most wouldn’t want anything to do with the cybernetic man that looked exactly like the very enemy that they had signed up to defeat. Not to mention that people around Overwatch got curious about people’s histories very quickly. The last thing that he wanted to do was to bring up his accident. It had already taken him this long to be okay with what happened, he didn’t need a curious new recruit to cause him to spiral again. Plus, if he didn’t get close to anyone then he wouldn’t find himself as devastated when someone died at the hands of Null Sector or the new terrorist group, Talon. No, keeping to himself was the best way to protect himself. 

But, despite his efforts to keep away from people in Overwatch there was one who didn’t give him that opportunity. She was a force to be reckoned with and she never gave him the opportunity to shut her out. She was a new recruit that had joined Overwatch after seeing the destruction that the omnics had caused to her home country. There were a few rumors running around the base that she had been a world champion weightlifter at one point and that she had pulled her weapon of choice off a downed omnic with her bare hands. Other than those few rumors, Genji knew absolutely nothing about the new recruit. It didn’t take long for her to make herself known. 

The two first met as Genji was leaving commissary with McCree. Reinhardt had caught the two of them and introduced the new recruit, Aleksandra Zaryanova, or as she called herself, Zarya. Genji just stood back, away from the other three, letting McCree turn up his usual charm and Reinhardt dominate the conversation like usual. But, even with those two, Zarya kept her eyes on Genji the whole time. No matter how nonchalant he tried to play it off, he could feel her staring at him. Finally, as everyone started to depart, Zarya addressed Genji directly. 

“I didn’t know that they let omnics into this organization,” Zarya said simply. Her Russian accident was thick and dripping with disdain. 

“I am not an omnic,” Genji replied, turning away from Zarya. It hurt to hear someone call him an omnic. He was certain that people thought of him as an omnic already, but actually hearing someone actually call him that to his face was a completely different story. It reminded him just how far away from being the same Genji that he was years ago. Now he felt like he was more of a machine than a man. Zarya just huffed in response before leaving with Reinhardt, leaving Genji with his thoughts and a chatty McCree. 

For the rest of the night, Genji’s mind was wrapped up with the idea that he was honestly mistaken for an omnic. He knew that he didn’t owe anyone an explanation, nor did he have any reason to tell Zarya the story of how he ended up like this, but Genji wanted to do nothing but explain what happened. He wanted to tell her the truth and maybe she would understand. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to end up more of a machine than a man. He didn’t want to sit there and hear the hydraulics in his legs that moved him, or the small filter that helped him breathe. He didn’t want to hear the liquid rushing through tubes that circulated his blood… Most of the time these weren’t issues. He had grown used to these sounds by now. They were just a part of him. But tonight, with the word ‘omnic’ ringing in his ear, his mechanical parts seemed to be louder than ever. 

Realizing that he wasn’t getting any sleep, Genji decided to get up and head to the base’s gym. At least if he pushed his body to its limits he would pass out and he wouldn’t have to lay there listening to his body betray him. And apparently he wasn’t the only one who had the same idea. When Genji entered he realized that Zarya was already there, easily benching more than what Genji weighed. It was incredibly impressive to watch, just admiring how her muscles moved and how calm she seemed while doing it. It actually caught Genji off guard for a minute, He just stood there, watching her. That was until Zarya spotted him in the mirror. 

“I didn’t know that your kind needed to work out at a gym,” Zarya commented, moving to sit at the end of the bench, her legs slightly spread as she took a towel and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

Genji crossed his arms across his chest, watching her in the mirror. He was trying to decide what he wanted to do. Part of him wanted to leave and let Zarya keep thinking that he was an omnic, but another part of him wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted someone to know the truth and to understand that he wasn’t this monster that she was trying to make him out to be. Exacerbated, Genji reached up, lifting up his face plate to show her his still human face.  “How can I convince you that I am still a man?” he asked simply, staring at her in the mirror. 

“I know what you are. I am only sorry that you do not,” Zarya responded simply. She caught Genji’s eye in the mirror, just watching him for a second. 

The two of them just stared at each other for a few seconds. Finally, Genji was the first one to look away. “Maybe you are right,” Genji said, feeling absolutely defeated. If she had made up her mind that he was an omnic there was nothing that he could do to change her mind. 

Zarya huffed, standing up and turning to look at Genji. She was taller than Genji remembered. Or maybe it was because she had been next to Reinhardt she didn’t seem as tall when they first met. It was then that she realized that Zarya could easily hurt him if she wanted to. Planting his feet better, Genji was ready for her to attack him, but instead Zarya reached out, taking Genji by the chin and forcing him to look at her. When Zarya wasn’t looking at him with complete disdain, she was one of the most beautiful people that Genji had seen. “I can show you what you are,” Zarya said softly, her eyes raking down Genji’s body. 

“How are you going to do that?” Genji asked, a little scared about what Zarya could be thinking of. 

Zarya smiled slightly, keeping the grip on Genji’s chin. She smiled slightly, catching his eye once more. “You can still feel, right?”she asked.  Her words were heavy with implication, something that Genji wasn’t expecting. Curious as to where this might lead, he just nodded slowly. He definitely still had sensors across his body that allowed him to feel pain, and he imagined that he would be able to feel pleasure as well if it came down to it. He hadn’t really gotten the chance to test that theory out since he had recovered. “Then let me help you feel like a man. I’m in room 2642,” Zarya said, finally letting go of Genji’s chin before turning and leaving the gym.

Genji stood there for a moment, stunned about what had happened. Earlier that day, Genji was sure that she was going to murder him. She definitely had the strength to kill him with her bare hands. But now, she was offering to make him feel like a man for the first time in years. Part of him wondered if this was just a set up. After all, cleaning a room of evidence was much easier than cleaning an entire gym. As he stood there, his back against the wall, Genji pondered if he wanted to take the chance of going to her room. If she was going to attack him, he didn’t believe that he would resist it at this point. Genji understood. Most likely if he was in the same situation he would be upset as well. Still, there was a possibility that this was a legitimate offer. And it had been so long since he had felt anything sexual that it would be a welcomed experience. Plus, when Zarya wasn’t so intimidating she was gorgeous. 

It was maybe half an hour after his run-in with Zarya at the gym that Genji had made up his mind. He was ready to face whatever Zarya had in store for him. When he knocked on her door, he didn’t know what to expect. But it definitely wasn’t Zarya in only a sports bra and a pair of shorts, every one of her muscles on display. Genji had never seen someone built like her before, and was completely taken by how good she looked. So much so that he didn’t even know what to say. Part of him wished that he had put his face plate back on because he was sure that he was blushing at the sight of her. 

“I did not expect you to come,” Zarya said simply, opening the door to let Genji in. 

“I was not sure that I would either,” Genji admitted, stepping into the room. He turned and watched as Zarya closed the door. There was no going back now. Genji’s heart was racing, and he was already making note of any escape routes that he might need. But, his escape route didn’t seem necessary. Zarya made no attempt to attack him. Instead, she stepped close, putting a hand on his chest. 

“Let me remind you what it’s like to be a man,” Zarya said softly, running her hand down his chest, stopping at his waist. 

Just that small gesture was enough to set every sensor in Genji’s skin on fire. It had been years since someone touched him like that. It was enough for him to gasp out loud, reaching out to put his hand on top of Zarya’s. He just stood there for a minute, feeling her skin under his fingers, feeling the warmth radiating off of her. He wasn’t warm anymore.

That was all the encouragement that Zarya needed. She leaned forward, kissing Genji deeply. One hand ran up his chest again, the other on his hip as she brought him closer to her. The kiss was soft, tender, and cautious. It was like Zarya was afraid that he would change his mind. He wondered if she was like him: An outcast in her world just hoping for a little bit of human connection. 

Genji reached forward, letting one hand wrap gently around Zarya’s neck. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, wanting to be close to her, wanting to give her everything that he could. Genji’s other hand moved from hers, running along the muscles of her stomach, up until his fingertips barely touched the edge of her sports bra. Then he trailed his fingers back down to the edge of her shorts. Zarya emitted a soft moan at the feeling of his fingers running along her skin, and that was all the encouragement that Genji needed. 

Gently, Genji started to push Zarya back toward the bed, happy that she didn’t resist. With her sitting and him standing, she still came up to about his chest. God she was so tall. Kissing her deeply again, Genji reached down, pulling her sports bra up over her head. “You are so beautiful,” Genji said softly, letting his fingers linger on her cheek before moving to run along her shoulders, her arms, her chest. Anywhere that Genji could touch, he let his fingers linger. 

Zarya’s fingers ran along the panels of his legs, his chest, his waist. It was obvious that she was nervous about touching him or how this was going to work out, but she wasn’t shying away. In fact there were a few moments when her fingers dipped lower toward his crotch, only to pull away quickly. Her fingers then went to trail along his waist again and along his back. Zarya pulled Genji closer, placing a few open-mouth kisses along his stomach. The feeling of her breath on his cybernetic skin was almost enough for him to short circuit. Genji gasped, putting his hand in Zarya’s hair and using it almost as an encouragement to stay in place. “Can you feel that?” Zarya asked as she looked up at Genji from under her lashes. One hand stayed by her mouth, slowly running up and down his chest. Her other hand was on the back of his thigh, keeping him close. 

Genji shuddered slightly as her hand trailed up his skin. “Yes,” he whispered softly. He didn’t know that someone could have this kind of power over him. Something as simple as the fingers on the back of his thigh was making him weak in the knees. Partly trying to hide that weakness in his knees, Genji slowly sunk down in front of Zarya. He ran his hands up her thighs to her hips before running them back down again to her knees, just feeling her muscles. The second time that he ran his fingers up her thighs, he went and tugged at the waistband of her shorts, encouraging her to take them off.  Zarya obliged, raising her hips to slip out of her shorts and underwear, leaving her completely naked in front of Genji. He noticed that she had a bit of blush across her cheeks, almost making her skin match her hair. 

“You are so beautiful,” Genji said again, letting his fingers run up her thighs once more. Slowly, and still keeping eye contact with her, Genji leaned in, pressing his mouth to the skin on the inside of her skin. Hearing the small gasp from her made Genji smile. He continued to kiss up her leg, passing over her slit and going to kiss back down her opposite leg. The teasing didn’t last long though, as Zarya’s hand reached down to rest on the back of Genji’s head, directing him toward where she really wanted. Genji chuckled to himself, kissing back up the inside of Zarya’s thigh before placing a tentative kiss right above her slit. Zarya let out a soft sigh in response, her legs opening a little further. 

Seeing the reaction from her, Genji just smiled, placing a few more kisses along her slit. When he got to the bottom of her slit he stuck his tongue out, running it along her slit tentatively. Hearing Zarya moan as he reached her clit made him smile. He circled his tongue around her clit a few times, enjoying the sounds that Zarya made. He couldn’t believe how wet Zarya already was. Just the thought of her getting this worked up for him turned him on even more. Going further down, Genji stuck his tongue inside of her slit, finally getting to taste her completely. Without any hesitation he added a finger in as well, causing Zarya to gasp and roll her hips forward. The movement caused Genji to smile, his free hand going to rest at her hip, trying to keep her from bucking up too much. When he was satisfied that Zarya had been worked up enough, Genji added a second finger, hearing her moan under him once again.

Zarya moved her hips under him, adjusting until he hit the spot that made her gasp again. Genji smiled, bringing her closer to the edge. He heard a few whimpers from her, causing Genji to smile. When Genji could feel Zarya’s thighs start to twitch, he pulled away, leaving her on edge. Smiling widely, Genji moved up, leaning over until he was just a few inches above Zarya’s lips. He smiled bright before Zarya’s hand was on the back of his head, pulling him in for a deep, open mouthed kiss. Chuckling slightly, Genji kissed back deeper, moving one of his legs in between Zarya’s thighs. He smiled again, feeling her grinder herself against his thigh. 

“Please,” Zarya whispered, breaking the kiss and looking up at Genji. He looked down at her, his eyes scanning her face. She was beautiful like this. Her skin tinted a slight red from being worked up, her blue eyes blown from lust. She was panting like she had just run a marathon. She was gorgeous. 

“I have not… Not since I have been…” Genji said, all of a sudden feeling nervous. He knew that it would eventually come to this, but still. Now, in the face of actually finishing what he started he was scared. 

“I don’t care. Please. Show me how much of a man you are,” Zarya said, reaching out and pulling Genji closer. 

That was enough for him to regain his confidence. Genji leaned in, kissing Zarya deeply again. He ran one hand up her stomach and over her chest, letting his thumb circle her nipple to tease her. Another smile played at the corner of his lips. It seemed that whenever he was with Zarya he couldn’t stop smiling. Nervously, his other hand reached down to his hip, finding the latch for the panel that was between his legs. Zarya was going to be the first person to see him as naked as he could be since his accident. He was glad to be sharing it with Zarya. Once the protective panel was out of the way, Genji reached down, stroking himself a few times. 

Zarya sat up on her elbows, watching as Genji stroked himself. With her eyes watching him, he felt even more embarrassed than before. He looked away before he gasped, feeling Zarya’s hand on his cock. He looked back toward her. She was stroking him at the same pace that he had been, her blue eyes looking up at him from under her lashes. Seeing her like that made him twitch in her hand. When Zarya’s lips wrapped around his head, his eyes rolled back and he let out a moan. Just something that simple was enough to almost make him blow his load in her mouth. 

Reaching out, Genji wrapped his hand in Zarya’s hair, moaning as she took more of him in her mouth. He gripped a little tighter on her hair, smiling as she moaned at that. Genji didn’t want to push her too much and allowed her to set the pace, sighing deeply as she started to bob up and down on him. He knew that he wasn’t going to last that long after not doing anything for literal years, but he didn’t want to finish this quickly. “Z-zarya,” Genji stuttered out, encouraging her to lean back. 

“Hmmm?” came her reply from around his cock, looking up at him. 

Genji shuddered as he looked down at her beautiful face. She pulled off his cock with a small pop, keeping her hand wrapped around his shaft and stroking slowly. Genji ran his hand through her hair gently. “Let me make you feel good,” Genji whispered softly. 

Zarya’s hand stopped. She looked up at him for a second before nodding and scooting back, spreading her legs. With her lying there, Genji felt like the luckiest man in the world. She was beautiful, strong, and wanted him. Of all people, this goddess of a woman wanted to be with the broken, cybernetic, shell of a man. Genji stepped forward, one hand around his cock as he ran it up and down her slit. His other hand went to cup the side of Zarya’s face. He pulled her close to him, kissing her deeply. At the same time he rolled his hips forward, pushing into her for the first time. She gasped against his lips, letting out a moan right afterwards. As Genji pushed in slowly, he lowered Zarya back onto her back. The hand that was on the back of her head moved so that it was beside her head, supporting him. 

As Genji pressed all the way in, he paused, looking down at Zarya. He paused, leaning in to kiss her softly again. In that moment, as he continued to kiss her slowly over and over again, the rest of the world stopped mattering. It was just that moment. Just the two of them. Zarya was the first person to make him feel whole again. 

After a few seconds, Genji paused his endless stream of kisses, pulling back slightly. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, running a hand through her hair. He didn’t want to start going too fast or move too soon and end up hurting her. Even someone as tough as Zarya could be sensitive to things like that. 

Zarya didn’t respond, instead she just nodded her head furiously, moaning a little as Genji moved a bit. Genji found his footing under him and slowly started to pull out. When he was pulled out just enough so that his tip was still in, he pushed himself off the bed, straightening himself out. Both of his hands went to rest at Zarya’s hips, steadying her as he pushed back in again, going slow. He wanted to do everything in his power to drive Zarya to the edge. When he bottomed out again he rolled his hips against hers, loving the way she gasped and moaned. 

This time he was quicker pulling out, still leaving just the tip in before rolling his hips against Zarya’s, going harder and faster. Each time he pulled out he sped up how fast he pushed into Zarya, loving the sounds of her moaning and gasping out his name. Zarya’s hands were above her head, grasping the bed sheets as she rolled her hips up to meet Genji’s. “Fuck. Fuck me harder,” Zarya gasped out between moans. 

Hearing Zarya’s request, Genji pulled out completely. He tried to catch his breath before smiling. “I would like you to get on top,” he requested, running his hand up Zarya’s thighs. 

“I would crush you,” she pointed out, biting her bottom lip a bit.

“I am stronger than I look,” Genji teased, leaning in and kissing her again. 

When Genji pulled away from the kiss he went to lay back on the bed, stroking himself. He watched as Zarya hesitated for a few seconds before she went to straddle his waist. Her large thighs on the outside of his legs. Her hands were near his head as she arched forward, looking down at him as she lowered herself onto his cock once more. Genji let out a slow exhale, running his hands up Zarya’s thighs and smiling. When she was lowered down completely, Genji reached out and put his hands on her hips. 

“You feel amazing,” Genji said softly, looking up at Zarya. He smiled softly when he noticed the blush across her cheeks. He ran his hands up and down her thighs again, letting Zarya get used to him again. 

Slowly Zarya rolled her hips against Genji’s, making him smile and let out a shuddering breath. It was slow but deliberate. Soon, she rolled her hips again, moaning out. Genji smiled and started to match pace, rolling his hips up against Zarya. Once the two of them seemed to have a good pace, Genji moved his hands from Zarya’s thighs up to her hips. His fingers dug into the soft skin at her hips, encouraging her to go faster as he started to buck his hips up Zarya’s. She took his hint and started rolling her hips against his faster, causing him to moan out once more. 

Genji had already been close. It was a combination of not having sex since before his accident and the way that Zarya was driving him absolutely crazy. Genji could tell that Zarya was close too. Her legs were twitching again. Genji sped up, bucking his hips up against Zarya’s as hard as he could, his hips moving more erratically, moaning as he started to come. He threw his head back, closing his eyes as he heard Zarya swear in Russian above him. He felt Zarya’s walls tighten around him, spurring his orgasm to last longer. The pink-haired woman leaned forward, nearly collapsing on his chest. 

Wrapping his arms around her securely, Genji just kept her close. He ran his hand lazily through Zarya’s hair as they both laid there, panting. After a few seconds Zarya looked up at him, smiling. She leaned in, kissing him slowly again. “We should do that again,” she joked. Her voice was low and raspy. 

“I would not mind that,” Genji said softly, running his fingers through her hair again. He leaned in, kissing her slowly once more. In that moment, as Genji lay there with Zarya on his chest, one arm around her protectively and the other running through soft pink hair, he felt whole again. For the first time in years he felt like he wasn’t hiding anymore. This was where he was supposed to be. 

[pigeontheoneandonly]

Congrats on your follower milestone! If there are still slots for prompts, can I have more Sam Traynor and Femshep hurt/comfort? Thank you so much!

I loved this prompt.  Thanks for sending it in!

Samantha Traynor came through the hatch, bag of groceries in her arms.  Gone were the days of reliable delivery aboard the Citadel; instead, they went down to the ad hoc market that had formed in an old plaza, still awaiting full repair, its shops and restaurants long abandoned.  But it came to life every Saturday morning with fresh food from Earth.

“Jane?” she called, struggling in the doorway to tag it shut with her arms full.  “Can I get a hand?”

There was no response.  The flat wasn’t that large.  A trickle of cold percolated her gut, a bodily reaction left over from the war, from every time Jane was on the ground and the radio went silent.  “Jane?”

She took a few hesitant steps down the hall.  Saw the red stripe of her sweatshirt lying askew around the corner, her hand flaccid and pale.  Thirty credits’ worth of oranges splatted on the floor.  “Jane!”

Sam ran into the living room.  Jane lay still beside the table, a halo of blood puddling through her hair and under her head.  She fell to her knees, touched her shoulder, jerked her hand away, afraid to move her even a millimeter.  “Oh, god. Oh, shit.”

She jostled her again, a little harder, as hard as she dared.  Jane’s eyelids fluttered.  “Jane?  Jane?”

A faint groan.  Sam glanced from her wife to the table corner, sticky and red.  She fell.  But she hasn’t been the least unsteady for months… No time to think about it now.  She leaned down close to her face.  “Can you hear me?”

Jane blinked up at her woozily.  Slurred, “Sam.”

She could have cried with relief.  “Lie still. I’m calling for an ambulance—”

Jane tried to shake her head.  Winced, and shut her eyes again.  “Not an emergency.”

“The hell it isn’t.”  She opened her omni-tool.  Prayed that there would be an ambulance available, because that too was hardly guaranteed, with the Citadel in its current state.

“Just get me to the car.”  Jane attempted to push herself up.  And failed. And that was scarier than the rest of it put together, Jane, her Jane, unable to rise.

Sam took her hand, blindly, on pure instinct, needing to feel their fingers lock together, tangible.  Emergency services finally picked up.  “Yes, I need transport— my wife fell and hit her head.”

* * *

Jane Shepard came round in a hospital room, to the sight of a tall, lean figure perched on the foot of her bed.  She sat up a bit.  “John? What—”

A wave of exhaustion crashed over her, muscles giving out like cut puppet strings, and she flopped back onto the pillow.  Blinking in surprise.

“Hey, look who’s up.”  John slotted the datapad— her digital chart— back into its holder on the bedframe.

She touched her head, and found it swathed in gauze.  “What are you doing here?”

“That was a fully coherent question.  Very good.” He flashed her a smile.  It really wasn’t fair; they were siblings enough to have the same bone structure, but what was homely on her was handsome as hell on him.  Probably, that prick of irritation indicated a positive prognosis, that she was well enough to be annoyed.

Jane made a second attempt to push herself up, gingerly, with more success.  “My head’s killing me.”

“Very funny.” He folded his hands over his knee, looking down at her.  “You experienced a linear skull fracture resulting from a mechanical fall and subsequent cranial collision with a table.  The primary injury was further complicated by an epidural hematoma.  You also presented with a severe laceration, left side of head, treated by suture and bandaging.”

She glared. He did this sort of thing on purpose. “Can I have that in non-doctor-speak?”

“You fell and got a good crack on the head.  The hospital stitched you up.”

A pitcher of water sat on the nightstand.  She groped for it, oddly challenging.  “How long?”

John got up and poured for her.  “Better part of a day.  You’ve been in and out of things.”

“You shouldn’t have cancelled your vacation for this.”  Jane reluctantly allowed him to help her take a sip, then a bigger gulp as the water hit her parched mouth.

“What can I say?  Your wife is terrifying when she’s upset.”  He set the cup aside.  “Miranda convinced her to walk down for a cup of coffee just now.”

Right on cue, the hatch slid open.  John glanced back.  “She’s awake. For real this time.”

Sam rushed in and seized her in a tight hug, her head buried in her neck.  Jane returned it as best she could.  “Sam, honey, I can’t breathe—”

She loosened her grasp marginally.  Voice muffled.  “I came in and saw you lying in blood.”

“I’m sorry.” An overused phrase in their relationship if ever there was one.  

Samantha sat up, rubbing at her face.  The skin around her eyes had gone so dark it was nearly purple.  “What happened?  I checked your prosthetic after you were admitted, and it didn’t look as if anything had come loose.”

Jane bit her lip.  Shifted her eyes to John, who had already read the trace of guilt.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Janey Rose, what are we going to do with you?”

Indignation crowded out embarrassment.  “I don’t even like it when dad calls me that.”

“What are you talking about?”  Sam looked from one of them to the other and back.

John crossed his arms.  “How did you fall?”

She hunched down in the bed.  “I was doing a kata.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.  Jane—”

“I modified it,” she protested.  “I took one of the simpler patterns and eliminated the kicks and anything else that seemed improbable.”

Not impossible.  That wasn’t a word she was willing to start using yet.

Sam’s expression had gone flat.  “What is a kata?”

John sighed. “You know Jane and I grew up doing martial arts.  A kata is a form that lets you practice maneuvers in a pre-defined pattern.” His attention shifted back to his sister.  “You’d think I’d be used to your insanity.  I’m sorry that your life has changed, but—”

Samantha took a huge breath.  “You did this to yourself?!”

That actually cut off John’s lecture at the root, an unprecedented event.  Jane tried to disappear into the bed.  Sam wasn’t done.  “Have you lost your mind?”

“I…” But her wife’s face looked like a thunderhead, and her excuses shriveled before it.  A tense silence grew.

John cleared his throat.  “We’re just going to step out a moment.”

Belatedly, Jane noticed Miranda standing in the door, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. It occurred to her that she’d never seen Miranda in casual dress.  Her eyes narrowed— wearing, in fact, John’s sweatshirt.  Things must be going better than she expected.

Miranda gave them a glance, clearly awkward.  “We’ll be just outside.  Give a shout if you need us.”

The hatch shut behind the pair.  Sam sat ramrod straight, arms crossed.  “Well?”

“I’m sorry—”

“I don’t want your apologies.”  She got up and stalked away, staring out the window at the lake below Huerta Memorial, shoulders heaving.  From her reflection in the glass, Jane guessed she wasn’t actually seeing much. “I want you to stop pushing yourself until you break for no damn reason.”

She bristled. “You don’t understand.”

“You broke your skull, Jane.”  Her voice caught.  Her face crumpled.

Jane’s chest tightened.  For the first time, she felt a shred of remorse.  So she sat up, slowly, and realized as she swung her foot over the bed that her prosthetic was propped in a corner, across the room.  “Hey.  Come here.”

Sam resisted for a moment, but then returned to the bed, perching on the edge beside her and staring down into her lap.  Jane slid her arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She slid her thumb across her eye.  Wiping away a tear.  “You never do.”

Said with such futility that Jane actually felt a curl of shame.  It made her reach for an explanation, a real one, even if she still thought Sam couldn’t possibly understand this.  “It’s… hard.  I haven’t been able to move since Liberation Day.  I’ve got this constant restless soreness that never leaves me alone.  My body is used to being used, being active, and no amount of hobbling through a park gives me any relief.  I just wanted to move.  Just for five minutes.”

Samantha finally looked at her.  Tried to speak, with a heartbreak in her eyes.  

Jane wrapped her other arm around her, feeling heartbroken herself, and rocked her softly.  Said into her hair, “I am so, so sorry, Sam.  Sure, it’s what I always say, but it’s never not sincere.  I just don’t know how to…”

“I just want you to tell me, instead of trying to fix everything yourself.”  But she returned the hug, burrowing into her shoulder.  “I want to hear from you what’s going on in your head, instead of coming home and finding you covered in blood.  You don’t know what that costs me.”

Ten months had passed since Liberation.  Jane still woke up some nights to an empty bed, and found Sam in the kitchen with a mug of tea, wide awake and more shaken than she’d admit.  And though she never said, Jane knew too well that occasionally, it was because of how Sam found her, buried in rubble and mostly dead, that memory coming back in the worst way.

“I love you,” she said aloud, the words feeling insufficient as they left her mouth. “But help isn’t something I’m used to having. It’s taking some time.”

Samantha sniffled once.  Sat up a bit and wiped her nose.  “Swimming.”

Jane was derailed.  “What?”

“And yoga.” A pause.  “Something cardio, maybe aerobics.  Weightlifting.  We can find somewhere to tuck it in the flat if you don’t want to go out, but I hardly expect security will stop you at the navy gym, retired or no.”

She blinked. A foolish feeling crept over her, because she’d been so focused on what she couldn’t do that none of the other possibilities had crossed her mind.  “Someday I’m going to remember upfront that you’re so much smarter than me.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”  Sam took her hand.  “But by god Jane, you have your blind spots.”

Jane chuckled.  She couldn’t help it.  And after a moment, Samantha joined in.

[sakuurae]

Angsty #18 and #20 from 'Writing Prompts 2.0' for Jaehyun please!

Prompts: “I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen.”“H-How long have you been standing there?”

pairing: jaehyun & reader insertgenre: angstwc: 2.3knote: this was inspired a little bit by weightlifting fairy! i also wanted to add more but my mind is tired and i just came back from a friends house ;; ill do the rest tomorrow! ^~^

It was not an everyday occurrence for your boyfriend, Jaehyun, to cross the demarcation of what was right and wrong in your relationship.

Rather than the boundary being prominent, it was a dashed line to Jaehyun; he was unable to differentiate from the good he had committed in the relationship, and the bad, but that never stopped him from working to his premier ability.

Though, tonight was one of the nights he had unpremeditatedly crossed the boundary.

It was a complicated situation—the series of events that had been spurred out of an irate twist. Jaehyun’s ex-girlfriend had came back to town in search of him, a plethora of apologies pouring from her mouth whenever she had the chance. Jaehyun was never one to speak about his ex-relationships; you assumed it was too scarring for him to voice a thought about, but you never saw it as a protective caution he committed to.

And that was one of the many mistakes.

You always assumed that you had a substantial part in Jaehyun’s life, considering the two and a half years you guys had spent together—thicker than thieves. Though, there was always someone else who had topped you, someone you were left unaware of until her presence had disrupted the peaceful milieu.

Her name was Eunha, and she was Jaehyun’s ex-girlfriend.

When she first saw you she had a bitter look sketching on her face, bitterness lacing her tone and poison coating each word that flew from her mouth. There was an unfair treatment between you and Jaehyun that was caused by her, and it was because her sole purpose was to win Jaehyun back.

Jaehyun never spoke much about his relationship with Eunha, to which you assumed was a positive turn to move on, but it was the polar opposite.

Because your boyfriend, Jung Jaehyun, never wanted you to find out a single factor about his ex-relationship with Eunha.

Out of the many times she had stopped by his apartment, this had to be the worst.

The night was placid, serene at the least until Eunha had rushed in like a raging tornado down the hallway of his complex. Despite the cold chill of the night her body was a ball of flames that drew attention every which way. Her eyebrows were furrowed together, an angry pout pursed at her lips, and her hands were compactly balled to fists.

She banged on Jaehyun’s door, annoyed and desperate until he swung it open with a sigh.

Jaehyun’s head was tilted to the walls of his apartment, unable to look at the pathetic appearance of his ex-girlfriend. “What do you want, Eunha?”

“Same reason as always,” she admitted with a nod; her curls bounced amidst like perfect onyx convolutions.

Jaehyun’s hand was gripping hard onto the doorknob, knuckles white from anger being channeled to the simple action. A line of quietude lapsed around the scene and no words were exchanged for a long while, almost as if speaking was the final straw.

“I already told you,” he said lowly, “it won’t happen.”

“But why?” She stomped, grabbing onto his sleeve of his other arm. “You know how much I need you—how much you need me. We wouldn’t be this far without each other, you know?”

Jaehyun bit the outline of his lip, acknowledging the validity in her statement. She was not wrong: Jaehyun would not be where he was today if it was not for Eunha.

“That was during university,” he mumbled.

“And it was enough,” she added. “We helped each other throughout every competition, and now we’re star athletes. We only broke up because we had to focus on the tournaments and making it large, but now that we already made it we can try again.”

Jaehyun scoffed, disbelief evident in his tone. “I already said no.”

The two of them used to be the stars of their university, each excelling greatly in separate sports departments. They knew each other like no one else, and they were two free spirits, once lost that came together to cajole in a flawless harmony. Then, her space was replaced by you not long afterwards.

Eunha had broken up with Jaehyun before a major competition, dragging him down low like anchors weighing at his ankles. He felt as if he was at the bottom of the sea: it was difficult to breathe, hard to catch a single breath, and his actions were desultory. But upon meeting on on accident had released the weight off his shoulders.

And not long afterwards, it had blossomed into a fresh love—the same week Eunha moved away.

“Why?” Eunha sighed, forcing a smile out. The grin that was tugging at her lips was sour, an unpleasant expression to each being.

Jaehyun swallowed his breath, finally looking Eunha in the eye to say his last austere response; though, the moment his gaze locked with hers the fabricated truth had eradicated off the tip of his tongue. A familiar, brilliant glint was present in Eunha’s eyes—they were still the same from when they first met, first held hands, and first kissed. It never left, and the sight of it made Jaehyun experience what it was like to fall in love for the second time—the thought of you slipping from his mind as if you had no place to begin with.

You were pacing up to his apartment, ready to go on the promised restaurant date with him. Fresh in a comfortable dress, your hair was done to flawlessness, and the smile on your face was irreplaceable—until you saw her. Once you turned the corner to Jaehyun’s apartment you saw the same petulant girl at the foot of his door, taking small steps into his privacy. You hesitated, reluctant to step forward and scream your complaints, and you decided to let Jaehyun handle it all.

“It’s better.” Jaehyun took a step back, unintentionally allowing Eunha space to step inside. One breath of the air within the confinement brought a dozen memories to her mind, the scent of his musk and familiar cologne evocative.

Eunha laughed, artificial at least. “Is it? Jaehyun, you still smell like the cologne I bought you.”

“Well,” he paused, “it became a favorite.”

“Because of me.”

“That’s not true,” he retaliated.

Eunha’s eyebrow cocked upwards. “Then why?”

“(y/n) loves it. She always—”

Eunha’s voice rose, booming off the thick walls of his apartment. “I don’t want to hear about her! That’s not the point... Jaehyun, I want you back and I don’t want you to be with her—why don’t you see that?”

“Because you did us wrong before in the past. You never explained why you broke up with me—the real reason why.” Jaehyun’s voice was starting to combat hers in audacity, the scorn towards the individual now seeping out. “I need you to leave.”

Eunha grumbled. “I’ll explain.”

“No, I—”

“I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen,” Eunha let out. Her chest puffed out, back straightened as she attempted to feign confidence.

Jaehyun took another step back, but she closed the created proximity with another inch closer. “Listen to me.”

“It’s been too long, Eunha. There’s no point.”

Eunha tugged on his sleeve again. “Please?”

As much as Jaehyun wanted to scream no, he was unable to—not with the way she was gawking at him with the familiar eyes of wonder.

You were approaching the open door to his complex, ready to inform him that you were ready for the date, but the blood in your body had turned to ice the second you heard the atrocious being’s voice once more—specifically, the question.

“Don’t you love me still?” Eunha pouted.

Your hands rooted into the pocket of the jacket that was draped over your shoulders and you leaned by the door, listening in like a nosy child.

There was nothing but a line of quietude filling up the thick tension in the room, and nothing more was bound to arrive—well, so you thought.

“Don’t you?” Eunha prodded. “You still have the necklace I gave you from what I can see—and you’re still wearing it.”

Jaehyun covered it with his hand, keeping it safe in his grasp. Your eyebrows crossed together at that information; Jaehyun told you it was a gift from his mother, a reminder that she was still there for him despite the distance, but it was nothing but a blatant fib.

Jaehyun paused, sorting through his puzzled thoughts. “I do,” he admitted.

Your jaw dropped, hand flying over it to shield your gasp as your boyfriend continued.

“But,” he whispered, “it’s better for us to not be together.”

Eunha clenched her teeth and pounded against his chest, beating the truth from him—something that you ached to do at that moment. “If you still love me then why are you still with (y/n)!”

You remained niche against the wall by his entrance, intrigued by the path that the converse was escalating into. Not long afterwards, the genuine honesty had flowed from his lips like it was the only answer he knew. “I need to move on, okay? Eunha, you changed my life for the better and worse, and (y/n)’s presence helps me with that, okay? L-let me move on...”

“If you still have feelings for me,” Eunha laughed pitifully, “then it would be best to not let you go, right?” Eunha pressed herself against Jaehyun’s chest, her hands roaming his back as she embraced him like two distant lovers reuniting—and it was exactly the occurrence. Jaehyun’s arm hovered around Eunha’s frame; he knew it would be wrong to return her affection, but as if there was a force drawn by a strong magnet, he was unable to fight it.

That moment you revealed yourself at the doorframe, but none noticed you. Jaehyun’s head was digging into the crook of Eunha’s neck, an arm around her lower back to return the embrace, and her breath mingled over his skin.

You stood in astonishment. From the news, actions, and scene that began to unravel before you. Had everything been a lie? From the love shared, the secrets exchanged, and the truth that you gave him—the commitment. It was all down the drain within a single lonesome night—a rough few seconds.

Jaehyun whispered something to Eunha, and it caused the corners of her lips to quirk into a smile.

You were going to leave without a trace; a lie was already threading together in your brain. If it was not for the sound of your heavy footstep echoing in the room, you would had succeeded and went on with your life, and relationship with Jaehyun easily.

But ignorance was not the best option.

The noise caught Jaehyun’s attention and he shoved Eunha away, startled at your appearance. You had tears welling at your eyes, the look of utter disappointment sketching on your expressions and it shattered your boyfriend’s heart—to your surprise.

Jaehyun took a step towards you, a hand flying out to reach for you as if it was a comforting action. “(y/n)! H-how long have you been standing there?”

But all you were able to do was step back.

Jaehyun hesitated and Eunha stood stiffly at the side, her eyes blown full as she watched the quarrel about to form. “I-I can explain,” Jaehyun blurted.

You shook your head, unwilling to hear his side—afraid to listen to the truth again. “What’s there to explain?” you asked him, your voice shaky and fragile. “You said that you still loved her.”

Jaehyun gulped. “I-I know, but, (y/n), I love you—more than anything, you know that. Please—”

“You still have the necklace she gave you!” You stomped. “You told me that your mother gave that to you, are you going to explain that? Or are you going to explain the reason you kept your ex-relationship with Eunha a secret from me?” There was something inside of you that kindled the flame of scorn, and nothing but anger flowed from your lips. “What is there to explain? That you were using me to move on from her?”

“No!” Jaehyun bit back. “(y/n), I know what I said and—”

“Would that be a lie too?” You were standing by the doorframe, ready to bolt.

Jaehyun sucked his lips in, pressing them into a thin line as he allowed an unsteady silence to arrive. Perhaps it was unsteady and fragile, but it was enough for both parties to calm down the nerves.

“I don’t want to listen to you,” you informed Jaehyun softly. “Not right now.”

“But (y/n)...”

Eunha made her way towards Jaehyun, wrapping her hand around his wrist and tugging him closer to her. You witnessed it: her protectiveness over her ex-boyfriend, and Jaehyun did nothing to shake her away.

You sighed and turned your back away from him, keeping every comment to yourself. “I don’t want to see you right now, Jaehyun.”

“But (y/n)!” Jaehyun chased, but Eunha tugged him back.

You began to trudge out of the apartment, the tears that welled at your eyes finally streaming down your cheeks. The root of your sadness was caused by the one who had brought you great happiness, and there was nothing else that could soothe your negative emotions. You hoped for Jaehyun to chase after you, to voice apologies towards you endlessly, for it would be enough.

But when you turned your head over your shoulder you only saw an empty hall and the open door to his apartment.

And rather than voicing his apologies to you, he was repeatedly expressing regret to none other than his ex-girlfriend, Eunha.

“I said it earlier,” Jaehyun mumbled, swatting her hand way, “but I’m sorry.”

“She won’t listen to you,” Eunha pestered. “You guys are the same. You don’t even listen to me.”

Jaehyun created a perceptible distance between him and Eunha, dejection chasing the moment. “I love her because we’re the same. Eunha, I think you have to leave.”

Jaehyun walked to the door, holding it wide open for his ex-girlfriend to trudge out of his door. She had the look of mercy painted on her expression, but Jaehyun acted on the better side, not letting her get to him as if she was poison—and she was.

“And for the last time,” he added. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t return—for me.”

[meticuloushand]

It was a massacre. The two suits arrived but way too late as they stood in the middle of the theatre that had become a battlefield. One of them reached into the inside of his jacket, readying to pull out his gun while the other pulled out his brick of a phone to call their leader.

“Boss, there ain’t nothing we can do. Everyone of thems is dead.”

There was a moment of silence until the person on the other line finally spoke, inhaling deeply.

“I want you to find the bastards that did this to MY men and bring them to me. I want to deal with them myself and make. Them. Pay.”

And without being able to put in another word to her, she hung up.

“Ya hear that, Clyde?” “Yeah yeah... Funny she says she wants us to find ‘em but she wants to deal with ‘em herself. Why don’t she do it?”

His ally looked at him and thwacked him on the head.

“Because she’s our boss, numbnuts.” “Oh yeah huh?” Clyde replied, rubbing where he had been hit.

Clyde pulled out his pistol and his ally, Hosher, replaced his phone with a gun as well as they begun to investigate through this mess. Prior to this whole thing, the boss lady and her henchmen had all gone to the theatre to listen to a new violinist that appeared in town and had proved to be promising. All that the two suits had gotten was that something had gone wrong and the boss was rushed out during the calamity before she could even see what was happening but only she and a few others had gone out before the doors had automatically locked to keep as many of them possible inside. There was no information as to who the assailant actually looked like. They only just barely received a panicked call pleading for help before it had gotten cut.

There were bodies lining down the aisle and arms reaching towards the stage. Hosher started at the doors and quickly learned there were timers embedded into them. What understood that it activated during the lock down but what he didn’t get was why it was so easy for him and his friend to get in so easily now.

Clyde was on top of the stage when he had basically gagged loud enough for Hosher to hear him. Hosher looked back towards his direction to see there were spots of blood that had dripped down on the ceiling onto his face but from where he was, he couldn’t see what Clyde saw. He rushed over and climbed on stage only to pull himself back when he saw another suit hanging in the rafters by his own intestines.

“What kind of sicko would do this?”

It seemed like Clyde tried to answer but all he could muster was a gurgle. Obviously confused, he looked over to his ally to find him with his throat had been slit clean through. Hosher turned around to see who was there but something hit his head and everything had gone black.

When he came back to, he was in a much smaller room. He was sat up in a chair with his arms bound and only one of his legs tied down. 

“Good evening, friend.” An unfamiliar and heavily accented voice spoke. “Mind answering a question or two for me?”

Hosher, still disoriented and unable to look clearly replied by spitting in the direction he heard the voice from and dropped his head back down. Instead of the assailant replying, she crushed her heel down on his toes. He hollered in pain and forced himself to look up at her.

A woman with long black hair wearing round black glasses and a white coat was the most he could identify as his eyes did his best to focus. She pulled up a chair and sat right in front of him, crossing her legs. “My apologies, that was rude of me! My name is Dr. Clemence Zweikopf and I just want to ask a question or two. If you answer nicely, I’ll let you on your merry way and we won’t have any trouble here.” She smiled at him to express she wouldn’t intend any harm but her pearly whites only seemed more devious than kind.

Hosher winced at her, finally getting a better view of the doctor before him.

“What’s your question, ‘doc’?”

She folded her hands together over her lap and leaned in a little closer.

“Where’s the location of Miss Ida?” “You must think me a fool if you think I’mma tell you where my boss is, lady.”

Clemence stood back up and kicked her own chair away. She walked up behind him, leaned down, and placed a red, rubber gloved hand down atop his head and the other stroked his cheek.

“Please tell me? I just want to talk to her.” “FUCK no.”

Clearly annoyed, Clemence yanked his hair hard and threw his head forward. “I’m trying really hard to get over my bad habit and you’re not helping mr..........” “Hosher.” “Mr. Hosher, how quaint.”

Without even giving him a second glance, the doctor picked up a walkie talkie and spoke into it.

“Clovis when you have a moment, I need your assistance with a patient. No rush.” All that could be heard from the other end was a short sound of static as if the person did click to talk back, but just never said anything. And with that, Clemence sat back down in her chair though a little farther away from him as she picked up her violin and began playing on it. Hosher didn’t think too much about it until he remembered that his crew had come to the theatre to see a violinist.

“You caused that whole mess out there, didnt’cha?”

She paid him no mind and continued with her song and began to hum along with her tune. He tried to put it together in his head. How could one woman do all... that? No, she couldn’t have. She was just talking to someone else. This so called doctor and musician has an accomplice but still... If it were just the two of them against that many men? They practically filled out the whole theatre!

Soon, there was a knock on the door and in walked a man wearing the same white coat as Clemence and short black hair. The two just about looked alike other than his lack of glasses and wore a medical face mask instead. Clemence placed her instrument down and smiled softly.

“This is my brother Clovis. He doesn’t speak but he will be assisting me today and he doesn’t need a voice to help.”

He just stood there with both his arms behind his back only to give him a short wave before returning it behind him. 

“So I’ll ask again: Where is Miss Ida?” “I ain’t tellin’ you SHIT.”

She sighed and raised her arms up towards her brother as to gesture to him ‘Oh well, I tried’. Clovis only looked a little disappointed but not much else can be done to prevent this. If only their patient was more compliant it wouldn’t have come down to this. He walked closer to Hosher and held it straight out. The suit only then began to try to kick and fight back even though there was nothing much he could do to stop this.

“H-Hey! What the hell are you doin’, creep?!” “My brother is certainly not a creep! He’s a doctor as well and you better show him respect as such. He’s doing his job!” “Oh yeah? What’s his job then?” He asked, uncertain he wanted to hear the answer to that.

“For now, it’s to hold your leg. I think you should ask me what I’m about to do.”

Before he could even ask, she raised her own leg and stepped down the center of his straightened out leg, putting more and more pressure down. He yelped in pain as he felt his leg bend in a way that it wasn’t supposed to.

“Do you feel like telling me where Miss Ida is now?” “OVER MY DEAD BODY!”

She stopped and stepped away for a moment, turning towards a table that had a fat television set sitting atop it. Clemence unplugged the tv and struggled for a moment to pick it up and then chuckled when she finally heaved it up. 

“Goodness, this is heavy! I’ve never been much of a weightlifter myself.”

The doctor carried it over back to him and positioned it over his leg. He shook his head repeatedly and pleaded over and over again to stop. “Did you know that the femur is the strongest bone in the body? It would usually take maybe a car to run over someone’s leg to make it shatter. But there’s been cases of other mundane accidents where someone’s femur could break.” And with that, she dropped it down directly on the cent of his leg and all that could be heard was a pained wail and a sharp crack.

“Like dropping a tv on your leg!”

Clovis wasn’t even holding his leg straight anymore, it was being held up after his leg broke in half. Hosher couldn’t even look down, he just knew it was bad. All he could feel is white pain pumping into the injury. 

“Where’s Miss Ida?” Clemence repeated.

And still, no response had come. She sighed and gestured towards her brother who dropped the remainder of his leg and got up to get a case. Clemence took the seat from him and moved even closer to him. Close enough that her knee was basically brushing against his. Clovis handed her the case and as she clicked it open, he went behind Hosher and held one hand over his eyes and his other hand pinched his nose. He couldn’t see but he could hear something metal clicking and then silence as they waited for him to gasp for air. The poor man couldn’t hold his breath anymore and the second he opened his mouth, the unknown contraption was shoved in and quickly tweaked to keep his mouth from closing. 

“I’m not much of a dentist but I always wanted to mess around in someone’s mouth.”

Clovis couldn’t help but snicker at the comment.

“Hey! You stop that, not like that! Silly...” She shook her head and pulled out a pair of pliers. As she did so, Clovis held Hosher’s head in place so it would be difficult for him to really thrash around.

“This might convince you to answer my apparently difficult question. Once you want to answer, I want you to say ‘Ahh ahh!’ loud and clear for me.”

Clemence showed no mercy as she started with his front tooth rather than with a molar. She clamped down on it and yanked down hard but it wouldn’t come out. So, she wriggled it left and right and half of it broke.

“Whoops! that wasn’t very meticulous of me, now was it? I’ll just have to do it again.”

The nerves were exposed and it was unbearable. Hosher whined and tried to pull his head back but he couldn’t. The pliers were put back in and she finished the job more properly, pulling out the rest of the tooth. Blood dribbled down his chin and tears began to well up in his eyes but still he refused to use the noise to make to give in to this demon before him.

And she pulled out his teeth, one by one until there was nothing but his gums and tongue left. Every tooth she pulled out was tossed onto the ground around them without much care. Clemence leaned back in her chair, clearly growing tired and impatient.

“I’m sorry Clovis, he just doesn’t want to work with us! I can’t be nice like you in these kinds of situations. I need to use my one and only tool.”

Clovis let go of his head and sighed but understood. She reached into the case and pulled out a bone saw. Her brother turned him around so his back would be facing her.

“You know by the time we’re done with you, you ‘ll practically be a pirate! You’ve got one leg, and you’re only going to have one hand and you have no teeth! Pirates are interesting so maybe you can make a new life around that.”

Hosher squirmed in his chair only to feel the teeth of the saw grinding against one of his finger. He screamed through the contraption that was still held in his mouth as the doctor sawed off his index and went for his middle. Digit after digit, they were being discarded on the ground with no care just like his teeth were when finally he couldn’t take it no longer.

“A-AHH! AHH!”

She stopped immediately and Clovis swung him back around. Usually she would say something snarky but she just wanted this to be over. Clemence pulled the contraption out of his mouth who slowly but surely closed his sore jaw, cringing at the sensation of only having gums touching instead of teeth.

“The hurr..” He started hoarsely. “Ida ihh in the hurr...” The doctors looked at him, trying to understand what he said. They both stared in silence until Clemence snapped her fingers.

“Oh, the church! What a nice hiding spot. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Hoser.”

With that, she pulled out a syringe filled with some kind of serum and injected it into his neck.

“This should help you pass on easier.”

Shocked, he looked at the two with fury as if he had been re-energized from the statement. “BUH YOU HAID--”

“I said if you answered nicely, I’d let you on your merry way and this whole time you have been nothing but trouble and wasting so much of my time. You didn’t have to make this whole ordeal difficult but you did. Your boss got out before the doors locked down but we didn’t notice until we went through every. single. one. of. you. So we had to stay and hope that she would send more buffoons so we could get a clear answer. And clearly we decided to take the wrong guy hostage. Your friend might have been more compliant.”

“You bih... I’ll hee you in...” He couldn’t even finish his sentence as he became to weak and heavy to speak any longer. And soon enough, he died.

“Well that was embarrassing. Let’s get cleaned up and prepare to go to the church next.”

Clovis nodded as he yanked off his gloves and the two siblings walked out of the room, closing it behind them with a resounding metallic clank.

[msbigredmachine]

Into The Deep End - Chapter 35

Sasha has always tried to play it safe, to keep her life as simple and risk-free as possible. Things change, however, when she garners the interest of a handsome, charming, younger man from a completely different world than hers. As she starts to question her own rules, is she ready to take the biggest chance of them all? Will she let herself take that dive? Roman Reigns/OC.

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

CHAPTER 34

The next day...

It was meant to be a perfectly normal morning.

Sasha got up at the usual time. Took a shower, got dressed and got T.K. and Mia ready for school like always. She picked up the mail dropped at her front door, then did whatever needed to be done around the apartment. Joe was still in her bed and she left him there for a well-deserved lie-in. The plan was for the two of them to just lay around and relax until it was time for her evening shift at the Grill, then Joe would drop her off at work before driving home. That was the plan. A normal, peaceful day. But she knew the second she found him slumped on her bathroom floor, that all of that was about to change in a big, drastic way.

The sight of her boyfriend laying in a fetal position on the cold tiled ground sent shockwaves through Sasha's entire being. "Baby!" She rushed over and dropped to her knees beside him. "Are you okay? What happened?"

His only response was a pained groan, his face scrunched up in agony with his muscular arms still wound around his midsection. She tried to get him to sit up. "Babe, what happened? What's wrong? Is it your stomach?" she inquired, noticing how he kept clutching at that body part. Maybe it was just the side effects of yesterday's party. There'd been a lot to eat after all.

Joe started to say something but he slapped a hand over his mouth instead. Suddenly he pushed away from Sasha, and she watched in utter shock as he lunged for the toilet and buried his head in it. Then she heard the sound of vomiting.

"Jesus, Joe!" She leaned over him and quickly gathered his hair away from his face as he emptied the contents of his stomach, rubbing his back until he was done. He heaved his body away from the toilet and sat back on the floor, grimacing in pain as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Sasha was exponentially worried now. She flushed the toilet and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "Wow, you're burnin' up. Maybe you've got a stomach bug."

Joe shook his head. "It's not just a stomach bug. There's a big-ass lump in my groin area and I don't know where the hell it came from. Tried to take a piss but I can't...hurts like hell...like my insides are tryin' to break through my stomach." He hugged himself, his breaths heavy and labored. "It's killin' me."

"Let me see." She managed to untangle his arms, and underneath his shirt a noticeable bulge protruded from his pelvis area. She raised his shirt, and that was all she needed to see. "Oh my god. I'm calling 911." She rushed into the bedroom to get Joe's iPhone and returned, squatting down in front of him as she typed in his password, then dialed the three digits with trembling fingers. The operator answered her call, and taking down all the information Sasha provided, promised to have an ambulance at her address in ten minutes.

"Call Doc," Joe wheezed, "Doctor Sampson. He's our ringside physician and he's in town. He needs to know."

"Okay." Finding his name on the phone, Sasha dialed the number, relieved when he picked up right away.

"Hello?"

"H-hi, Doctor Sampson? I'm Sasha, Joe's girlfriend," she stammered, unable to hear herself over her heart pounding in her ears. "It's Joe. His groin area is swollen and purple and he's in a lot of pain."

"Have you called 911?" Doctor Sampson asked.

"Yes, right before I called you. They're on their way."

"What other symptoms does he have?"

She looked over at Joe, sitting with his back against the shower stall and gritting his teeth. "He's got a fever and he vomited. He says he tried to use the toilet a couple of minutes ago but he couldn't because of the pain in his groin." Sasha bit her lip. "Doctor, what's wrong with him?" She swallowed hard.

Sampson paused. "I think I have an idea what it could be but I can't be sure until there's been a full diagnosis. Tell the EMTs to take him to St. Luke's Memorial. Doctor George Crestwood will be expecting you. I'm on my way. Try to keep Joe as calm as you can, alright?"

"Okay. Thanks Doctor."

"Please. Call me Michael. And no problem. Keep me updated."

With that, the call ended and Sasha reverted her attention to her boyfriend, sitting down next to him. She'd never seen him like this before. He didn't look good at all and it scared her. "He said to go to St. Luke's Memorial. He'll be there."

"It fuckin' hurts, Sash," Joe groaned, wincing.

"I know, I know," said Sasha, wiping the sweat from his brow. "They'll be here soon."

Thankfully, they arrived on time, and paramedics helped Joe out of Sasha's apartment and downstairs into the ambulance, with Sasha joining him inside. 

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The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever. Doctor Crestwood, a man in his mid-forties with greying hair at the temples was waiting for them, as was Michael. Joe was whisked into a private room for a quick X-ray, and the results were stunning.

"You have an incarcerated hernia, Mr. Anoa'i."

"The hell does that mean?" asked Joe, slightly calmer now that he'd received some medicine to ease his pain.

Pointing at the X-ray, Doctor Crestwood explained. "See this loop of intestine over here, right here? It's not meant to be there. It's in your abdominal wall and cutting off the blood supply to your bladder and groin regions. That's why that area is so swollen and painful. Your bowel is being obstructed as well and that's what's causing your nausea and vomiting. The symptoms could appear over a long period of time, or it could happen overnight, as it's happened in your case. A common cause of hernia in athletes is excessive heavy weightlifting. I'm fully aware that your line of work requires you to be in the best physical shape possible, but you may have overexerted yourself in the process, leading to this." He tapped the X-ray again.

Sasha glanced at Joe, squeezing his hand comfortingly. "So what's the next step?" she asked Crestwood.

Michael picked up from where his colleague left off. "We can't leave this untreated any longer, Joe. The abdominal hernia is already strangulating your insides due to the loss of blood flow and twisted your intestine. You're in no condition to push on anyway as you're in so much pain already. Even then it could get much worse really quickly and lead to a fatal outcome."

Crestwood stepped away from the X-ray and looked Joe square in the eye. "In other words Mr. Anoa'i, we gotta operate," he concluded.

Sasha froze. "Operate? Like surgery?"

Crestwood nodded. "Yes ma'am. And right away."

Joe looked at Michael, Sasha, and then Crestwood. There was no doubting his answer. "Let's do it."

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

Half an hour later the Samoan was in a hospital gown and tucked in bed, minutes away from going under the knife. From her bed into a hospital bed all in a matter of hours. Sasha felt like she was on some sort of bullet train, it was all happening so fast.

Joe met his girlfriend's eyes and couldn't hide his amusement. "You look petrified, babe," he pointed out. "It can't be that bad. You've had surgery before."

"Only once, and I was unconscious the whole time. I don't remember a thing," Sasha reminded him, worry in her eyes as she placed a hand on his cheek. "But yes, I am terrified. They better not fuck this up."

"They won't. Doc says Crestwood has done this surgery many times before. The office trusts him," said Joe. "You got my phone right? Call Cassie. Let her know what's happening, alright?"

Sasha nodded just as a nurse came up to them. "They're ready for you, Mr. Anoa'i," she stated.

Joe nodded and turned back to Sasha, linking his fingers through the ones resting on his face. "Stay. Please."

"I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise," she vowed. Willing away the tears threatening to fall, she pressed her lips to his, pouring every emotion she was feeling into the kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby girl." He gave her a small smile. "I'll be out in a bit."

Michael patted Joe's shoulder. "See you soon, buddy."

"I'll be right here, baby," Sasha said, not taking her eyes off the bed as it was wheeled away to an operating room.

"Gotta call Vince, tell him what's going on," Michael muttered, pulling out his phone.

"Yeah." Her mouth felt so dry she could barely speak.

The WWE doctor stopped what he was doing to observe her closely. "Sasha, you're shaking."

"I..." She glanced down at her trembling hand but she could barely see it through her tears. She looked up helplessly at Michael, who put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Come with me." He led her into a private waiting room and coaxed her into a seat. "You can sit in here and wait. No one will bother you here. There's coffee down the hall if you'd like." He looked at her with kind eyes. "It's okay, Sasha. I know this is a shock for you but Joe's going to be fine. I'll check in on you and give you updates when I can. Okay?"

Nodding her head, she gave him a watery smile. "Okay. Thanks, Michael." After taking a few moments to compose herself, she proceeded to contact Cassie like Joe had asked, and informed her of the situation. She also sent quick texts to Pam and Reggie. From there, she waited. It was all she could do now. Wait and hope and pray.

Over an hour had passed when Cassie rushed into the waiting room. "I got here as quickly as I could. I met Doctor Sampson outside, he said Joe's still in surgery."

"He is," Sasha said. Cassie shrugged off her handbag went to sit beside the younger woman, taking in her pale features. "How you doing, girl?"

Sasha sighed. "Been better," she admitted quietly.

"Alma's in Dallas on business while Matt's in Japan," Cassie said. "They'll come down to Tampa as soon as they can. My mom will be here the day after tomorrow." She peered closely at Sasha and sighed. "Aw, sweetie..."

Tears slipped down Sasha's cheeks. "Oh, Cassie! It all happened so fast. One minute he's in bed, the next he's puking his guts out and now he's in surgery. I feel like I should have seen this coming but I didn't!"

Cassie took her hand and squeezed it gently. "This wasn't your fault, honey. I'm not sure that even Joe saw it coming. I know you feel scared but he's gonna be fine. Relax. Take a deep breath."

Mollified somewhat by her words and presence, Sasha held onto her hand, absorbing strength from her. Her mind drifted back to the events of the morning, the fear that had gripped her as she thought the worst. She was just glad that T.K. and Mia had not been at home to witness any of it. She fought off all the negative thoughts swirling around in her head. She couldn't think negatively. At least it wasn't cancer like she'd feared. Michael and Cassie were right; Joe was going to be just fine.

It was another hour of waiting. And another. At last, Doctor Crestwood walked into the waiting room, looking frazzled yet pleased. "Ladies, I'm pleased to inform you that the procedure went very well. We brought down the swelling and took out the hernia. He's in a stable condition but we have him sedated so he can sleep. We've moved him into a recovery room."

Sasha couldn't describe the relief that flowed through her body at that very moment. "Can I see him?"

"Yes you can. Nurse." He waved one of the nurses over, who guided Sasha and Cassie to Joe's room. At the sight of her boyfriend, Sasha felt her world stop moving.

He lay so still in the hospital bed, the rise and fall of his broad chest barely visible through his bulky hospital gown. There was a clamp on his left index finger, a blood pressure cuff on his left arm and an I.V. in the crook of his elbow. She walked over to his right side and sank down into the chair next to the bed. She stroked his hand and stared lovingly at his sleeping face.

A frazzled-looking Michael entered the room and stood by the foot of Joe's bed. "How long will he sleep?" Sasha asked.

"A couple of hours. It's better if it's for longer so the anesthesia will have time to wear off."

"And what about work? When can he wrestle again?"

"It's too soon to tell. They'll keep him overnight to monitor and assess him. It could take a day or two before a conclusion is reached."

"Can I stay here with him overnight?" She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I'm sure you can. I'll confirm that for you."

"Thank you." Sasha smiled at Michael then turned back to Joe, resuming her watch on him.

Her phone rang and it was Pam, who sounded worried. "Honey, I've been trying to reach you! What's this you said about Joe having surgery?"

"Yeah." Sasha whispered so as not to wake Joe. "He got seriously sick this morning and I had to take him to the hospital. He got out of surgery about an hour ago."

"Oh my gosh. Is he gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, it looks that way."

"What hospital are you at? I'm coming over right now."

Sasha gave her the address and thanked her before hanging up. She remained by Joe's side as people came and went. Cassie was either outside on the phone or in the room with Sasha watching over her baby brother. Pam arrived with three Styrofoam cups of Starbucks coffee, handing Cassie and Sasha one each before sitting beside Sasha and putting an arm around her. "I can take the kids tonight," she said simply.

Sasha smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

Pam kissed her shoulder. "Don't mention it, babe. You just be here for your man."

Cassie went outside to take yet another call. A while later, Pam had to leave to pick up Mia from school. The nurses and doctors continued to bustle in and out of the hospital, reading machines and taking notes while Joe continued to sleep. Sasha shifted her chair closer to his bed and laid her head next to the headboard. Her body felt drained as the madness of the morning started to take its toll on her.

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

She woke to long, familiar fingers caressing her cheek. Her eyes opened and she turned her head, finding her boyfriend's gorgeous grey eyes gazing down at her.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" Joe whispered.

In the back of her mind she scoffed at the statement. She had no makeup on and her hair was disheveled in an untidy bun. But that was overshadowed by the happiness she felt to see him awake. "Hey. How are you feeling?" she asked, gently kissing his shoulder.

Joe sighed. "Like shit. Floated in and out of consciousness a few times. You looked tired so I decided to let you sleep." He patted the small space beside him on the edge of the bed. "Come up here."

Her expression was uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I asked the Doctor if you could sit with me when you woke up and he agreed as long as I don't move too much."

She got up to sit on the bed and positioned her body carefully. She ran her fingers over his bearded jaw as he nuzzled the side of her face. "You smell so good," he remarked.

"It's that new perfume you got me. I wore some this morning," Sasha said, resting her head against his. "You scared me so bad, baby."

Joe pressed his lips to her temple. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I kept thinking about you while you were in surgery. I hated not knowing what was going on and I was terrified that something would go wrong and..." She paused, fighting back her emotions as she took a shaky breath.

"Hey, relax. You didn't need to worry. I'm a thoroughbred, remember?" he smirked, and Sasha grinned despite herself, glad to see he was still his old confident self.

Turning his gaze to the door, he said, "Doc says this will be the difficult part; how long I'm gonna be out for, the rehab, getting back in fighting shape." He sighed tiredly. "Sounds like fun."

"Sounds like a challenge for you. One I know you'll handle very well," Sasha assured him. "Look on the bright side. It could have been a much worse outcome. You coulda ruptured your groin, and I for one am very relieved that didn't happen. It's hard to find a good bed buddy in this day and age," she added with a sly wink.

"Ain't nobody gonna share your bed but me, nani," Joe answered firmly, exhaling again. "There won't be any of that for a while, that's for sure. I hope you don't mind."

"Sweetie, I lasted eight years without dick. This ain't nothin'," she said with a laugh. It felt like ages since she'd laughed. "I can wait."

Joe smiled. "Good."

"I'll get Cassie and the Doctor for you." Sliding off the bed, Sasha patted his lap and smiled. "Welcome back, Champ."

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

Joe was kept overnight for further observations and tests. Sasha stayed with him, as did Cassie. Most of his friends managed to get in contact with him while he was in hospital and wished him well. WWE producers showed up the day after the surgery to record a video documenting Joe's recovery and update the WWE Universe. Sasha personally thought they could have done it at a later time when he was a little better. He was still groggy and disoriented from all the medicine being administered to him. She was amazed that he could even speak coherently. But she understood it was business and they had to strike while the iron was hot.

And then came the bad news. Joe would be out of action for four months. It was a devastating blow to everyone, particularly to the Samoan, who had stared at Crestwood as if he'd sprouted a second head. Sasha felt terrible for him. Nothing could be worse to an athlete than being told he couldn't do the thing he loved to do. But there was nothing he could do but focus on getting better and the sooner Joe accepted that, the better. On the positive side, the outpouring of love and support from the WWE fans was amazing. Flowers, cards and teddy bears came in from all over the world, as well as messages via social media. Sasha could tell the fans' support made Joe feel much better and that was perfectly fine by her. Positive energy was all he needed right now.

Joe was relieved to be discharged from the hospital three days later. Cassie took him home, accompanied by Sasha. She was pleased to see that his car had been brought back to his place from hers and figured that Cassie had arranged for that to happen. Lord knows she hadn't been thinking about that. She helped Joe into the guest room downstairs, with Cassie deciding to order lunch for her brother while Sasha went upstairs to his bedroom to move his things downstairs. "We need to find somewhere to keep all these gifts and flowers from your fans," she said cheerfully, pushing into the guest room with a stack of Get Well Soon cards. "I could bring all of it in here if you want. I did see a little stuffed bunny rabbit that I might keep for myself though, it looked so cute and fluffy." Dropping the cards on the bed, she halted at the sight of him seated at the edge of the bed, his handsome face masked in misery. "Babe? What is it?"

His voice was quiet, almost a murmur. "I hate this," he grumbled, then winced in pain. "Four fuckin' months, Sasha! Four months away from doing what I love most! What the hell am I gonna do with all that time? By the time I get back someone else is gonna take my spot and where will that leave me?" He shook his head. "I hate this. I fuckin' hate this."

Sasha sat down next to him. "I'll tell you what you're going to do with all that time. You're gonna go to work, recuperate and get back in shape, and be better and stronger than you've ever been. And when you return it'll be like you never left." When he didn't answer, she took his face in both her hands. "Joe, look at me. Look at me."

She waited until he did, and the despair in his eyes broke her heart. "You can do this," she told him confidently. "You will do this. You will come back stronger than you left and be ready to kick ass again. You said it yourself, you're a thoroughbred. It ain't gonna be easy, but you're going to do it and you're gonna get back out there and take back your spot. And I'll be there every step of the way. I'm gonna be there for you, Joe." She held his gaze with hers, silently conveying to him that she meant every word she'd said.

For a moment, Joe didn't move. Then, he leaned over and rested his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes tightly as he silently drew strength from the woman he loved. "Thank you."

Sasha smiled and pecked the top of his head, reaching up to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. "Don't worry, my love. You're gonna be fine. I promise."

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CHAPTER 36