Whumptober Prompt #5- Gunpoint

Whumptober Prompt #5- Gunpoint

I don’t even know why I’m posting this.  One- it’s garbage.  Two- No one will even see it anyways because I’m going to be flagged within moments.  Well, here it is anyway.  I started this thing and I intend to see it through, whether or not people can see it.  (Though, tumblr, if you’re listening, I seriously want people to see it.  Please.)

As much as Lucifer liked police work, hunting down criminals and making sure they were punished, there were some aspects that he couldn’t stand.  Like going to revisit a crime scene with Dan because Chloe had to be in some meeting with the lieutenant and Lucifer wasn’t allowed in.  Chloe had all but ordered him to recomb the scene with Dan, as he’d previously been restless and annoyed that he wasn’t allowed into an official police meeting.

“Lucifer, you are not a cop.  You’re a civilian consultant.  This meeting is for cops.”

So Dan and Lucifer drove back to the back alley where young Mister James Moren, a college student who lived on the wrong side of town, was shot to death.  Lucifer and Chloe has thought it very cut and dry, Mr. Moren had quite the mouth on him but little money, and their prime suspect was his downstairs neighbor who often was seen annoyed with his antics and exaggerations.  His neighbor was in debt to several bookies and needed money desperately, and Mister Moren had been talking himself up lately.  He had found a new sugar daddy that had paid for a new watch and clothes.  Those things were missing from the scene.  They just needed proof that the neighbor had committed the crime.  So Chloe sent Lucifer and Dan back to the scene, hoping they might find some new evidence or perhaps explain some evidence already found.  She said said that she would meet them at the scene after she was done.  Neither man had been happy about it, but sucked it up for Chloe’s sake, and to help Mr. Moren’s killer get punished.

“You see anything with fresh eyes, man?”  Dan asked, looking at the drone scene photos he held in his hands.

“I have perfect vision, Detective Dou- Espinoza.” Lucifer cut himself off, not because he was lying, but he had been trying to be nicer to Dan at Chloe’s suggestion.  “If I were to see something, I would've seen it the first time around.”

“A lot of first time killers will revisit the scene, to try and make sure the evidence is gone, or plant evidence for a frame job.”  Dan said.  “It’s always good to get a second look.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “If they did it right the first time, they wouldn’t need to come back.”

“Don’t encourage the criminals, Lucifer.”  Dan murmured, sounding if Lucifer wasn’t hallucinating, almost fondly exasperated.

Lucifer and Dan were getting on better terms after the whole debacle with Azreal’s blade.  Lucifer has realized that there was more to Dan than he originally assumed, especially since Dan had able to resist Azrael’s blade, not many humans could do that, and Dan had felt like he’d gotten his anger out at Lucifer and had gotten a bit more used to his personality.  Granted, only Lucifer knew that Dan had tried to kill him with a blade so powerful it could kill God, but Dan didn’t need to know that.  They were almost friends.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”  Lucifer said, finding a tiny splatter of blood that hadn’t been there before.  As if someone cut themselves trying to get back to the crime scene.

Dan took a picture of it.

Within a moment, Lucifer heard the flash and then a grunt of pain.

“Hurt yourself, Daniel?”  Lucifer’s words died on his lips. The neighbor, a Benny Johnson, had a gun pressed to Dan’s neck.

Lucifer’s hackles rose, no one threatened his humans.

“Is that really necessary?”  Lucifer asked, his tone annoyed, trying to make eye contact with Johnson.

“You’re cops!”  Johnson shouted in Dan’s ear.  Dan winced, and Lucifer’s anger grew.  But he couldn’t flash his Devil eyes or face, as Dan would get it as well.  He kept trying to make eye contact but Johnson kept hiding one eye or both behind Dan, and he couldn’t hold it long enough to try to use his mojo.

“Yes, that’s clearly been established.”  Lucifer remarked.  “Why don’t you release my friend from your greasy grip and we’ll just be leaving?”

“No, no, no, not til you delete whatever you found.”  Johnson said wildly.  “I ain’t going to jail.”

“Well that’s just inevitable at this point.”  Lucifer muttered.

“Shut up, Lucifer.”  Dan growled.  “We can talk this out.”

“I ain’t talking.”  Johnson pushed the gun deeper into Dan’s neck.

“Come now, this isn’t what you want, is it?”  Lucifer said, trying to guide his voice into Johnson’s ear.  “Tell me what you really desire.”

“I… I want… I want you to delete whatever that was!”  Johnson said, his wild movements still protecting him from Lucifer’s full effect.

Lucifer rolled his eyes.  “You’ve said that.”

“Look man, I’m sure you don’t want to hurt me.”  Dan said.  “I’m sure you didn’t want to hurt James, either.”

“Bastard shoulda just told me where he got the damn money!.”  Johnson growled.  “He kept saying that he was gonna get rich soon, just needed investors.  Then one day out of the blue, he shows up with a fancy watch and new locks on his door and nice clothes.  Shoulda shared.  I needed that money more than he did.”

“What is it with you humans and your obsession with money?”  Lucifer groaned, annoyed.  “All you do is fight over it and kill over it and say it’s the most powerful thing on Earth.  I’m beginning to see why my Father sought to include coveting in his commandments, even if they really just are ways to keep you humans in line.”

“How would you know?”  Johnson asked. “You look rich.  You’ve probably never went without.  Born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”

“Please, I once went without eating for over six hundred years.”  Lucifer snapped.  “The food in Hell is not something you want to consume when you’re down there.”

“In Hell?”  Johnson stopped, looking at Lucifer in confusion.

Lucifer pounced.  “Holding a policeman hostage doesn’t seem like your life’s dream.  Tell me, what do you desire?”

Johnson’s grip went slack, even Dan relaxed a little, from looking at Lucifer.

“I… I’m… I’m tired.”  Johnson said, slowly, giving into Lucifer’s power.  “I’m tired, tired of running and wanting, waiting for the breaks that come to others but never to me.  I deserve nice things too!  Why should everyone else get what I want?”

Caught up in Lucifer’s power, in his own declaration, Johnson didn’t noticed Dan moving.  Lucifer, however, did.

As Dan elbowed Johnson, Lucifer grabbed the barrel of the gun and pulled it away from Dan’s neck.  Johnson fired as Dan got out of the way and pain lit up his hand, the bullet tearing through him.

“Detective Decker!”  Lucifer shouted, holding his now bleeding hand.  “So good of you to finally join the party.  We found ourselves a murderer!”

Chloe, who seemingly had just gotten out of her car, pointed her gun at Johnson and the man slowly dropped the gun on her orders.

“Benjamin Johnson, you’re under arrest for the murder of James Moren.”  Chloe immediately went into arrest mode and got Johnson dealt with.

“Man, I don’t know how you do what you do but today I am so glad you can.”  Dan said, breathing a sigh of relief.  “Shit, man, you’re bleeding.”

Lucifer grimaced, his hand practically on fire.  And he knew how that felt.

“I will be perfectly fine, Daniel.”  Lucifer dismissed.  “Just need a quick trip to Lux and it’ll heal.”

“We should call a paramedic.”  Dan said, pulling out his phone.

“Daniel, I assure I have everything I need at Lux.”  Lucifer said.  “Maze can stitch me up if need be, and I doubt it’ll even scar.”

Dan hesitated.  “I didn’t know Maze was certified in medical services.”

“Maze has been taking apart and putting people together in odd ways for practically her entire life.”  Lucifer said, trying to gloss over the whole torture bit.  He found humans didn’t understand and most certainly didn’t approve of torturing other human souls, and he knew Maze considered Dan to be one of her humans just as he did.  “She knows how to stitch something small like this up.”

“At least let me help.”  Dan said, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket, the one he often used for picking up evidence, and wrapped it around Lucifer’s hand to try and stem the bleeding.  “That should at least keep you from bleeding out until you can get home.”

“Thank you, Daniel.”  Lucifer said, unused to this kindness.  “I shall replace this straight away.”

“Eh, it’s not a big deal.”  Dan shrugged, tying the ends in a small knot.  “It’s like a buck, I get them cheap because I buy them at Walmart.  They’re not exactly as classy as yours are.”

“Nevertheless, I shall replace yours.”  Lucifer insisted.  “I… appreciate your efforts.”

“Thanks, man.”  Dan smiled at him, a non-mocking genuine one.  It made Lucifer feel strange, like his heart had found someone he didn’t want to let go of.  Previously, he’d only felt this for Chloe, and a different version of it for Maze.  It seemed his heart wanted Dan to be apart of his flock, whether Dan was a douche or not.  He wasn’t sure what to do about that.

“I’ve got everything here, you two alright?”  Chloe asked.  “Lucifer, your hand.”

“I shall be fine, Detective.”  Lucifer assured her.  “Has Mr. Johnson confessed?”

“Yep.  Just a sad, angry, little man who got jealous and had a gun.”  Chloe sighed.  “Do you want to head home?  Your hand looks bad.”

“I would appreciate a ride to Lux, thank you Detective.”  Lucifer said.  The sooner someone drove him home, the sooner he could get away from Chloe’s influence and the sooner his hand would stop pulsating from pain.  “Until next time, Daniel.”

Dan gave his goodbyes as Chloe and Lucifer headed to her car.

The next week, when Dan came in for his shift, he found several handkerchiefs, ranging from dollar store cheap material to material he had to stop himself from rubbing on his face it was so soft.  There was no note, but he knew they were from Lucifer.  After all, Lucifer had always been a man of his word.

Author’s Note

Just so everyone knows, I won’t be posting tomorrow as I have already done six.  I will be reblogging it though.

PS Can Anyone Tell Me How To Make A Linebreak In This Thing

Oh!  Almost forgot. AO3 Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/20914988

Whumptober Prompt #2 and #6- Explosion and Dragged Away

@winedark-whump you wanted to know who Sam was, and how he died.  Your wish is granted.

A high pitched ringing was going back in forth from one side of his head to the other. He blinked slowly, the darkness mixing in with colors, until he could finally distinguish the sky from the buildings under it. The ringing shifted, assaulting both ears now that he could focus better. He tried to pull himself up, they needed to go… somewhere. He wasn’t sure exactly where but he knew it wasn’t here. Here had fallen debris all around, lots of little fires, tons of smoke, and was that blood? Not a good place to be. He tried to lift himself by his arms but fell to his left side. He looked down and saw dirt. He frowned. Dirt? Shouldn’t there be something there that’s not dirt? His eyes slowly traveled upwards and saw what was left of his left arm. Memory hit him like a freight train.

Ever since Arrow had lost her Hero, she’d become almost as fanatic as the rest of them. Phoenix and Mirror Mirror had just been causing a little mayhem, nothing too big, just a casual museum heist. They’d hoped not to run into any Heroes but together, they were unstoppable so it didn’t really matter. It seemed, however, that someone was dumb enough to try.

“Fucking lousy criminals.” Arrow sneered, Michael catching her first arrow from up in the rafters of the museum. He knew that was merely a warning shot, Arrow always hit her targets. “Always have to ruin everyone else’s day. This artwork is supposed to inspire love for humanity, for life. And taking it just leave those without. How cruel.”

Michael clenched his fist, her arrow exploding in his hand. He sneered right back at her, “Lousy Heroes. Always ruining our day.”

Arrow rolled her eyes and notched another arrow, the tip glinting in the light. Michael snarled, recognizing one of her cracked diamond arrows. Those were a bitch to get out, as if you weren’t careful, the diamond would shatter in you, forcing you to go to a hospital or risk having diamonds enter your bloodstream.

Michael grabbed a button out of his pocket, he always kept spares in case he needed a weapon, or more importantly, if one popped off his corset. He charged up, and threw it upwards. He wasn’t Arrow, with the gift of impossible accuracy, but he was a pretty good shot. She dived as the button exploded, using the rafters as a gymnastics bar, swinging herself down to their level.

He motioned for Sam to take the props and leave the ringers behind, while he charged straight at Arrow. He had to admit, some of the best parts of a classic museum heist is leaving the fake artwork behind so cops have no idea what they’ve stolen.

She jumped back at his straightforward attack, knowing he only needed one slip up to get all five fingers around her. He wouldn’t kill the little shit, but singeing her a little wouldn’t be too bad.

Suddenly, there was a rope around his neck.

“We’re taking this outside so you don’t break shit!” Arrow shouted, throwing him through a window.

His back hit the glass first, and he felt it crack underneath his weight. The shards embedded themselves in his back and legs as the force propelled him through the now shattered window. Somehow, he landed on his right foot before crumpling to the ground. Pain flirted with his body but never truly stayed in one place too long so he knew nothing was broken. Trying to ignore the bruises forming all over him, he pulled himself up, knowing in the back of his head it had been her ability to accurately throw him that had saved him from permanent damage.

A sharp cry brought his attention back to the shattered window. Sam had Arrow pinned to the edge, nearly succeeding in throwing her off. She threw a punch Sam easily deflected, tried to kick Sam’s feet out from under him which he easily blocked, then grabbed an arrow from her quiver and sprayed him with a foamy substance, which caused him to pull back and which sent herself over the edge. She grabbed onto one of the banners advertising the very painting Michael was stealing, flipping and landing without any injury to her perfect high-heels.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to break shit, you seemed to have no problem throwing me out a window.” Michael said, grabbing a couple pieces of broken glass around him. He charged them up slowly, knowing glass was a very dangerous weapon for him, as too much power would cause the glass to break and simply latch onto the nearest surface.

“Better to replace a window than mourn a priceless Monet.” Arrow fired back, notching another arrow.

“It’s Mo-ney, you idiot.” Michael jeered as it were a schoolyard tiff. “He was French, the T is silent.”

“Whatever!” She shouted back, clearly embarrassed. She fired her first arrow, easily and quickly notching another, and Michael threw his first piece. They hit each other straight on, resulting in a small explosion. Arrow narrowed her eyes at him, and smirked.

Then Sam hit her from behind with what was left of a nearby lamppost.

Arrow collapsed to the ground, seemingly unconscious. Michael stared.

Sam jogged over to him, and kissed him lightly. “Hey, babe.”

Michael cocked an eyebrow.

“Hmm? Oh that was easy. Once I copied her, I figured out her weakness. Hyperfocus. Don’t know if she’s ADHD but she can’t focus on the two of us at once without putting one of us on the backburner of her mind.”

“You’re the best, babe.” Michael smiled. “How’d I end up with such an amazing partner like you?”

“You’re a thief.” Sam smirked. “You stole my heart.”

“Would you still love me if I never gave it back?” Michael teased, the familiar words rolling off his tongue like raindrops off a leaf.

“I will always love you.” Sam whispered.

Michael gently kissed his fiancé. “I lo-”

Before he could finish, an arrow shaped like a boxing glove hit him in the mouth. A second with a net attached to it hit Sam, slamming him into a nearby wall. Sam’s head lolled haphazardly, blood trickling down a cut on his face.

“Sam!”

A punch to the face sent him reeling. A punch to the stomach caused him to double over. Arrow then brought her clasped fists on Michael’s neck, sending him to the ground with a grunt. A sharp stiletto dug itself into his left wrist, hitting the ligaments in between his hand and arm. Instinctively, he had let go of the piece of glass he was holding but found himself unable to stop the charge, as all five fingers were being forced upon the ground with the toe of her boot.

“You gotta let me up.” Michael gasped through the pain. “I can’t turn my power off.”

“Impossible.” Arrow snapped. “I’ve severed your median nerve and your transverse carpal ligament. There’s no way you can be using your gift. Even you’re human.”

The ground beneath the glass began to shift into a more fuchsia type color.

“Seriously!” Michael implored, panic starting to seep into his voice. “I don’t know how but I can’t turn it off! You gotta let me up!”

Arrow simply notched another arrow, this one tipped with what looked like a stunner.

“Liar.”

“Please!” Michael begged. The concrete beneath him began to crack, fuchsia energy building up underneath the surface.

“No!” Arrow screamed, and for a second, they locked eyes, and all Michael saw was a frightened child behind her mask. “All you criminals do is lie, cheat, and steal to get what you want. You can never trust a criminal. They’re incapable of trying to do anything good! Their hearts are black, their minds are corrupted, and their gifts are evil incarnate! Only those who use their gifts for the betterment of all humanity can truly have a heart!”

Unable to fight the growing power in his palm, Michael forced out a small breath. Small fissures raced down his hand, across his whole arm, bleeding raw energy. Arrow gasped at the sight, and looked at him, fear evident on her face. Helpless against what was about to happen, he simply gathered what was left of his strength. He had to release the energy before it got worse, and threatened Sam. Above all, if he got captured, if he got killed for killing a Hero, it didn’t matter. No matter what, he had to save Sam.

So, he simply… let go.

It seemed his left arm just couldn’t contain the power.

Ears still ringing, fires still burning, smoke still choking the breath out of his lungs, he forced himself to stand. He had to find Sam. They had to get out of there. He didn’t see Arrow but that doesn’t necessarily mean she was dead or gone. Heroes had a nasty habit of appearing out of nowhere when you least expect them. Horrifically off balance without his left arm, he turned to try and get a glimpse of the wall Sam had been thrown into.

He stumbled around for what seemed like an eternity, coughing up who knows what, nearly falling every two steps, until he finally found a collapsed wall with a familiar glove sticking out of it.

“Sam!” Michael shouted, and collapsed near his fiancé. Sam’s eyes were closed, with blood trickling out of his mouth, head leaning to his left side. “Sam, come on, wake up, we gotta get outta here.”

Sam didn’t stir.

You’re gonna make me do it, huh?” Michael gasped, dread settling into his stomach. “Fine but you don’t get to yell at me when we get home.”

Still nothing.

“Black is the color of my true love’s hair,” Michael crooned. He wasn’t the best singer but Sam always loved it. Michael had never done it in public. It was their little secret. “His face so soft and wondrous fair, the purest eyes, and the gentlest hands, I love the ground whereon he stands, I love the ground… C’mon Sam, wake up! Please wake up!”

He shook Sam by the shoulder, and Sam’s head rolled limply to the side.

Michael screamed.

The very same lamppost that he’d used to knock out Arrow was now embedded in his skull. Blood poured from the wound, slowly, as if the motion itself had no life left.

“Sam! Please, no, Sam, please don’t be dead, please, don’t be dead.” Michael screamed. “You can’t leave me here alone. Please, I love you, Sam, I love you! I love you more than life itself! Please. You can’t be gone, you just can’t!”

“Phoenix, c’mon, you gotta get out of here.” A new voice said, tugging on his jacket. This one sounded young, and very, very scared. “You gotta move! They’re going to arrest you!”

He ignored her.

“Please, Phoenix, you’ve got to move! This is my fault, not yours. You can’t stay here!”

He whipped around, his left arm dead weight. There stood Arrow, covered in blood, bruises but with an unblemished face. She looked shell-shocked, as if unable to comprehend the reality of the situation.

“Don’t die with him. Please.”

The “please” shattered what was left of his heart. A scream escaped his lips without conscious thought, a sound he never knew he could make, and he flung the broken-hearted shell of what used to be Michael Winters upon the chest of his dead love.

“No, I’m not letting you take the fall for this. This was my doing, not yours. We’re leaving now!”

With a strength Michael didn’t know was possible, Arrow lifted him under the arms and heaved. Michael, unexpectedly limp in her arms at first, lurched away from Sam.

“No! Don’t take me from him, please, he needs me, no, no!”

“I’m sorry!” Arrow shouted, but continued to haul him away.

Little fuchsia sparks flew past his fingers and out of his stump. “Stop! Let me go! Sam, I won’t leave you! I won’t leave you, Sam, I promise! Let me go!”

He fought against her hold but she had leverage against him so all he could do was skid his feet along the road and try to elbow her as she dragged him away. He got in one good shot to her ribs, eliciting a hard cry. He went to aim for that same spot.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, then he felt a strong electrostatic charge and finally succumbed back down into the never-ending darkness.

Whumptober Prompt #16- Pinned Down and #22- Hallucination

Tony had officially graduated from worried to scared.  Peter’s fever had been steadily climbing for hours since he arrived at the Compound.  May had called last night, panicking as she knew she couldn’t take him to the hospital where she worked, but he had gotten sick the previous day and he wasn’t getting better.  It had started as a simple cold but overnight, it seemed, it had turned into full-blown viral fever.  He had immediately contacted Shuri, as the Princess of Wakanda had immediately taken to Peter once they had finally met, and sent her everything she asked for.  But Shuri hadn’t found an antiviral yet, hadn’t even gotten a fever reducer to him yet.  And Peter’s fever kept climbing.  So Tony was scared, teetering on the edge of terrified.

“Have to… have to…”  Peter mumbled, lost in the throes of fever.

“Have to what, Pete?”  Tony asked, trying to rearrange the wet washcloths on Peter.  It felt like they’d been forced back into the stone age with Peter’s metabolism burning through antivirals like butter in a microwave.  But he had to keep trying, no matter how old the remedy was.  He had to try and cool Peter down.

“Have to find… find…”

“Find?  Find what, Peter?”  Tony murmured.

“Danger… spi…”

“You don’t have to be Spider-man right now, Pete.”  Tony whispered.  “No one is in danger.”

“Safe?”  Peter sagged against his pillows, exhausted.

“Yeah, we’re all safe.”  Tony soothed.  “Morgan’s safe, May is safe, I’m safe.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.  “Mor-gan?”

Tony stopped.  Peter’s fever was cooking the memories right out of his head.

“Yeah, Morgan.”  Tony answered.  “She’s with Pep, upstate.  We didn’t want to scare her by letting her see you like this.  We knew you wouldn’t want that.”

That had been a hard won battle.  Morgan had not wanted to stay at home, she’d wanted to be with her brother.  Since Tony had all but adopted Peter after surviving the snap, Morgan had taken to calling Peter her brother.  No one, not Pepper, not May, not himself, not even Peter had corrected her. 

“Ben, who’s Morgan?”  Peter asked, his confused voice sending ice through Tony’s veins.

Tony had obviously looked into Peter Parker’s life before recruiting him to what eventually became known as Team Iron Man.  He hadn’t wanted to go in blind to someone who may not agree with him.  He’d seen the scholarship to Midtown Tech, the parents dying in a plane crash as a child, being raised by a single Aunt after his uncle had died in a robbery.  Once Peter had become a legitimate intern at Stark Industries, and he’d met with May to discuss how Peter was going to be continuing Spider-man activities, he’d learned the rest of the story.  May had told him that Peter had been there when his Uncle Ben died, that the man had bled out in his arms.  That Peter blamed himself for his own inaction, though it had been Ben who threw himself in front of Peter.  It explained why Peter was so fueled to make sure Queens was safe, even if it meant breaking curfew to do it.  Peter hadn’t wanted anyone to suffer like he did, not when he knew he had the power to save people.

“Never mind, buddy.”  Tony said, unsure if agreeing with Peter’s delirium or fighting it was the right way to go.  He had to read more books on high fevers when this was over.

“Ben, where are we?”  Peter’s confusion grew and he tried to sit up.  “Ben, we can’t afford this.”

“It’s okay, it’s already paid for.”  Tony hushed, using the best way to calm Peter down that he knew.  Peter could easily be assuaged if their money problems were not in the picture.  “Uh, Tony Stark is paying for it.  Says he wants to give back to the community.”

That wasn’t technically a lie so he figured he wasn’t adding to Peter’s delusions.

“Mister Stark?”  Peter’s childish voice, one he never heard unless Peter was drop dead exhausted or injured, was slurred and slow.  “Ben, did I get to meet him?”

“He’s… around.”  Tony said, trying to find the quickest loopholes he could.  “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.”

Peter smiled, as if meeting his childhood hero was all he wanted in the world.  “Ben that would be so cool.”

“I know, buddy.”  Tony brushed a hand through Peter’s hair.  It seemed he had already given in to Peter’s delusions by accepting his role as Ben.  “I’m sure Tony Stark would love to meet you too.”

Peter giggled lightly, sending himself into a coughing fit.  Tony wiped away the phlegm, trying to ease Peter onto his side, to take pressure off his lungs.

 “‘M sorry.”  Peter mumbled, seemingly embarrassed.

“Please, Pete, I’ve had to do far worse.”  Tony said.

Peter’s brow furrowed.

“Ben?  You… never call me Pete.  You never…”  Peter frowned up at Tony, his glazed eyes full of mistrust and fear.  His breathing quickened, pushing Tony away.  “You’re not Ben.”

Oh, shit.

“Peter, it’s me.  It’s Mister Stark.”

Peter shoved at Tony, nearly knocking him over.  Even in Peter’s fevered state, his spider-strength shone through.

“Ben?!?  BEN?!?”  Peter screamed, trying to scramble away from Tony.

“It’s okay, kid, you’re alright, Ben’s here, I’m right here, buddy.”  Tony tried but Peter kept struggling to stand.  “Peter, you have to calm down or you’re going to hurt yourself more!”

Tony had never wished for May Parker’s presence more than he was now, but May was at work, unable to take the days off.  Next time, he was just paying her to miss the day.

“Ben??”  Peter shouted, seemingly unable to even recognize Tony’s voice, still struggling.

“FRIDAY, call Steve and Sam, get them down here, now!”  Tony ordered, trying to get Peter to lay back down.  “And call Shuri and ask what the hell is taking so long!”

Not three minutes of wrestling Peter from getting out of bed later, Steve sprinted into the room, Sam right behind him.

“I can’t calm him down!”  Tony shouted, grabbing for Peter’s hand which had been swatting at him.

“Steve, help Tony.”  Sam ordered.  Out of the entire Avengers, Sam had the most medical training as a counsellor for PTSD and other medical discharges so in case of mental breakdowns, Sam was always placed in charge.  “He’s gonna hurt himself more if he keeps trying to get up.”

Steve, ever the good soldier, immediately went to Peter’s other side, climbing onto the bed beside him.  Together, they were able to wrangle Peter back in bed, effectively pinning him down.

“No, please, don’t, Ben, Ben help me, please, stop, no, no!”  Peter’s cries for help tore at Tony’s heart, welling tears up in his eyes, but Tony had to stay strong.  He had to help Peter because Peter couldn’t help himself.

“Stark, what set this off?”  Sam asked, holding Peter’s legs as best as he could without getting kicked.

“He was hallucinating, thought I was his Uncle Ben.”  Tony answered, trying to keep his voice stable.  “Lost him as a kid, died in front of him.  He figured out I wasn’t Ben because I called him Pete but couldn’t remember who I was so he panicked.”

Peter suddenly went limp in their arms, still muttering pleas and distress calls.

“Peter?”  Tony called.  “Peter?!?”

“Please, I just want him back.”  Peter mumbled, completely incoherent.  “Please.”

“It’s okay, Peter.”  Sam hushed, stroking his leg in a circular motion, trying to ground the young teen.  “Just breathe.  All you need to worry about right now is breathing.”

Peter seemed to respond to Sam’s voice.  “Wha-?”

“Just breathe, Peter.”  Sam instructed, keeping up his ministrations.

Steve silently offered to take Sam’s place and Sam nodded, switching with Steve so now Steve was pinning Peter’s legs down, rubbing one hand up and down his calf, and Sam was beside Peter, with easier access to the teen who was now all but resting against Tony’s chest.

“It’s okay, Peter, just breathe.”  Sam exaggerated his own deep breathing, clear enough for Peter to hear.

Miraculously, Peter started to breathe in time with Sam.

“That’s good, Peter, that’s good.  Just like that.”

Tony felt brave enough to gently thread his fingers through Peter’s hair.

Sam nodded at him.  “Do you feel that, Peter?  That’s Mister Stark and Mister Captain Rogers.  You know them.”

Peter’s eyes fluttered open, still glazed over but Tony’s relief, a flash of recognition in them.

“M’ster Stark?”  Peter whispered.

“Yeah, buddy that’s me.”  Tony smiled, and Steve and Sam relaxed their grips on the kid.

“Yo’r cryin’.”  Peter mumbled, frowning.

Tony hadn’t even noticed.  “It’s okay, buddy.  You just focus on breathing.”

“Boss, incoming call from Princess Shuri.”  FRIDAY announced.

“We got him.”  Sam said, already moving Peter into a more comfortable position with Steve’s help.   “You take that.”

Tony nodded, and although he hated to leave Peter, he hurried out the door.  The faster he got this over with, the faster he could return to Peter.

“Yes, your Highness?”  Tony called out, answering Shuri’s call.

“I’m on my way.”  Shuri replied, all business.  “I’ve got an antiviral that should last for his system and help bring down his fever.”

Tony slumped in relief.  “Thank God.  How soon can you be here?”

“I’ll arrive in an hour, max.”  Shuri said.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”  Tony said.  “I’ve got to get back to Peter.”

“Go.”  Shuri all but ordered him.  “See you soon.”

Tony walked back into the room, where Peter seemed to be sleeping, with Sam and Steve sitting on the edge of his bed and computer chair respectively.

“Shuri’ll be here in an hour.”  Tony relayed.  “Said she’s got meds for him.”

Steve nodded.  “I’ll wait for her on the landing pad.”

Tony nodded, and settled in with Sam in case Peter woke up.

Whumptober Prompt #14 Tear-Stained

Woooooow guys!  Nineteen notes on my last post?  Last time I checked anyway.  Thank you.  Thank you all for the support.  I am kinda overwhelmed, my last one was more popular than anything I’ve ever had!  And here I am thinking that no one is reading this shit!  Thank you all.  I adore each and every one of you.  You’re amazing.  So here’s fourteen- this one is set after Killian’s death in my (Not sure if this will be the name but I need to name this damn verse) Villainous verse.  @winedark-whump if you have any suggestions, I’m open to them- fuck if anyone has any suggestions

......

It was raining.

She should’ve figured.  Of course it would rain on a day like this.  Once she would’ve danced in delight, it hardly ever truly rained here, and she had always treasured the rain when it did come.  Whenever it rained, truly rained not the usual sprinkle in the wee hours of the morning followed by thick fog and high humidity, that meant hot chocolate, cuddling on the couch, and her favorite movies.  She had always laughed when he put the same movie on for the millionth time, telling him he could pick one for once, and he would laugh back with her and say that he had chosen one.  Rainy days she always went to bed with a smile, chocolate lingering on her tongue.

She wasn’t smiling now.

Lying in bed took too much energy.  Getting up took too much energy.  Breathing took too much energy.

Knock.  Knock.  Knock.

“Little one?”  The Administrator.  “Are you awake in there?”

She found her body sitting up without her permission.  “I’m awake, sir.”

The Administrator slowly opened the door, to give her time to become decent she assumed.  She wasn’t sure where the strength to sit up was coming from, she certainly wasn’t putting on other clothes, but she did manage a proper salute.

“No need, little one.”  The Administrator waved her off, sitting on the edge of her bed.  “There is no need for such formalities in this trying time.  How are you feeling?”

She couldn’t answer him.  Though, she supposed to tear stains all over her face, stained into her pillow, her disgusting, tattered uniform she had yet to change out of was answer enough.

“I understand, my dear.”  The Administrator said kindly.  “You have no obligation to speak if you don’t want to.”

“Why…” She barely managed a whisper, but she said it, “are you here, sir?”

The Administrator sighed.  “I wanted to check up on you.  No Sidekick should lose their Hero so early.  And Soldier practically raised you, which I know makes his loss so much harder.”

She flinched away from him.

“Like I said, no obligation to speak.”  The Administrator repeated.  “But listen closely, little one.  This feeling, while you must suffer it, as all those with hearts do, are what separates us from Villains. They’re incapable of feeling grief, as that would mean they had felt love.”

She flinched, ducking her head. “Wonder told you.”

“That you called yourself a Villain because you feel what happened was your fault?”  The Administrator said, not unkindly.  “Yes, Wonder told me.  Little one, you have no need to think such terrible things.  The fact that you feel such grief, that means you are capable of feeling a great love.  You must turn that love you had for Soldier into something for the betterment of all humanity.  Heroes cannot be biased towards any minority or majority, and that love must be given freely.  This grief will soon become a source of strength for you.”

She curled into a ball, her joints cracking from stiffness.  She did not want strength right now.  She wanted Killian.

“If there is anything you need, my dear, please let us know.”  The Administrator said at last, realizing she was not going to answer him.  “We will do everything we can to rectify the situation.  Call is no matter what you need, whether it is help with rent payments, or a school tutor.  Nothing is too small or too big to call us for.”

But they couldn’t.  What she needed they couldn’t give.  She needed Killian back.  She needed a warm voice, strong hugs, gentle forehead kisses, blinding smiles, and so much laughter her heart might burst.  That was what she needed.  That was what she was lost without.

Fresh tears streaked down her face.  She went to wipe them away, to not show such weakness in front of The Administrator.  He stopped her hand.

“There is no shame in crying, little one.”  The Administrator said kindly.  “I have outlived many friends, even family.  Grief is not something to be ashamed of.  It is not a weakness.  Not yet, anyway.”

She furrowed her brow at him.

“If left too long in the grieving process, grief turns to hate.”  The Administrator explained.  “Hate leads to vengeance.  And Heroes do not seek revenge.  Revenge is something only Villains are capable of.”

“I’m not a Hero.”  She sobbed.

“Not yet, you’re not.”  The Administrator said.  “But soon you will be. Soldier’s death is a trial he could never have prepared you for, and you are facing it.  Take heart in that.  There is no need for you to submit to state testing, I have already submitted your trial as complete.”

She stared at The Administrator.  Very, very few Heroes didn’t have to go through state testing.  It was all there, the final step to become a Hero.  Psychological profiles, physicals, tests of strength and speed and everything in between, there were nine levels of passing Paradiso.  Some Heroes were excused from certain tests, only if they had already proven themselves, but no one had been excused from them all.

“Soldier would have wanted you to become a great Hero.”  The Administrator said.  “It was often the only long term goal he spoke of.  He had no interest in finding a wife, or a husband.  He only wanted you to become the Hero you were meant to be.  I intend to honor his final wish.”

“Thank you, sir.”  She said, wiping away tears.  “I won’t let you down.  I won’t let him die in vain.”

“I know you won’t.”  The Administrator said.  “I only have one order for you, little one, until your new Hero orders come in.”

“Yes, sir?”  She asked.

“Get out of those disgusting clothes and take a shower.”  The Administrator said, a touch of teasing in his voice.  “Wonder must sleep in here as well, until we catch Soldier’s killer, and you can be released to your old apartment.  And right now, my nose feels very bad for her.”

She blushed.  “Yes, sir.  I’ll do it immediately.”

The Administrator nodded and walked out the door.

Ever since Killian died, she hadn’t had the strength to get up, let alone stand in a shower.  But if the Administrator wanted her to clean herself up, she was going to do so.  She had already let Killian down, had already failed him.  She wasn’t going to fail anyone else, ever again.

Whumptober Prompt #8 Stab Wound

Heeeeeeeeeeey guys... Ummmmmmm

Here’s the thing.  I started this one last night. It didn’t really come.  It was like pulling teeth.  So I figured I could work on it today.  Aaaaannnnnnnddddd then I went into work- where my new manager made a mistake.  I’m allergic to lavender (which he knows I told him not even last week), and part of his job involves making henna with lavender (we make our henna from scratch that we sell).  Guess who didn’t cap the lavender correctly and let the scent go all over our office?  Yep!  My new manager.  Our old manager knew I was allergic to lavender (again, I let her knows as soon as I found out how we make henna) and I never had a reaction when she was in charge.  The first time he makes it, I told him five days ago!, I have a reaction.  And then still had to work the rest of the shift!  Thankfully I work outside so I could breathe a bit easier once I took some antihistamines.  I’m okay, though.  I’m so sorry, I’ll try to do better for #10.  I will not be posting this to AO3- it’s too short and basically unfinished.   I’m fine, guys. I really am, but I can’t write tonight.  I’m gonna post what little I have and I’m gonna go lay down.

PS I will not be posting a new story tomorrow for those who are looking, I will be reblogging my 7&9 one for number 9.

Line Break

No matter how times Lucifer got hurt around Chloe, the pain always caught him off guard.  The feeling of a bullet piercing his flesh, a garrote digging into his neck, and now a knife stabbed into his back.  He knew a knife when he felt one, he’d never forget the feeling after he asked Maze to cut his wings off, but as it slipped between his ribs, he’d mistaken it for a punch.  So he stumbled, knelt on the ground, and tried to keep his devil face inside.  The detective was here, and he didn’t want her getting caught in the crossfire.  All he had to do was get away from her without catching her attention and everything would be fine.

OMgOMGOMGOMGOMG!!! I’m so excited!  Let’s see....

favorite tv show: It changes every year but right now it’s a toss-up between M*A*S*H and The Twilight Zone- I’ve always loved those shows.  The sociopolitical commentary, the intense camerawork, the characters, the scripts, I just can’t get enough of them!

favorite tv show character ever: ............ uhhh that’s difficult.  All the ones I can really think of are technically not TV characters but movie/comic characters portrayed on TV- fuck it, I’m going with Anakin Skywalker because he’s my murder child and I will not hear a word against him.  Especially Clone Wars Anakin- he’s my favorite.  Angel wing hair, clones he loves at his back, Ashoka right next to him, Obi-Wan too... it’s good stuff.

TV show you thought you wouldn’t like but did: Lucifer- I was wayyyyyy wrong about the premise.  Thought it was just another crime drama.  Didn’t realize how funny, how heart-breaking, how fucking good it was.  Such a good show.  Love every minute of it.  Even Season four.  

favorite tv show ship: No favorite but I do have some to list off- ColdFlash, Black Canary and Green Arrow (Justice League Unlimited), KiriBaku, Spirk/McKirk/McSpirk,  Lucifer/happiness

a show you used to like but don’t anymore: Honestly?  There’s more than one.  I think what I’ll say is Flash because even though I still like to write ColdFlash, the show the Flash just doesn’t do it for me anymore.  Some of my favorite heroes and villains are in that show but ever since Flashpoint I just couldn’t do it.  I stopped watching and never got back in.  I still love ColdFlash though.

if you were able to be a character in a tv show which one would you pick?: Okay I’m cheating with this one- Captain Cold (Season 1 of Legends of Tomorrow) I know technically he was a comic book villain first but Wentworth Miller is my boi, and I love him, I’m very weak for a villain who is snarky, cold, and callous but not unnecessarily cruel- a criminal with a code of honor and a tragic past. Besides he’s a Central City Rogue, we all know he loves Flash as much as Flash loves them

a show you want to watch but still haven’t started: Good Omens- I haven’t had the time to just sit and binge watch so I still haven’t seen it.  I know I’ll love it but I gotta pay rent and live life without for now

a tv show you started way after everyone else: Literally everything?  I only watch shows based on friends reveiws, or seeing the gifs on tumblr.  I’m so behind on literally everything, and that’s not counting the retro stuff I like that hasn’t been off the air for years.  For an actual answer, let’s say Gilligan’s Island.  I fucking love that show- it’s hilarious.

last tv show you watched: Last one that wasn’t a rewatch of a show I’ve seen fifty million times? Lucifer.  Like I said, very recent.

Tagging: @fallingstormphoenix @the-wandering-whumper @whatiswhump @winedark-whump @whumpster-dumpster @jo-castle @la-vie-en-whump and @whumpingmydarlings

Have fun!!!!  I can’t wait to hear y’all’s answers, if you want to participate.  Up to you.

TV show tag game

tagged by @myellenficent 💖💖

favorite tv show: twin peaks!!!

favorite tv show character ever: dale cooper ❤️

tv show you thought you wouldn’t like but did: i can’t think of any at the moment. i tend to watch shows i know i’m gonna like 

favorite tv show ship: mulder x scully 

a show you used to like but don’t anymore: girls. it took me so long to answer this question and then i remembered that this show existed lol 

if you were able to be a character in a tv show which one would you pick?: i can’t think of any that i actually want to be, but i can think of 100′s that i want to be friends with 

a show you want to watch but still haven’t started: dark (netflix), the wire, & the west wing

a tv show you started way after everyone else: b99 

last tv show you watched: season 3 of stranger things and b99. almost done re-watching the sopranos

i tag @fovmulder, @bills-skarsgards, @eggogorgon, @cinesolo, @elizascanlens​ if you want to!