Febuwhumpday11 - Tumblr Posts

Not Getting Rid of Me

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Febuwhump Prompt - Black Eye

Prompt - ‘It's been a rough few days and nothing sounds better than falling asleep in your arms.’

The air around you was hot, too hot, to the point where you could feel the sweat dripping off you. The heat, it was never a good thing when mixed with exhaustion and today was no exception as you listened as the group argued amongst themselves, glancing back at you every so often as you sat with your hands cuffed to the chair.

“I’m tellin’ ya she knows ‘im.” One of the men insisted, pointing over at you like that would help make his point.

“Man, I’m tired of hearing your damn voice. We’ve been at this for two days, she ain’t saying shit and Castle ain’t comin’ for her.” Another said as he pushed against the first man's chest.

“You wanna do that again?” The first man said, stepping forward only to be shoved back by the man you assumed was in charge.

“Shut the hell up, the pair of ya,” He snapped before he walked over to you and squatted down. From here you could see the beads of sweat on his own forehead. “Now girly, we don’t wanna be hurting ya but the thing is Frank Castle hurt a lot of my men so now I gotta deal with that, you understand, right sweetheart?”

You licked your looks, raising an eyebrow at the man before you tilted your head back only to bring it smashing down against his seconds later, eyes scrunching in pain as you pulled away before you pried them open to see the man on the floor holding his bleeding nose.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that doll.” He warned you, spitting out a mouthful of blood as his friends helped him stand.

“Call me doll again and you’ll be the one regretting it.” You snarled, tugging against your restraints as you cursed the day you ever met Frank Castle whilst also begging for him to hurry up and find you.

“I like you, such a feisty thing ain’t ya? Too bad I gotta kill ya, slowly, painfully, coulda been nice, keepin’ ya around.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face causing you to lean back as far as you could with a glare. “Hell, I’ll make ya a deal, just tell me about the big, bag Punisher and I let you go.”

“I already told you,” You repeated for the twenty fifth time in the past two days, “I don’t know Frank Castle.”

“Ya expecting me to believe that, are ya? No, no, no, ya see I know ya lying to me, girly, my man said he saw Castle sneaking in and outta ya apartment, so no more bullshit now, alright? Just tell us where he is.” The man said and you didn’t even bother to respond, just shifted in your seat as you stared up at him, defiantly jutting your chin out causing him to grin.

“Ya really are a tough little thing, ain’t ya?” He told you before he swung his fist back and let it connect to your face, a pained cry leaving your lips as his brass knuckles connected with your cheek, cutting into the skin as blood leaked from the wounds.

“That was just a warning.” He told you before his fist hit your cheek once more as you desperately tried to blink back tears, face scrunched up in pain as you felt more blood pool around the cuts and slide down your cheeks.

Frank smashed the low life’s race against the brick wall before dragging him back using the strong grip he had on the guy's hair.

“I’m only gonna ask you this once more,” Frank murmured into his ear, “Who’s looking for me?”

The guy denied all knowledge once again and Frank grinned.

“Alright,” he said, pulling the guy's head back and getting ready to smash it against the wall again.

“Wait, wait, wait, maybe I know somethin’.” He said, causing Frank to pause just before his face connected with the wall. “Yeah, yeah, The Punisher right, s’what they’re callin’ you, yeah maybe some guys were talking bout you.”

“What guys?” Frank asked, losing his patience, two days of punching, shooting and killing people in this heat wave and he was still no closer to finding you.

He knew, he knew he should’ve been more careful, knew he should never have got involved with you because something like this was always going to happen.

“I don’t know,,” he said and Frank pulled his head back and the guy began sputtering again, “whoa hold up man, hold up, they were British right, they were British, s’all I know, s’all I know, s’all I know.”

Frank threw the guy on the ground and turned away, walking away with his guns drawn knowing exactly who had taken you.

It didn’t take him long to pull up to a bar, flinging the doors open and standing in the doorway with his gun raised. The room fell silent as the bartender raised a hand non threateningly, the other reaching beneath the bar.

“We don’t want any trouble.” He said, British accent filling the silence.

“You’re gonna tell me where she is and you’re gonna tell me now.” Frank said quietly, calmly, shooting a bullet into the man’s shoulder as he drew his own gun.

“I said,” he said, pressing the gun against the guy’s chest, “you’re gonna tell me where she is.”

“Hey, I don’t know who you’re talking about!” He protested.

“The guys following me took my girl, I don’t appreciate that much, so you’re gonna tell me where they’re hiding her or I’m gonna kill you, slowly, maybe I start by cutting off your fingers one at a time-“

“Alright, alright, their secrets aren’t worth my life,” the bartender gave in easily, raising his hands, “there’s a warehouse, not too far from here, that’s where they’re holdin’ her, I swear.”

Frank got the directions before he headed out of the bar, slamming the door of his van shut as he hit the gas, breaking every speeding law but that was the best of his long list of crimes.

You watched as the man lifted a pair of pliers off the work table before he crouched down in front of you.

“Now dear, this is only gonna hurt a hell of a lot.” He told you with a grin before he placed the pliers under one of your fingernails and began to pull, causing you to let out a scream.

Frank climbed out of the car, freezing as he heard your scream echo from somewhere inside the building. It took him a second to shake himself into action, grabbing his guns and making quick, but quiet, work of sneaking into the warehouse, hating that he had to follow the sound of your screams.

You withered against the restraints as your fingernails were pulled off, slowly and painfully, throwing you head back in agony. As the man moved onto the next fingernail you bucked up against the seat, trying to move any part of your body but you couldn’t, ankles and wrists tied to the chair and you let out another scream, sobbing loudly as you pleaded with him to stop, begging him.

“You want it to stop?” He laughed, shoving his face under yours. “All you have to do is tell me where the big, bad punisher is.”

You sobbed, panting for breath at the short break you were given before you shook your head, mouthing the word ‘no’ repeatedly but no sound came out.

“No, no,” he laughed, looking down at you in disbelief before over to the others in the room. “You believe this girl? Tough bitch.”

You started screaming again as he took one of your nailless finger tips in his hand, squeezing down painfully before the sound of gunshots filled the room.

You looked up, forcing your eyes open before slumping in your seat in utter relief as you watched Frank shoot down the men in the room before he marched over and grabbed the man hurting you, throwing him up against the wall and aiming the gun right between his eyes.

“You think you can touch my girl?” He snarled, pressing the gun painfully against the guy's head causing him to try and shake it off but Frank was giving him no room to move. “Hey, you think just cause you got beef with me that means you can touch my girl!”

“Hey, relax, she’s fine.” The guy said, making things worse for himself.

“Oh she’s fine is she?” Frank asked sarcastically, “Yeah cause the way I see it is my girls strapped to a chair, missing two fingernails and sporting some nasty cuts and a black eye, so you wanna tell me she’s fine again?”

The guy realised he had no way out, his men were dead on the floor and he’d pissed Frank Castle off big time. So he whimpered pathetically as he began begging for his life but Frank just smirked at him.

“You know, you’re real lucky my girl needs me right now otherwise I’d make you suffer, I’d hurt you the way you hurt her and then some but she needs me so I guess a good ol’ fashion bullet is just gonna have to do the trick.”

“No, no, no, please, please.” The guy’s cries were silenced as the sound of a single gunshot echoed around the room before Frank turned to you, crouching in front of you and cupping your injury free cheek.

“Hey, you’re alright baby, I’m here.” Frank kept up his steady, soft stream of reassuring words as he freed you of your restraints before helping you stand, wrapping your arm around him as he took your weight and practically carried you out of the room.

The drive home was silent as you clung to Frank’s hand, his thumb brushing over your skin comfortingly and it wasn’t long before you were at his apartment and being led to his bedroom and settled gently in the bed, sat up with the covers around you.

Frank was gentle as he cleaned your fingers, pressing kisses around the skin when you winced and whimpered then he turned his attention to your face. He was careful as he cleaned the cuts, thankful that they were only shallow and only needed a quick clean.

He let his thumb brush just below your bruised eyes, wincing as you winced.

“I’m so, so sorry, baby.” He murmured, eyes wide as he took in your injuries. “I never should have let this happen, told you you were better off without me and let you talk me around.”

“Hey, you’re not getting rid of me, Frank.” You laughed shakily and he let out a huff of laughter because here you were in pain and injured because of him and instead of feeling sorry for yourself which you had every right to do you were taking his hand in his and looking up at him with a comforting smile.

“Should let me go,” He said quietly, shifting so he lay next to you with his head resting on your hair and his arms around you, “should tell me to walk out of that damn door and never come back.”

“Or I could tell you that I’ve had a really hard few days and all I want to do is fall asleep with you next to me.” You said, pulling back to tilt your head up at him.

He couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled on his lips before he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a few moments before he pulled away and helped you lay down, taking you back into his arms and holding you close, mindful of your injuries.

“Never gonna let you out of my sight again.” He mumbled into your hair, smiling at the soft chuckle you let out as you cuddled closer to him.

“Sounds good to me.” You told him sleepily, feeling your eyelids blinking closed and not having the energy to open them again.

“Go t’sleep, baby, I’m right here.” And you did as the man said because despite everything you knew there was no safer place than at Frank Castle’s side.

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Febuwhump Day 11: Fever

Fandom: Star Wars

Timeline: The Bad Batch

"Skyguy I don't feel so well" Ahsoka complained.

    Anakin turned around to face Ahsoka. She looked ill. "Let's get you checked out."

    The two walked to the medical bay on The Resolute. It wasn't too busy and Ahsoka was seen immediately.

    The droid confirmed that the padawan was indeed sick. She had a high fever of 101. Ahsoka was prescribed an antibiotic and rest. Of course with the coming mission she didn't want to rest. As the commander of the 501st she didn't feel it was right to abandon them right before battle.

    Anakin walked with his sister back to her quarters. He opened the door with the force and entered. The room consisted of a bed and a nightstand that had drawers. There is where she kept her extra clothes. The Togruta's lightsabers rested on top of the nightstand.

    Sitting down Ahsoka argued about how she needed to help in the fight. "Master it wouldn't be fair if I didn't fight. The men fight when they feel under the weather why can't I?"

    "Snips" Anakin sighed. "Barely any of the men say when they feel sick. Now lay down."

    Ahsoka complied. Of course she was stubborn about this. Anakin remembered being the same way with Obi-wan. When he wasn't much older than Ahsoka, maybe 14 or 15, the two had a mission to protect a world leader who was wanted by a rather large gang. Anakin had started to feel ill on their way and complained to Obi-wan, the same way Ahsoka had. Once on the planet Anakin was checked out by a member of the leaders medical staff. He was indeed ill and Obi-wan tried his best to help him rest. Anakin was sure he had to help. The mission was a mess but a success.

    The girl's master looked down at her. "I'll be right back." He stood and walked to find a rag and some warm water.

    When he returned Ahsoka was nowhere to be found. Anakin sighed and started looking for her.

    As the ship approached the planet below, Anakin finally made it to the clones barracks. There she was.

    Rex was sitting upright in his bunk. Ahsoka had wandered to the barracks and Rex had gotten her to lay down. Her head rested in his lap and he was rubbing her back.

    Anakin looked relieved to find her, better yet that she was resting. "How'd you get her to lay down?"

    "I just said come here and opened my arms. She came right to me."

    The general shook his head.

    "Anakin she's got a fever. Feels pretty bad." Rex dropped the formicalities, after all they weren't taking general to captain. They were just two brothers concerned about their little sister.

    "It was 101 when I got her checked out."

    "Wow." Rex looked down at the sleeping girl and softly smiled, "I feel bad. I'm gonna have to move her when we land."

   "As long as you're slow it should be fine."

    "Yeah." Rex rested his head against the wall behind him. Anakin sat on the floor near the two and leaned against the wall. The cool metal was somewhat comforting.

    When the ship would in orbit everyone started to get ready. For some this would be their last mission, for others their first. Ahsoka woke as Rex moved beneath her. "Huh? Are we here?" She said weakly.

    "Yeah kid, we're here. You're staying on this ship okay?"

    "But I have too -"

    Anakin interrupted her, "no you don't. It'll be fine if you stay here okay. We got it."

    "Stupid fever, giving me away" Ahsoka grumbled. She sat up and watched the concern rise in the others eyes. It was nice to see how much they cared about her. Realizing her being on the field would only worry them, she laid back down.

    The commander had been convinced she had to go, she had to fight with the others. Now she could see it clearer. They'd be okay. She needed the break anyway. Sure she had to get sick to know it but now she knew.

    Ahsoka was right. Anakin and Rex returned to her relatively unharmed. This battle luckily didn't have many casualties. In a few days the padawan was back at her masters side, both of them causing havoc and training.

(I really gotta catch up on these. Wish me luck.)

@febuwhump prompt: time loop

***

It takes her three weeks to realize what's happening.

She's almost embarrassed that it takes so long but on the other hand... who ever expects to be repeating the same seven days ad infinitum?

All the stories she's read and the shows or movies she's seen have led her to believe this phenomenon (aside from being entirely fictional) is the sort of thing that takes place on just one day.

She forgives herself because grief is confusing. This has been her first suffering (that she can recall, anyway) and it has been A Lot. Bursts of tears randomly whenever she thinks of Spike-person's likely fate. Heart wrenching sorrow when she considers what might have become of Faye-Faye and Jet-person. The information out of Mars is sparse. The video feed is grainy. There are more questions than answers and her sadness is profound.

Ein does a lot of whimpering and snuggling at her side. His eyes are filled with remorse - but what could they have done? If she'd pushed for him to stay with Bebop-Bebop... could things have panned out another way?

When her father does not understand why she and Ein continue to howl at the sky... at first she assumes he has already forgotten about the news that broke his daughter. He is dreadfully forgetful. But when even MacIntyre seems surprised by the hellish scene being shown on the screen (not a replay like Ed thought at first) ...well, that confirms the existence of a time loop and one that has apparently only trapped herself and Ein.

Once she realizes what is happening however... The why of it becomes rather obvious. The week cycle ends on the most horrible note possible. Therefore, that must change. She has to break the cycle of sorrow to end the loop of time. She has to secure a happily ever after ending for her former companions and herself.

Stealing a monoracer is their first act and it does not go well. Dying in a blaze of glory is Spike's style and is clearly not the answer.

She hadn't planned to try breaking the cycle with her own demise (and poor Ein's as he'd been plopped on her lap) but it at least assures her that she is important enough to the madness of this situation to have a sort of failsafe in place. Still, she does not plan on dying again.

Waking up to the first day of their repetitive week is a comfort after the terrifying ordeal of smashing into flaming pieces on the unforgiving surface of the Earth. She and Ein spend that week celebrating life and making the most of their time with her father and MacIntyre. It is a necessary reset after the abrupt end they narrowly avoided.

After that though... When the week starts over fresh...

She doesn't waste any of the days. It only takes a couple repeats to ascertain how to get to old man Doohan as expediently as possible. From there it is a thing of ease to convince the grizzled and grumpy mechanic to lend her a refurbished zipcraft. He seems equal parts amused and disbelieving at her tale, but he is practical and earnest when instructing her on how to pilot the craft. The fact that she is telling the truth about her needs is immaterial to him. All he cares about is the fact that one of Spike-person's friends requires a fast ship and needs to know how to fly it.

By the fourteenth round of the same week, she feels confident enough in her fledgling skills to actually take to the stars.

Ein has used the time Ed spends under Doohan's tutelage to devise a flight plan. He researches travel times and flight paths of other vessels traveling to and from Mars during the week and comes up with the best option for their departure from Earth, Gate access, and arrival to Mars. Somehow he's even managed to finagle his way into the priority listing so their ship is able to cut to the front of the line to save even more time.

Time. Ed realizes she is grateful for the time loop. It saves them the significant trouble and messy hassle of figuring out time travel and all the complicated and conflicting mathematics involved therein.

Though, quite frankly, she is becoming more and more confident that if anyone could devise a time machine it would be her dear sweet Ein-woof-woof.

Ein's hacking skills are a cut above Ed's own, a fact she has been aware of (and in awe of) since the incident with poor Rosny Spanngen. Watching the data dog sneak into well-protected websites and run amuck there is like being an apprentice watching a master at work. He correlates all the data, he syncs the various systems to run smooth and grant them continuous access. He orchestrates all the fine details that will be necessary for their success.

Once they nail that portion of their mission, the real job begins.

Tracking the Bebop is a breeze. Determining the course of events that led to the breaking news report is also not terribly difficult. It is hard to stop themselves from interfering though. The few times they try (unable to stop themselves) it makes matters much worse. It only takes a few attempts (and their own grisly deaths) before they decide they cannot save the women Spike sees die. They aren't even able to help against the Syndicate fighters who bring the Bebop crashing down. Eventually they manage to school themselves into being solely observers so they can sort out all the factors at play.

Following the trackers on Spike and Faye's ships was simple enough even if they can't jump into action to change how any of that turns out. Figuring out how to find reliable medical help is a bit more frustrating - at least until they realize Spike and Jet have recently utilized a doctor who might be bribable. Backtracking to that point of discovery is exceedingly tricky just because it is almost too far back in the week for them to reach Doohan, convince him of Ed's capability so he'll borrow them the zipcraft without requiring no-longer-necessary training runs, and then rush through the Gates even with their front-of-the-line fast pass.

But once they have that information - once they can put that vital ally into play on the gameboard... That is everything nearly sorted out.

And now it becomes a matter of timing things precisely right.

After all, the threat has to be neutralized before the hero can be saved.

They could try and try and try again, but the emotional reality of seeing Spike devastate the building and then shuffle off the mortal coil... That's too much. Witnessing that with their own eyes for the first time, well, their plan is waylaid for a solid week as Ed and Ein grieve again. The brutality of his assault on the syndicate headquarters is gruesome enough, but to then see what the news bulletin fails to capture... Spike's faltering steps down the broad staircase...

The news lady whose coverage of the horrific event enlightened them to the massacre hadn't known the details and so when this all began (how many rounds ago? Ed has lost track) ...they only knew they'd have to ride in as calvary. To realize it is going to take more than just showing up to fix things... well, it is heavy.

Neither Ed nor Ein want to repeat this portion more than necessary. Even knowing it's gonna come down to a matter of seconds... Too soon and they interrupt the fight. Too late and he bleeds out despite intervention.

Once they throw caution to the wind and leap into the fray, rushing the good doctor into the ruins of the penthouse, it is all a blur. Faye-Faye and Jet-person show up in the Hammerhead and lay waste to the remaining suits on the platform. Faye hastens over to help Doc until Jet can reach their side and then she is gone in a flash, descending into the smoke and flames to eradicate the rest of the survivors.

Jet's eyes are wide when he sees Ed and Ein here in all this awfulness but his attention is pulled back to Spike when Doc demands his assistance. There's no time for questions or answers anyway - Ed and Ein are too busy on Tomato trying to keep the ISSP and the media from showing up and throwing a wrench into the works.

It's fortunate that all the law enforcement and emergency vehicles have kill switches that can be activated by hacking into the proper programs. Still, it's a lot of intense work for a few minutes. And then, equally crucial, reprogramming a heli-ambulance to navigate itself over to the roof sans operator...

All too soon (though the way she is shaking from adrenaline and anxiety makes it feel as if this last day has taken YEARS) they are clambering into the various zipcraft and departing at top speed from the scene of carnage. Rendezvous back on the Bebop and then Ed is too overcome by emotion and stress to do anything other than collapse into Jet's welcoming arms, blood soaked as they are.

She and Ein are home. They've done their best.

It's only when she wakes up to Ein's gentle tongue licking her cheek... Waking up stretched out on a familiar couch under the slow rotation of a familiar ceiling fan... Hearing voices that ease her mind and soothe her heart...

It's only then that she lets herself sob once more. A salty deluge of tears of relief. The warm sideways embrace of Faye as the older woman drops onto the couch beside her. The proud look in Jet's eyes as he takes the seat across from them. And then she notices Ein has moved to sit patiently at the foot of the ambulance stretcher that is set up in the open space across the table from the stairs into the living room, where Spike is unconscious but - judging from the calm beeps of the machines Doc is tending to - truly alive.