Febuwhumpday13 - Tumblr Posts

Going Nowhere

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Febuwhump Prompt - Won't Regain Consciousness

Prompt - ‘I thought I'd lost you.’

Despite the early morning, the sun was beating down causing sweat to bead on your forehead. You wiped at it with your arm as you headed down to where the rest of the groups were gathered, a map spread out in front of them as they pulled another day of searching for Sophia.

“I’m gonna borrow a horse,” You heard Daryl say to Rick, pointing at something on the map, “head up to this ridge there, gives me as good a view as any to spot her.”

Rick hummed as he glanced at the map, nodding as his fingers traced it.

“Looks good to me.” He said.

“Maybe you’ll see your chupacabra up there too.” You heard T-Dog laugh as you came to a stop next to Daryl and nudged him gently.

“You saw a chupacabra?” You asked over Rick who repeated the word, smiling as Daryl grunted.

“You’ve never heard the story? Course not,” Dale answered his own question with a shake of his head, “The first night in camp, we’re all together, Daryl tells us the whole thing reminds him of the time he went squirrel hunting and saw a chupacabra.”

“Cool,” You grinned as Jimmy laughed, Daryl turning to the kid with a glare.

“Somethin’ funny to you?” He snapped and Jimmy just smiled.

“You believe in bloodsucking dogs?”

“You believe in dead people walkin’ around?” You snorted and Rick rolled his eyes, though there was a fond smile on his face as he turned back to the map.

“Y/N, you can head down-” He began pointing somewhere to the left off the map but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“I’m going with Daryl.” You told him, leaving no room for argument, though Daryl glared at you half heartedly.

“Like hell you are.” He said, causing you to grin at him, watching as he shook his head at you.

“Come on, you want me out there on my own?” You asked, watching as the glare fell from his face and he grumbled under his breath about how he should have left you to the walkers so he could have a goddamn minute to himself but still he nodded and gestured for you to follow him to the stables.

Daryl gave you a hand as you struggled to climb onto the horse but eventually you were both on, your arms wrapping tightly around Daryl’s waist, burying your face in his back as the horse took off in a run.

It didn’t take too long before you were nearly at the area Daryl wanted to scope out, him stopping a few times along the way to shoot some squirrels, taking great delight in the way you grimaced each time he did.

“Do you have to do that?” You asked him as the horse slowed down.

“Do ya want to eat?” He shot back, smirking over his shoulder as you looked at the dead squirrels with a frown.

The horse kept walking as you and Daryl looked around from atop of it, Daryl searching for any hint of tracks whereas you weren’t quite as skilled as him and looked for more obvious clues but looked back to Daryl as he brought the horse to a halt.

“Stay here a second,” Daryl told you as he climbed off the horse and made his way down to the lake, looking around at something you couldn’t see before he bent down, you raising an eyebrow as you strained to try and see what he had found.

“S’her doll.” He told you as he made his way back onto the horse, holding the doll in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world and right now it probably was. “Let’s keep looking.”

The horse trotted on for a while longer as the two of you kept your eyes peeled before you were letting out a yell of shock as the horse reared up on it’s back legs and threw both you and Daryl off it.

You felt your head connect with a tree painfully hard, your eyes falling shut on their own accord and though you struggled to, you couldn’t bring yourself to open them, letting out a pained groan as you passed out.

Eventually you blinked awake, not sure how much time had passed but you glanced around, cursing yourself for passing out right where a walker could have gotten to you but then you tensed as you looked around, noticing both Daryl and the horse were missing.

“Daryl,” You called softly out, not wanting to be too loud in fear of attracting walkers, especially when Daryl wasn’t around to save you at the last second.

You felt fear flood through your system as you forced yourself up, leaning against the tree in an attempt to stop the world from spinning before you shakily took a step forward, wishing like hell you’d let Daryl teach you how to track because you were clueless right now as you stood in the woods without a single idea where to go.

You checked the entire area and saw no sign of the man and with a shaky hand you took your knife from your boot and started going in the direction you were heading, hoping Daryl had had the same idea and he just hadn’t been able to get back to you.

He was going to be fine, you forced yourself to think, trying desperately to shove the fear away and remember everything the missing man had taught you should you ever get separated.

You remembered laughing when he had told you that, remembered telling him you’d never get separated because you’d stick to him like glue, you remembered the eye roll you got for the comment but there was a softness to it. After months of working to break down Daryl’s walls, getting him to believe somebody could care about him, somebody could trust him, the two of you had actually become rather close and if anybody was looking for one of you they just had to find the other.

You felt sick as you thought of a life without Daryl and pushed the thought out of your head, blinking away the tears knowing that the man would smack you upside the head if he could see you now.

Daryl, himself, was struggling with his own feelings, cursing himself as he fell down the cliff he’d managed to get half way up, crying as the arrow in his side shifted painfully. Listening to Merle as he badgered on and on at him.

“I liked it better when you was missin’.” Daryl muttered as he pulled himself up another rock, grabbing hold of a branch to steady himself, looking down at how far he’d climbed again before glancing back up at Merle who waited at the top.

“Look at you, baby brother,” Merle laughed, “Bleedin’ from your side and ya still thinkin’ about that girly you left back there.”

“You’d best shut the hell up.” Daryl snarled, groaning as he climbed again.

“You gotta crush on the pretty lady, Darlylina?” He continued laughing and Daryl felt a surge of anger run through him, never liking when Merle spoke about you, cursing himself as he thought about you alone in the woods because of that damn horse. “She don’t care about you, hell nobody does. Ain’t nobody give a shit about you, baby brother, nobody but me.”

“Like to see you say that t’her face.” Daryl chuckled breathlessly, imagining your reaction to those words.

“Don’t think I’ll get the chance, I’m afraid,” Merle said, leaning further down as he lowered his voice, “Girls weak, she’s probably dead already.”

Those were the words Daryl needed to hear as he pulled himself up, blindly reaching for Merle as he struggled to get his body safely onto the flat bit of land, pictures of your lifeless body flashing through his mind, skin torn off as walkers fed on you.

You jumped as you heard a rustle to your side, snapping around in that direction with your knife raised only to let out a huff of relief as you saw the borrowed horse waiting in the bushes.

“S’alright, I’m not gonna hurt you,” You murmured gently, raising your hands non threateningly and pausing as the horse took a step back, “It’s ok, we’re good, take your time,” You told it, reaching one hand forward and waiting until the horse placed its head into it.

“Good job,” You praised as you brushed your fingers along her head. “No chance you know where Daryl is, huh? No? Suppose we better go save him for once then.” You smiled as you grabbed the reins and led the horse in a random direction, not quite ready to get back on it just yet.

You heard a noise in the distance, it sounded like somebody was talking faintly and you hoped like hell it was Daryl and not some random strangers ready to ambush you. You were only just about able to kill the walkers, you didn’t know what you’d do if you came across hostile people.

As you got closer you heard groaning and panting and slowed your steps, careful not to step on any twigs that would give you away as you scanned the area, not seeing where the noise was coming from until two arms appeared over the edge of a cliff and you watched Daryl struggled to pull himself up.

You quickly let go off the horse and made your way over to him, hoping he still had some strength in him because no way were you going to be able to carry him up on your own.

“Daryl,” you gasped, falling onto your knees and grabbing his arms, he let you grab onto him and used you to pull himself up, falling onto the ground with a groan and holding the arrow wound.

Your eyes immediately fell to the wound and you looked at him with wide eyes.

“What happened?” You asked, helping him sit up.

“Damn horse threw me off a cliff, s’what happened.” He groaned, taking a second to catch his breath before he turned to you, looking you up and down as he inspected you for cuts or bites. “What ‘bout you, you’re ok?”

“Oh I’m fine, me and nature are at one with each other now and just in case we’re counting, I totally saved your arse.” You grinned at him, hoping to relieve some of the tension in his shoulders.

And it worked, you watched as he relaxed upon seeing you were really ok before he let out a scoff.

“Saved my arse,” He grumbled before gesturing for you to help him up, “I pulled myself up that damn cliff but you missed it, too busy becomin’ one with nature.”

“Hey, you’re always telling me I need to!” You laughed as you pulled him up.

“No more complain’ about sleepin’ outside then, or eating squirrels?” He asked, thankful to see the damn horse as there was no way he could have walked back to the farm.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” You said, smiling at him as he helped you onto the horse before he climbed on himself with a wince, “more like less complaining when we have to walk through them.”

“I’ll take it.” He murmured, his lips tilting up into a smile as you wrapped your arms around him, weary of the wound but also not trusting the horse.

“So what’s with the ear necklace?” You asked as Daryl jumped off the horse and handed you the reins, you didn’t want to take the horse back to the stables alone but Daryl insisted.

“I dealt with walkers while you were napping.” He smirked at you causing you to roll your eyes as you knew he wouldn’t let you forget passing out for a while.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t forget I saved your arse.” You called as he made his way up to the farm and you continued through the woods to get to the stables.

As you were putting the horse back into her pen you heard a gunshot ring out and felt your blood run cold as you quickly locked the startled horse in and ran out as fast as you could over to where your group had set up camp, seeing most of the men already in the distance.

Your heart stopped as you saw where they were, knowing Daryl would come back in that way.

“Lori,” You yelled, causing her to turn around, “what happened?”

“I don’t know, Andrea shot at a walker but I don’t-” She began but you cut her off with a curse and took off running with tears in your eyes.

“Y/N!” She called but you didn’t stop to look back, just kept running until you were with Rick, Shane and T-dog and coming to a sudden halt as you saw Daryl on the floor, a sob leaving you as you fell to your knees and shook him.

“Wake up, c’mon Daryl, please,” Rick pulled you away from him, gently pushing you into Glenn’s arms where you turned and sobbed into his chest as Shane and Rick picked his limp body up.

“She just skimmed his head,” Rick told you, causing you to let out another sob, “He’ll be fine, he’s just passed out.”

“Hey guys,” You all turned to look at T-Dog who held the doll Daryl had found. “Isn’t this Sophia’s?”

Everybody looked at you and you nodded.

“Can you please just get him some help?” You managed to ask and you all made your way up to the house, Hershel already waiting for you at the door.

You tried to go into the bedroom with Daryl but Hershel stopped you with a hand on your shoulder and a sympathetic smile.

“I need space to work, I’ll call you when I’m finished.” He promised and nodded to Rick who gently wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you downstairs to where most of the group were.

“Is he gonna be ok?” Maggie asked, looking at your pale face and the tears falling down your cheeks.

“He should be fine.” Rick answered and led you over to the sofa, watching sadly as you let yourself be sat down next to Glenn without a word, looking more lost than he’d ever seen you before.

“Did you find anything about Sophia?” Carol asked after a few moments of silence and you looked up at her in disbelief as your lower lip quivered.

“Seriously, he’s just been shot.” You managed but shook your head. “He found a doll.” Was all you said before standing up and heading out onto the porch alone, tears still falling down your face, missing the way Carol went to follow you but was stopped by Rick’s hand.

You didn't know just how long you stood outside for before Rick came to join you, sitting down next to you on the floor with your backs to the wall. Hershel had told him that whilst Daryl was stable he was still out cold and asked him what he wanted to do about you.

Rick had told him to leave it to him, though he hadn’t known you for long, it had taken only five minutes of observing you and Daryl to see how close you were, watching as the man always positioned you behind him, putting himself between you and any threat, watched as you followed him around, your smiley, cheerful attitude a stark comparison to his eye rollls and grumbled words.

It was obvious that in the world before you and Daryl would never have crossed paths but he was glad you’d found each other.

“Is he ok?” You asked quietly when Rick hadn’t said anything for a few moments.

“Hershel said he’s stable.” Rick said, voice as soft as yours as you watched the sky turn pink as the sunset.

“Can I see him?” In all the time you’d known Daryl he had never been hurt before, sure he’d had a couple of cuts and bruises but nothing more than that.

Now he was laying in the house somewhere because he had been shot in the head.

“Y/N,” Rick sighed, causing you to smile in an attempt to hold back more tears.

“You said he was stable.” You forced out.

“He is,” Rick assured, “but he’s not waking up.”

“What?” You whimpered, finally turning to face Rick who smiled sadly at your watery eyes.

“Hershel said that his body is exhausted, whatever happened out there took a lot of his energy and the gunshot didn’t help.”

You scrunched your eyes shut as Rick pulled you against his chest, his hand coming up to cup the back off your head and he held you close and let you sob against him.

You don’t know how long you cried but eventually you pulled away from him and wiped at your cheeks.

“Y/N-“ Rick began but you cut him off with a shake of your head before you stood up and headed silently into the house.

You stood in the doorway to the bedroom Daryl had been placed in, barely choking down a sob as you looked at Daryl who lay pale and still in the bed, a bandage covering the gunshot wound and a blanket covering his body.

It was a long few moments before you let yourself enter the room, carefully taking a seat on the bed, making sure you were on his uninjured side.

It was strange seeing Daryl like this and you blinked hard against the tears, as you took his hand gently in yours, brushing your thumb against the skin. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to find some words but having none.

You weren’t aware of time passing, weren’t aware of anything outside of the room. You vaguely recalled somebody coming into the room, softly touching your shoulder as they left a plate on the nightstand for you but you didn’t acknowledge it, just focused on the rise and fall of Daryl’s chest, waiting for a sign that he was ok.

You felt exhaustion pull heavily at your eyes and you found it harder and harder to stay awake but knew you couldn’t leave Daryl, you just couldn’t do it. You carefully moved so you were laying down on the side of the bed, keeping space between you as you did.

“Wake up.” You pleaded softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Four days had passed by much the same way with you laying next to Daryl, watching closely as you waited for any sign of life but none came. People came in and out of the room, trying to get you to eat something and stay hydrated but you didn’t pay them any attention and didn’t notice yourself get weaker as each day passed, your focus purely on Daryl.

Maggie leaned against the door frame, smiling sadly in at you as she watched you hold Daryl’s hand, murmuring soft words she couldn’t hear.

“How’s he doin’?” She asked softly as she entered the room, making her way over to the chair at the side of the bed.

“Same as before,” You told her and she winced at how dry your voice sounded.

“You gotta drink something, Y/N.” She told you, holding a glass of water in your direction but you made no move for it, eyes locked on yours and Daryl’s entwined fingers. She suppressed a sigh and tried a new tactic, “How long have y’all been together?”

She watched as your eyebrows knitted together as confusion spread across your face causing her to tilt her head questioningly as you finally looked away from the unconscious man.

“What?” You asked, “We’re not together.”

Maggie felt her eyes widen in shock as she looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course you are.” Maggie said like it was the most obvious fact in the world and you let out a huff of laughter as you shook your head.

“Daryl doesn’t like me like that, hell it took me long enough to get him to like me like this.” You smiled, trying to clear your throat but wincing in pain. Maggie held the water out to you again and you took it with a shaky hand, not letting go of Daryl’s with the other.

“Y/N, I’ve never, never, seen two people look at each other the way you and Daryl do. That man’d do anything for you without a single thought to himself and I’ve seen you follow him blindly, trusting his every move.” She told you with a smile, watching as you frowned and looked down at your joined hands again. “You love him, right?”

Moments passed as you thought over Maggie’s question, not that you needed to think about it, you already knew the answer. Of course you loved Daryl, you’d never met anybody like him before. Nobody, not even before the world ended, made you feel anything close to how Daryl Dixon made you feel and you had never felt this scared over the thought of losing somebody before, everytime you thought about all the ways things could go wrong, Daryl dying had never seemed like a possibility before.

You nodded slowly, looking back up to Maggie with wide eyes causing her to smile softly at you.

“Yeah, I do.” You confessed aloud for the first time.

“You should tell him,” She said, watching as you shook your head, “He feels the same about you, trust me.”

And with that she stood up, pausing in the doorway to see you’d already turned back to Daryl.

“Hey Y/N,” She said, watching you glance back at her with a soft hum, “Make sure you eat.”

“How are they?” Andrea asked as Maggie made her way down stairs.

“They’re going t’be just fine.” She told her with a smile on her face.

Two more days passed before Daryl awoke with a groan, scrunching his eyes closed before prying them open. Sunlight flooded into the room with a soft, golden glow as his eyes flickered down to you fast asleep on his chest, hand fisting his shirt as you did.

He smiled down at you before his eyes blinked shut again and he fell back to sleep, exhausted despite being out cold for nearly a week.

The next time Daryl opened his eyes, the room was brighter and you were still asleep. He savoured the feeling of you pressed against his chest as he lifted his arm and brought his hand up to your hair, running his fingers through it and smiling as you cuddled closer into him, mumbling something he couldn’t make out before humming happily into his chest.

He saw the exact moment you realised he was awake, feeling as you tensed against him before you shot up of his chest and looked down at him with wide, watery eyes before a shaky smile spread across your face as you flung yourself back down into his chest, hugging him tightly whilst being mindful of his injuries.

Daryl froze for a second before he let his arms wrap around you, his face buried in your hair as he held you close, listening as you sniffed back tears.

“I’m so glad you’re awake.” You mumbled into his chest.

“Sorry, I scared ya.” He whispered, tightening his hold on you and the two of you were more than content to lay in each other’s arms until you were pulling back far enough to look up at him.

“You okay? You need me to get Hershel?” You asked, your eyes flickering over to the gunshot wound on his head.

“M’alright,” He told you honestly because sure the wound ached but he didn’t want you leaving his arms any time soon.

You nodded and leaned back into his chest, listening to the comforting beat of his heart and relaxing for the first time in days.

It wasn’t long after that when Hershel checked in and gave Daryl the all clear, his wounds were healing nicely and he was told to keep hydrated and take it easy, advice you knew you’d have to force the man to listen to.

Hershel had offered to let Daryl stay in the bedroom as long as he needed but Daryl just shrugged him off, thanking him before he led you down to where the camp was set up, greeting everyone and assuring them he was fine before he headed towards his tent, you following closely behind.

“Ya okay?” Daryl asked softly as the two of you lay in the tent, Daryl’s arm around your shoulder as he held you close.

You let the question hang in the air for a few moments, Maggie’s words heavy in your mind. You wanted to tell Daryl how you felt but you didn’t want to ruin what you had with him now, the bond you two had was rare, it was something few people had and you’d be damned if you were going to screw it up.

But at the same time the only thoughts you’d had the last few days had been about Daryl’s dead body and it hurt you more than you thought anything ever could. You didn’t want to live with regrets, didn’t want to waste the time you had with him.

As you opened your mouth to say something you were cut off as the flap off the tent was pulled back and Andrea walked in with a guilty expression.

“I feel like shit.” She said, pausing in the entryway.

“Yeah,” Daryl huffed, “You and me both.”

Andrea watched as Daryl smiled and you glared, such a strong contrast to how the two of you usually were, usually Daryl was the one who glared and grumbled and you were the one always smiling and friendly.

“I really am sorry,” She told him, “If there’s anything I can do-”

“Nah, you were protectin’ the group,” Daryl told her, squeezing your shoulder as he did, causing you to look away from Andrea and bury your head in his chest. Andrea smiled and turned to leave, stopping when Daryl called her name, “Shoot me again, best pray I’m dead.”

“You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours, huh?” He asked once she was gone and you shook your head, losing any bravery you had only minutes before. “C’mon, Y/N/N, ya can tell me anythin’, you know that.”

He was right you did know that but you didn’t know how to come out and say it - end of the world and you still felt like a kid with their first crush.

Daryl waited in silence, knowing you’d cave eventually and had to fight back a smile as you finally started talking after five minutes of silence passed.

“I thought I’d lost you,” You told him quietly and he stayed silent, knowing that if he interrupted you now you wouldn’t start again, “I thought I lost you and all I could think was he doesn’t know how I feel, he’s going to die not knowing I loved him more than anybody. Watching you in that bed, seeing you like that…I’ve never been more scared in my whole life, not when the dead started walking, not when I was surrounded in the woods alone, nothing has ever scared me more.”

“You love me?” Daryl asked softly, eyes widening as he pushed you away far enough so he could look down at you, hating the fear in your eyes as you nodded at him.

“Yeah, I do.” You forced out softly, feeling like your throat was going to close up any minute as you couldn’t read Daryl’s face.

Daryl let the words sink in, working through the shock that somebody as perfect as you could love a nobody like him. Thinking back to all those times you looked at him like he hung the damn stars in the sky. He’d known how he felt about you for months but was never brave enough to say it, even at the end of civilization you two were still from completely different worlds and he knew you could never feel the same way.

Yet here you were confessing your feelings to him and he felt his heart beat speed up as a smile finally spread across his face, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your cheekbone before he leaned down, slowly and pressed his lips to yours.

It was the best thing you’d ever felt, that soft brush of his lips against your own as both of you nervously kissed each other, slowly gaining more confidence but the kiss stayed soft and slow until you were pulling away, foreheads pressing together as you looked at Daryl with the softest, most adoring expression he’d ever seen and didn’t feel even a little bit worthy of.

“I love you too,” He whispered the confession before leaning close to peck your lips. “Ain’t ever gotta worry ‘bout losing me, I ain’t going nowhere.” He promised as he pulled you into his arms, feeling you smile into his chest.

There wasn’t any chance in hell Daryl was ever going to leave you, he’d kill a thousand walkers, kill any person who even looked at you funny, to make sure the two of you lived a long, happy life together.

__________

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Febuwhump Day 13: Forced to Hurt a Loved One

Fandom: Star Wars

Timeline: The Bad Batch

Simple supply runs could never be simple. Ever since the empire had found out they were alive it seemed all they did was run. The worst part was having to look out for Crosshair's precise shots. 

    The city was beautiful; the large buildings loomed over the small people, the sunset covered in gorgeous reds, pinks, purples, and oranges. The clouds reflected the colors perfectly. The street was busy with a variety of different people walking about their business.

    Hunter heard the sniper running on the roofs as the five of them ran on the pavement below. Crosshair wouldn't shoot them unless he had a good shot. If he shot a civilian he'd be a murderer, not that he wasn't already but still.

The chase was nearing the end of the city limits. A small clearing was in front of them. If they entered that clearing none of them would ever leave it.

    "Any ideas Hunter?" Echo ran beside him.

    "We need to stay in the city" he stared. "He's gotta come down here before we can do much against him. He'll get frustrated, just give it time."

    It didn't take long before Crosshair proved Hunter right. He knew what his targets were doing. He lived with them for most of his life so he knew how they thought. He'd play into their game and he would win. He had to.

    The batch came to a stop when Hunter confirmed Crosshair had left the roof. "Alright, split up. Everyone get to the Marauder, I'll try to get Crosshair off our tail." The others nodded. Tech and Omega stayed together while the other two went off on their own.

    The plan didn't work. Echo ended up being Crosshair's prey first. The two raced through the streets. Hunter tried to find Crosshair. He knew Echo could handle himself but something didn't feel right.

    Turning the corner Echo relieved it was a dead end. He pulled his blaster but it was quickly shot out of his hand. He looked down at it briefly then back to Crosshair. "I'll give you one chance Echo, come back with me or die."

    The cyborg stared at Crosshair. No matter what he wouldn't join the empire. He hated it with every fiber of his being, it would go against everything he believed in. He'd have to stall. One of his siblings had to be close right?

    "What's so great about the empire?" Echo knew that he was in dangerous territory by asking but he was already in danger so did that really matter. Maybe he could help Crosshair see a little clearer.

    Crosshair gave no answer. He crept forward. Hunter turned the corner. He made no sudden movements. Neither knew he was there. He heard the movement of the guns trigger. It wasn't fast. It was like Crosshair was hesitant to kill his brother. Sure Echo and Crosshair hadn't been together for all that long but with Echo it was impossible to dislike him. He grew on everyone quickly.

    Hunter knew the sound right before the gun would go off. He'd heard it too many times, the slight sound the trigger made as it inched back that no one else would hear. This time a shot wouldn't follow, at least not from his gun.

    Hunter shot Crosshair in the left shoulder. He hated it but he had to. Shooting the man he grew up with, his brother hurt him deeply. Corsshair leaving had hurt him deeply. There was no time to change the setting to stun. Echo would've died and Hunter would just have to live with his decision.

    Crosshair fell to the ground with a yelp. Echo ran up and slid the gun away from the imperial. Crosshair sat up and looked at Hunter. A mix of physical and mental pain was reflected on his face.

    Hunter ran over to his brother and kneeled down. He wasn't sure how to help him or if Crosshair would even let him but he had to try. Echo seemed to be on the same page.

    "Get away from me" Crosshair hissed. Echo moved, Hunter didn't.

    "No."

    "You shot me." The man had a fair point.

    "I had too. You didn't leave me a choice." Frustration and concern laced Hunter's voice. 

    The three heard other clones approaching their location. "Hunter we gotta go." Echo stood behind his brother.

    Hunter sighed and got up. He started walking the exit of the alley. He stopped and looked back, trying to decide what to do. Crosshair looked angry. Despite everything he nodded, signaling for Hunter to leave.

    Hunter nodded and left. With everyone now on the Marauder they left the planet, the mission a success.

    Hunter got lost in his thoughts. They'd left Crosshair behind again. He felt terrible. His brother would never see him the same. He had every right to hate him. He had to shoot him and he just hoped Crosshair would see it that way eventually.

It had started out as a nice date, but then everything went wrong, and MJ wasn’t quite sure what to do when Peter wouldn’t wake up. 

TW: explosions, shrapnel, major character injury, won't regain consciousness

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

@febuwhump

Martyr

I'm strong on the surface, Not all the way through. I've never been perfect, But neither have you. - Leave Out All the Rest [Linkin Park] Febuwhump Day 13: "Hidden Injury" | Fandom: Overwatch (Pre-Fall) | Angela / Gabriel

AO3 | FF.net | Works

“Mercy, come in.” Angela blinked, glancing around. What—? She found herself draped uncomfortably over broken concrete and wood; it appeared she had landed on what remained of a wall or building - but why would she be in any such place? Right. She was in Germany, with a strike team. There had been an explosion that had taken them all unaware. Just like that, she was moving. There would be injured to tend to - both on her strike team and for any innocents caught in the crossfire of this terrorist attack. She felt the Valkyrie suit humming, warm against her skin; distantly, Angela knew that meant she was injured - but, since she couldn’t see any blood, Angela dismissed it as unimportant. “Mercy! Do you copy?” The voice called again, this time more worried. She was unsurprised at the worry; she was the medic and the Medical Director, after all. “I copy,” she replied, one hand lifting to her ear while the other gripped her staff firmly. Angela moved her hand, flipping a small switch on the halo that would engage her HUD. It sparked to life, allowing her to see through the hazy dust that floated around her. Without hesitation, she moved towards the first individual she could see. She found the man, blood pouring from a gash in his side, and pointed her staff. After a moment, Angela realized that the staff wasn’t operating properly - it must have been broken in the explosion. She set the staff aside with a disgusted sigh before kneeling in the ruins to manually care for him.

---

Though she had been home for nearly an hour, had been out of the rubble for longer, she still wore the Valkyrie suit breastplate. Angela’s wings and halo, more of a hindrance than anything within the carrier's tight quarters, had long since been stripped away. After that, there had been no time – and no reason – to remove the breastplate. After clearing the site of all injured, her team had rushed to their carrier - one of their own was severely injured, far worse than what Angela could repair manually in the field. She’d kept him alive on the carrier and had followed him all the way into the operating room to finish the job. About three-quarters of the way through the surgery, her Valkyrie suit had powered down; the wave of agony had caused her hands to momentarily pause, but before anyone could notice or comment, she had shoved it away. There would be time for that later, once her agent wasn’t bleeding out. Now, her agent was resting in a private room; she had left the operating room with murmured excuses of changing and making her reports. Then, Angela went to her office, not allowing a single sign of her pain to show on her face or in her stride. It was only once she was hidden away inside, door locked behind her, that Angela allowed herself to let down her protective walls. It was stupid; she knew that. All she had to do was say something to one of her staff and they would have helped her - but she loathed appearing weak, even after all these years. She knew there was no reason for it, knew no one would think poorly of her, and yet she had hidden herself away anyway. Angela stripped off the breastplate with shaking hands before setting it aside on her couch, not bothering to walk the additional ten feet to its normal stand. Her boots were kicked off, landing haphazardly on the surrounding floor. Then, she was contorting herself as she reached for the zipper on the catsuit; it hurt, making her gasp and bringing tears to her eyes, but she managed it. Panting, she stripped it off wearily before looking herself over. There were no lacerations or gashes, which she already knew. Instead, she found herself mottled with purple-black bruises; from what Angela could tell, it was worse on her back - but she had no mirror, so it was hard to compare the bruising on her front to what was on her back. Later, once the infirmary was - mostly - empty and no one else was around, she would sneak - as if she weren’t the Director or the one who had developed it, personally - a healing stream away to take care of herself. It would only be a few hours; she could manage a few bruises that long. Angela had just finished pulling a set of scrubs - she always had an extra set in her office, just in case - when the doorknob rattled. “Angela?” Her heart tripped; she hadn’t expected to see him today. He was supposed to be in Rome like he usually was. Angela briefly considered pretending she wasn’t in her office, that she was somewhere else in the building - but she already didn’t get to see him as often as she’d like. As she made her way back across the office, she shored up her walls to hide her pain. “Gabriel,” Angela greeted warmly as she opened the door. “I heard about the explosion,” he said, brushing against her as he made his way inside the office. “Are you alright?” Angela shut the door, hiding them away from prying eyes, before turning to look up at him. “Of course I am,” Angela assured him; a few bruises weren’t life-threatening, after all. She knew that he would disagree with her assessment - but he was rather biased when it came to her health. Angela was certain he would consider a paper cut to be too much injury for her; the mottled black spread across her back would definitely worry him, even if there was no reason for his concern. Gabriel closed the distance between them then, wrapping her in a warm embrace that normally was comforting but currently was agonizing. Angela forced herself to relax into him anyway, forced her arms not to tremble as they lifted to wrap around his waist - but he must have noticed something was amiss, because he pulled back to look down at her. “What’s wrong?” Angela shook her head, frowning slightly when the motion made her dizzy. “I am just sore, that’s all.” It wasn’t a lie; her body ached fiercely, but it was nothing to be concerned about - though the dizziness wasn’t the greatest of signs. “Angela,” he rumbled, clearly not believing her, “you’re hurt, aren’t you?” She worried her lip and glanced down with a resigned nod. “Let me see.” Angela hesitated; even with him - especially with him - she wanted to appear strong, capable. He already worried enough about her as it was. Sighing, Angela reached for the hem of her top. Her body rebelled, aching and angry, as she moved to pull it up for him to see the bruising. Gabriel clearly noticed the pain she was in, because before she’d even managed to get it halfway up, his hands were there and taking over for her. Then she was standing there, stripped to the waist aside from her bra, arms crossed and face downcast as he looked her over. “Angela,” he sighed, disappointment and worry coloring his voice; despite the pain, her shoulders hunched and she ducked her head. Angela hated that she had let him down again. He moved, stepping around her to look at her back; his sharp intake of breath confirmed that it was worse there than on her front. “This isn’t - Angela, this isn’t okay.” He wasn’t shouting at her, but the words echoed in her ears as if he had. She jumped, wincing, as he lightly touched her back; the touch disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and then he was standing in front of her again. Angela didn’t need to look up to know that Gabriel was frowning down at her, worry in his eyes as he tried to figure out what to do with her, again. “I was going to take care of it in a few hours,” she murmured to the floor. “I didn’t want to worry you.” She hadn’t expected him to be here to worry about her. Angela could have easily hidden this from him over their communicators, and no one else would have gotten close enough to notice her discomfort. “I know,” Gabriel sighed. And he did know - she had practically bared her soul to him, after all. He knew her flaws and had seen all of her ugly, weak parts and still found her worthy of his attention. Even if she did make him worry like he was now. “Come on; let’s get you dressed, and we’ll take care of it.” She didn’t particularly want to do that - but Angela knew that he would just carry her to the infirmary if she refused. Instead, she allowed him to help her back into her shirt and followed him out of the office. In the hall, she forced herself to walk normally again - no one, except perhaps Gabriel, would notice there was anything amiss. Halfway to the infirmary, she paused, one hand grabbing at his bicep as she steadied herself. “Angela?” Gabriel’s voice echoed strangely in her ears again, and she closed herself as her vision swam. Angela took a deep breath and opened her eyes, releasing his arm. “Sorry. I am alright.” It was obvious to her that he was completely unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue; instead, he kept pace next to her as they went to the infirmary. Once inside, he called Gloria - the only doctor whose name he knew beside Angela’s - as he bullied Angela onto one of the triage beds. “She’s hurt,” Gabriel explained to the redheaded doctor. “I’d appreciate it if you’d look her over.” Gloria nodded before shooing him away and pulling the curtains closed. Once Angela was stripped again, Gloria tsk’d. “You should have said something, doctor.” Gloria chided. “I will be right back with the healing stream, and then you will be as good as new.”

---

It was almost thirty minutes later when she walked out of the infirmary, feeling a million times better. That it had taken so long meant that the damage had been worse than some bruising - which Gabriel had been quick to point out as they entered the elevator that would take them up to her rooms. “It was foolish, I know.” Angela agreed, though they both knew it wouldn’t change how she would act in the future. Her pain was secondary compared to everything else - to include her pride. If she wasn’t so worried about appearances, about being strong, she wouldn’t have left her wounds untended. “Reckless, you mean.” Gabriel corrected as they stepped out of the elevator. It wasn’t long before they were in her rooms and his arms were around her, holding her tightly as he pressed his face into her hair. “I wish you would take better care of yourself, cariño.” He murmured. “You’re not invincible, even if that suit of yours makes you feel that way.” Angela pressed herself against him, apologizing wordlessly because she couldn’t say the words aloud; apologizing for something she would continue to do in the future felt too much like a lie. “I will try to do better,” Angela said instead, which really meant nothing at all and they both knew it – but it was the best she could offer. She would continue to throw herself into harm's way, to ignore her wounds, because that was who she was and what she did. Angela was nothing if not reckless when it came to the safety and protection of their agents. He sighed, a big heaving motion that told her he was unhappy but resigned to the fact that there was nothing to be done about it; they had gone through this song and dance far too many times, after all. Instead, he pulled back to look down at her; in his eyes, she could see his worry and love - but no disappointment, for which she was grateful. The worry she could handle, but his disappointment was always crushing. Then, his hand was cupping her chin, tilting her head back as he captured her lips with his own - and then there was no need for words at all.

I'm trying out this prompt thing. I know, I know, I should be working on Forged - it'll be done [eventually] but my brain just doesn't want to write it.

@febuwhump prompt: "You weren't supposed to get hurt."

***

Spike was close-lipped for the entire arduous walk from Doc's office to the wharf where the Bebop was anchored. Jet had done just about all the talking - and unnecessary threatening - at Doc's. He wondered at his own inability to shut up. Was it residual adrenaline from the shoot out prompting him to speak up? Was it a bone-deep fear of how everything seemed to be unraveling since the girls left? Was the silence somehow more uncomfortable than usual?

The silence did feel different. It used to carry an essence of stress, standard worries over funds and finding work, but overall it had been an easy-going sort of quiet that engulfed the ship. Even after Faye and Ed and Ein came on board, the ship was not magically full of conversation and sound even if there was more chatter than before.

The silence that had consumed the vessel after they left Earth... that had the weight of misery on it. Disconsolate, they had fled the unnatural quiet to nurse their bad moods at the bar. It had almost felt like old times, before the others, even when the place started getting shot up. Hell, that brought back a slew of memories from the misadventures he and Spike had had when they were merely a duo.

Until he caught a bullet in his thigh.

Was he getting too old for this shit? Sure, he'd been shot before but this... this felt more ominous than before which was really saying something. He hadn't had all the information back when he lost his arm and he didn't exactly have much more to go on with the current bullshit hitting the fan but it had a very dark vibe. Like a python was slowly curling around their airway, choking them into submission.

This was the type of thing that required a response. If they didn't lash out at their attackers then their enemies would continue to hit them until they were dead. Simple as that.

Spike's past had reared its ugly head and would not be deterred this time.

They could still flee, of course. Always a chance they might be able to get far enough away and stay under the radar to avoid being hunted down. Not likely, odds of success with that plan were atrocious. But... well...

Every step sent agony coursing up his leg, radiating along his spine, lodging in his skull like the bullet had dug into his brain instead of the fleshy meat of his thigh. He'd lucked out in that it hadn't hit any arteries. And that Doc had an office so close to where the action went down. Small wonder, that. Doc had been one of Spike's contacts and that certainly meant there was some shared syndicate connection between the pair of them.

By the time they got through the ship and to the living room, Jet was covered in a sheen of perspiration. Spike, tucked underneath his metal arm and carrying most of Jet's weight, began to turn them towards the hall leading to the sleeping quarters but Jet paused.

"Here. Far enough. Get me to the couch." Jet managed through clenched teeth. Not often that he and Spike traded places and roles like this. The couch was Spike's domain, patching up wounds was Jet's. Maybe the discrepancy was why Spike hadn't said shit.

Once he was settled into a sitting position on the couch, Jet cleared his throat and gave his full attention to his partner. "All right, look here-"

"You weren't supposed to get hurt." Spike interrupted. He was still standing next to the couch but he wasn't looking at Jet. His gaze was fixed on some point off in the distance, not seeing the grated stairs he was facing.

"I'd rather it hadn't happened myself," Jet admitted readily. "But that's just how it shakes out sometimes."

Spike continued to stare off, jaw tight.

"I've dealt with gunshot wounds before, bud." Jet reminded him. "This one was clean in and out, and Doc did a mighty fine job on this. Hell, he even hooked me up with a crutch so I don't have to rely on you hauling my ass to the shitter every time I gotta go."

"It's my fault." Spike said flatly. "I should have left this fucking ship months ago. I should have stayed off on Callisto."

"Shoulda woulda coulda never did nothing for nobody." Jet reasoned. "Done is done and we're here now. Not your fault this happened."

Spike made a harsh noise in his throat and finally turned to look down at Jet. "Not my fault? Not my fucking fault? You're kidding, right? You know this is all because of me. They're gunning for me and they'll take out everyone around me just to rub salt in the wound. I was stupid. Vicious gave me such a long rope to run around on... why didn't I stay on my guard? This shouldn't have happened. You're not supposed to get hurt because of me."

Jet was quiet. Truth was... it was Spike's fault. But at the same time it wasn't. After he'd cottoned onto the fact that Spike had a criminal past, Jet could have kicked him off the ship anytime. Could have turned him into the ISSP on any moon or planet. Could have thrown the kid to the wolves and wiped his hands of the problem.

"They're gonna try for the others." Spike's voice was low, rough. There was no need to specify who he meant.

Jet shivered and Spike pursed his lips. He walked off quickly and came back with a blanket from one of the bedrooms before Jet could even call after him.

"You're in shock still. Ought to get you out of these sweat-soaked clothes too." Spike advised.

"Later. I just need to rest now." Jet argued. He made to lie down on the couch and Spike moved swiftly to help him ease the wounded leg up onto the cushion. "Lemme rest. We'll figure out everything else later. See if you can raise either of them on comms. Probably we're too far for the signal to reach but..."

Spike gave him a nod and disappeared up the ladder to the bridge.

Closing his eyes, Jet strove to take deep and even breaths. He couldn't think about the girls being targets. Couldn't think about the staggering number of enemies suddenly poised to destroy them all. It was an overwhelming prospect and Spike was right - he was still in shock. The pain of getting shot was leeching back into him now that he was reclining and unable to distract himself with anything else.

It did not feel good.

Worse, the silence of the empty ship was beginning to sound and feel positively menacing.