No.20 - Tumblr Posts

Whumptober Prompt #20- Trembling

Okay I gotta admit, I lost my way about halfway through this.  Maybe a quarter into it.  I thought I had a good idea and then it spiraled and it is no longer a good idea.  Especially the ending.  So I’m posting it because it’s done but it’s not good.  Know that going into it, it’s Coldflash trash.  By the way, I haven’t proofread this.  Like at all.

...

Len never minded the rain, in its proper place and time.  Len always enjoyed the days when he could curl up under a blanket, make himself some hot coco, and find a nice documentary on Netflix.  But sudden storms?  Sudden storms, such as the one from the night the Particle Accelerator exploded, changing the very fabric of his city?  Storms that flew in on clouds that had no business going that fast, bringing a humidity he couldn’t stand, mystifying the weather reports so no one knew to bring an umbrella, suddenly going from dry as a bone to soaking wet in a matter of seconds?  Those he hated with a burning passion.

Len all but threw himself into Jitters, he didn’t really do coffee shops where people he didn’t trust handled his food, but it was open and he could sit for a while without having to do much.  Plus, Jitters did have some famously good hot chocolate and in this weather, he was willing to hover like a hawk while they made his drink.  Anything to warm himself up.  The line was longer than he expected for three in the afternoon, but he didn’t care.  Jitters was warm, and it felt good against his damp, shivering skin.

The barista was a young woman, with a name tag that read Iris, who took his order for the biggest hot chocolate they could make with a smile.  He thanked her, paid, and picked a spot right where he could see everything the baristas were doing.  An unfamiliar heaviness pulled at his eyelids, but he fought it, unable to trust that no one recognized the new villain Captain Cold and could potentially hurt him.  Thankfully, there were no issues with his drink when they called out the false name he’d given the barista.  After that, he tucked himself away in a quiet nook in the back, where he wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Are you alright?”  A familiar but nameless voice asked, sending a chill down his spine.

Len looked up and saw an attractive young man, tall, lanky, with green eyes, and a concerned smile on his face.

“You’re just, ah- you’re dripping wet.”  The man continued when Len didn’t answer him.  “I thought you might want a jacket.”

He held out a jacket that clearly belonged to himself, one that wouldn’t fit around Len’s shoulders if he tried.  It was a sweet gesture though, and he could appreciate the thought.

“Thanks, kid, but I don’t think that’ll fit me.”  Len replied.  “Maybe my sister.”

The kid laughed, blood rushing to his cheeks.  “I’m know I look skinny.  Got struck by lightning, can’t gain weight on me to save my life now.”

That piqued his interest.  The kid had muttered it lowly, as if chastising himself.  “Struck by lightning?”

The kid nodded.  “The night of the Particle Accelerator.  I ended up in a coma for nine months.  And now I’m like a whole size down.”

“Shit, kid.”  Len said, now noticing the skinniness did seem a little unnatural.  The kid seemed almost gaunt, with pale cheeks and deep bags under his eyes.  Being in a coma must’ve completely changed his body type.  A bit of pity entered Len’s heart.  “I’m sorry.  I can try on the jacket, couldn’t hurt.”

He wasn’t sure why he was trying on a jacket that wouldn’t fit him.  But the kid perked up immediately, and Len decided this was no mortal, it was an adorable puppy in a human suit, and well, he had always liked dogs.

So he peeled off the jacket he’d have to wring out when he did get home and took the offered clothing.  Surprisingly enough, the jacket wasn’t too tight.  It fit around his shoulders, but he couldn’t zip it up, though it came close.  How much weight had this kid lost during this coma?

“Thanks.”  Len nodded.  “Have a seat.”

The kid smiled, and joined him at the table.

“You got a name to go with the outfit?”  Len asked.

“Oh, I’m an idiot, I’m Barry.”  Barry said, blushing again.  “Barry Allen.”

“Len Winters.”  Len offered his hand and Barry eagerly shook it.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Winters.”  Barry said, laughing lightly, completely oblivious to Len’s actual name.

“Just Len.  No need for formalities when I’m literally in your clothes.”

Barry outright laughed at that.  Len allowed himself to join for a moment.

“So what brings you over here?”  Barry asked.  “I know like all the regulars around this time, and I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Oh, you work here?”  Len asked.

“My sister does.”  Barry explained.  “Iris, she works here to help pay for her journalism degree.  My job has unusual hours, so I hang out here on my break and just chat with her.  I’ve gotten to know all the regulars here, it’s really nice.”

Len smiled, of course this kid would make it a point to get to know everyone at a workplace he didn’t work at.  Seemed very in character for what little he knew of the kid.

“And your job with unusual hours?”  Len asked, entertaining himself with this kid.

“Oh, I’m a CSI with the CCPD.”  Barry replied cheerfully.

Man, Len had the shittiest luck.  Of all people who could’ve offered him a jacket, who he would’ve allowed to sit with him, it had to be a literal cop.

Len’s years of practice kept his face neutral.  Though he had to find an extraction quickly, lest this kid begin to realize who he’s just shared his jacket with.

“What’s that like?”  Len asked, before coughing away from the kid.  The cough was real, but he timed it so he could easily claim he wasn’t feeling well so he could get home.

“It’s really fun, using science to solve crimes.”  Barry frowned at him.  “I mean, it’s kinda just like being on TV except we don’t cut the corners or work the magic they do.  Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  He denied on instinct, unused to the kid’s freely shown concern.  This kid was putting a lot of effort into a stranger.  “Probably just the weather.”

Barry pursed his lips but went along with it.  “What do you do?”

“I freelance.”  Len replied with his usual answer to anyone new.  “Odd jobs here and there, but they pay well.”

“That’s really cool.”  Barry smiled, a smile Len found entirely too infectious.  “What was your last one?”

“Uh, I worked with the train system.”  Len said, the lie slipping off his tongue easily.  “I made them more prepared for another attack should some villain attack again.”

Technically, that was true.

Barry’s eyes lit up.  “That’s so cool.  Do you do security or tech?”

“Bit of both.”  Len replied.  “Like I said, odd jobs.”

“Wow.”  Barry said.  “What do you think of the new safe that Mercury labs just designed?  Because I was looking at the schematics they released for public production and I thought that it was impenetrable but I’m sure you know more than I do.”

The kid had seemed so relieved to ask, like he’d finally found someone who understood what his life was like, understood his passions, and he hated to break the kids heart but a known thief talking about safes was not a good idea.  Not when his parka and gun were still plastered all over the news.

He forced a cough a little more, which set off a reaction and his lungs actually tried to escape his chest.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”  Barry asked, his voice laced with such unease and worry.  “You’re trembling.”

“I said I’m fine, kid.”  Len said, ignoring the tremors in his hands.  “Let me give you your jacket back.  Think I’m gonna head home.”

Barry opened his mouth to protest but Len simply took off the now damp jacket, though it sent a shiver down his spine.  He didn’t realize it had been so cold in here.

“Thanks for the jacket.”  Len made to stand up but his legs didn’t work as well as they should’ve and he stumbled.

Barry gently pushed him back into his seat.  “I’m really sorry, but you seem really sick.”

Barry put a hand on his forehead, and Len flinched at Barry’s cold hands.

“You seem warm.”  Barry muttered.  “Did you drive here?”

Len shook his head, cursing his own weakness.  “Took the subway.”  He was a goddamn supervillain, the number one nemesis of the Flash, and he couldn’t even go out into the rain without getting sick.

“Look, I know you don’t really know me and I don’t really know you but can I offer you a ride home?  I can steal my sister’s car.”  Barry offered.

“You don’t drive?”  Len found himself asking.

“Nah.”  Barry said.  “I like to run.  Can’t afford a car anyways.”

He knew he shouldn’t get in a car with strangers, knew he definitely shouldn’t get into a CSI’s car, even if it was his sisters, but he was feeling worse by the minute so he decided to screw logic and accept the generosity of the strange young man before him.

“Well, I suppose I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.  Lead the way.”

Barry smiled, relieved.  “Wait here, I’ll get Iris’s keys.”

Len watched as Barry walked over to his sister, the lovely barista who had taken his order, and he pointed back at him.  The woman frowned.  If Len had the strength, he would’ve run right then and there.  The kid had to have recognized him, or maybe something had been left at the train station- no, he was careful, he never left evidence, was the cold gun traceable?

“Whoa, you okay?”  Barry asked, returning with keys in hand.  “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“‘M fine.”  Len muttered, squashing the nausea that had been building in his stomach.  He couldn’t outrun any cop like this, no matter the adrenaline in his system.  His legs felt weak, his chest hurt, and fatigue pulled at his eyes.  Mick would have to break him out and he hated when Mick had to do that.  It always left such a mess.

“Okay, well, her car is parked back in the employee lot.”  Barry explained.  “Come on.  Let’s get you home.”

Barry offered his hand and Len took it.  May as well not tell the kid he knew the kid was onto him.

“So Len, where do you live?”  Barry asked, gently wrapping Len’s arm around his shoulder.  The kid had some strong muscles underneath the pale skin, so he wondered if even the coma story was true.

“On Grand.”  He answered.  Grand was one of the main streets he used to get home so it was a safe enough answer.

“North Grand or South?”  Barry asked.

“South.”

Barry nodded.  “Got it.  So I’m taking the seventeen to exit on what, Tower Street?”

“The seventeen just past Tower.”  Len replied, answering honestly so he had less of a walk to lose the cop.  “On Crimson.”

Barry nodded and they arrived at a beater car.

“This is her car?”  Len asked, before his mind could tell his mouth to shut up.  “It’s older than you.”

Barry laughed.  “Yeah, this is Gloria.  She’s a 2002 but she’s still going strong.”

Len nodded as he got into the car.  Inside was kept in good condition so this Iris did try to take care of what she had.

“Gloria was the cheapest car her dad would let her buy.”  Barry said, still going on.  “Joe is really protective, her mom died in a car accident.”

“Joe?”  Len asked.  “You call your father by his first name?”

“Joe isn’t my real dad.”  Barry blushed.  “Well he is.  Actually, Joe adopted me after something happened to my dad.  My dad is Henry Allen, but Joe took me in when I was eleven.”

Henry Allen, that name rang a bell.  A bell in Iron Heights, a doctor he’d often seen in solitary to protect him from the gangs and families.

“That was nice of him.”  Len responded simply.

“Yeah, Joe’s a really good guy.”  Barry said, getting onto the freeway.  “He treats me like his own so Iris is my sister and Joe is kinda my dad but I call my dad Dad so it gets a little confusing.”

“Makes sense.”  Len answered, his nose stuffing up.  He wasn’t sure if he’d already been sick before the rain or something in his hot coco was making him sicker.  This cold was coming on almost unnaturally fast.

For someone without a car, Barry drove pretty well, easily managing talking and driving. The constant chatter was keeping Len awake so he was grateful for it.  He hated to give up his safehouse off grand but what was necessary was necessary.

“What about you?”  Len realized that Barry had now focused his attention back to him.  “Do you have any siblings?”

“A brother.”  Len lied.  He and Mick could be called brothers in a decent light, had passed for family numerous times.  It had always worked.  “Older.  Dominic.”

“Is he an asshole?”  Barry asked, chuckling.  “I’ve heard that older brothers are always assholes.”

“He can be.”  Len allowed himself to answer honestly.  Dominic Winters didn’t exist so it didn’t matter how Mick was described.  “Sometimes he’s the biggest dumbass in the world, making too many decisions out of spite instead of thinking things through, but he always gets my ass out of trouble so I can’t hate him too much.”

Barry smiled, getting into the correct lane for their exit.  “I know what that’s like.  Iris fights Joe on a lot of the overly controlling stuff and I get dragged in more often than not but they’re my family.  I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

“What about your mother?”  Len asked, trying to get the conversation off himself.  “You haven’t mentioned her.”

Barry’s eyes went solemn, his body slumping slightly.  “She’s dead.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”  And he was.  He knew what it felt like to lose your mother at a young age.

“It’s okay.”  Barry replied, making his way to Grand.  “She died when I was eleven, it’s been a while.”

Ah, that was why he remembered Allen’s name.  The doctor that murdered his wife but now suddenly couldn’t harm a fly.  Copying a fifty year old movie would not get him out of prison, no matter how “original” Allen thought the move.

“Still, I know what it’s like to lose your parents.”  Len said, casually omitting that his father was still alive.  Though, if he had his druthers, it wouldn’t be for long.

“You do?”  Barry asked, sounding relieved and guilty and sad all at the same time.  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Likewise.”  Len said, seeing the shortcut to his apartment pass by.  “This next one is me.”

“Cool.”  Barry pulled into a gated driveway.  “Will it open?”

“I’ve got my keys.”  Len said.  “Thanks for the ride.”

“Of course.”  Barry said.

As Len was getting out, Barry shouted, “Wait!”

Len froze, ready to run at any moment.

“Can I… can I give you my number?”  Barry asked, blushing wildly.

Len stared at him.  That had not been the direction he’d been expecting.

“Okay I gotta be honest, I didn’t exactly just come over out of the goodness of my heart.”  Barry admitted.  “I was checking you out and Iris made your drink and she said if I didn’t go over and talk to you, she was writing my number on your cup.”

Len gaped at him.  “That… was a surprise.”

“Oh my god, I told her you weren’t into men!”  Barry groaned, hitting his head on the steering wheel.  “I’m so sorry, just forget I asked, I can’t believe myself-”

“I didn’t say I was straight, I’m just married.”  Len said, hating to break the kids heart but he wasn’t going to date some CSI.  He knew the rules better than that.  “I’m flattered though.  My husband would adore you.”

That was true.  If he and Mick were married for more than legal reasons of spousal privilege, and Barry weren’t a CSI, Mick would’ve loved to bring Barry into the mix.  Young, naive, puppy dog eyes, that was Mick’s entire type.

Barry sighed.  “I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be, kid.”  Len said.  “Word of advice from an old man. Always shoot your shot.  You never know who’s gonna say yes.  I thought my husband was straight for the longest time.”

Barry managed a small chuckle.

“Thanks for the ride, Barry Allen.”  Len said, finally getting out of the car for real this time.  “Maybe we’ll see each other again soon.  Next time, hopefully my sinuses won’t be trying to kill me.”

“Goodbye Len Winters.”  Barry said as Len closed the door.

Len headed to the gated community, easily and discreetly picking the lock.  He knew this community, there were two entrances. He could easily fool the CSI into thinking this was his apartment.  As he walked home, still shivering, still coughing every little while, he thought of the cute CSI and what his life could have been like if his name had actually been Len Winters.

Day 12, 20, 26, 31- Friends are the Best Obvious Solution

Prompts- Insomnia, Found Family, "Sometimes I Get so tired, I Don't Know Myself", and "I thought I was getting better"

Katsuki hasn't been able to properly sleep for a while, having nightmares that leave him unable to get back to sleep until he has to get up again. The squad notices something's wrong, and decide that they're gonna help no matter what Katsuki says.

ao3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/51255391

Katsuki couldn’t count the hours of sleep he’d lost in the past couple of weeks. He’d tried everything to help him sleep, all sorts of tea, white noise, melatonin, and even yoga and meditation. Nothing worked. Every day was becoming the same, go to bed at 8:30 like normal, fall asleep, have terrible nightmares, wake up terrified and shaking just past midnight, stare at the ceiling trying desperately to fall back asleep, fail, and then get up at five when his alarm goes off. He’d had this routine since getting to the dorms, it was very similar to his old routine except now he could train and shower instead of showering before getting on the train. He very much liked it, even with his friends calling him an old man for going to bed so early. He never cared about what they said anyways, they had shitty routines of their own, and he just laughed at them when they complained about being tired after going to bed at 2am. His routine was far superior, and let him get actual rest to be prepared for the next day.

Except now, he wasn’t getting any rest at all. He didn’t understand. The nightmares that had started after the sludge villain incident had died down, resurfacing with the USJ and Kamino, but they had died down again. Nothing violently traumatic had happened again, so the fact that they had come back with a vengeance made no sense. It had been months, he shouldn’t be having these nightmares! He’d moved on, everything was different now, and he should be fine!

But he wasn’t fine. Katsuki didn’t do well without sleep. Simple things that he’d never put any thought into, like taking notes or staying awake in class, had suddenly become very daunting tasks that he struggled with every day. It was even getting a little hard to read his own handwriting, though it was usually crisp and clear. At this point, it was only his pride that kept him from going to Recovery Girl or his family’s doctor for some sleeping medication. He was fucking Bakugou Katsuki, and he didn’t need fucking medication to do things he’s always done.

Though, his pride took a heavy blow in favor of the meds when he got his last math quiz back. Katsuki excelled in school, in all subjects, and it was rare that he’d get anything below a ninety-eight percent.

This one was a ninety . Shit.

“Hey, I did way better this time!” Kirishima said happily, shoving his seventy-eight in Katsui’s face. Through the fog of sleep deprivation, he was at least proud of his friend. Especially since he’d worked hard to get all that damn information into Kirishima’s head.

“Finally.” Katsuki muttered. “Bout time you started retaining the shit I teach you.”

Kirishima gave him an abashed but still ridiculously bright smile. “You know, I may learn better without you whacking me on the head all the time. What did you get?”

“Fuck off, that’s my business.” Katsuki said, immediately trying to shove it into his backpack. However, his behavior must have set off alarm bells in Kirishima’s mind, so his stupid fucking best friend tried looking even harder than his casual glace of before.

“Ninety?!?” “Shut up!” Katsuki hissed, his cheeks heating up without his consent.

“Dude I’ve never seen you get a score so low.” Kirishima’s voice was irritatingly worried, and Katsuki hated it. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, keep your nose out of my fucking business.”

“ Something’s wrong.” Kirishima pressed. “You’ve been off lately, like way off. I just thought maybe you were studying really hard but something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Katsuki insisted.

“Come on, I’m your best friend, you can tell me.” Kirishima said, his eyes gratingly sincere.

“There’s nothing to tell.” Katsuki growled, and thankfully, class was over for the day now, and they could go home. Katsuki just quickly grabbed his stuff, and left, ignoring Kirishima’s urges to talk.

Thank fuck it was friday. Now it was time to stare at the ceiling for long past five am. At least he could still stay in bed however long he wanted to.

Katsuki just went straight to his dorm room, again ignoring all of Kirishima’s attempts to talk to him, and locked his door behind him. His bag thudded heavily to the floor, and he flopped down onto his bed, cradling his head in his hands. Gods, what he wouldn’t do to just sleep. 

His bed was comfortable, his room was the perfect temperature, he’d changed into comfortable sweats and an oversized t-shirt, and he didn’t have school tomorrow so he could sleep in as long as he wanted, and still he couldn’t sleep. Closing his eyes just left him in the dark, and trying to do stupid breathing exercises to calm his mind did nothing. Sleep eluded him like common sense eluded Deku, and Katsuki just lay in bed, wishing with all his might that he could sleep and not getting it.

A knock startled him out of his desperate attempts for sleep, and he just sighed. Impatiently, the knock sounded again.

“Kaaaccchhaann.” Kaminari whined from the other side of the door.  “We know you’re in there.”

“No shit I’m in here, it’s my fucking room!” He shouted back.

“Come on, bro, open the door!” Kirishima was there too apparently. “We wanna hang out.”

“Yeah! It’s friday!” Aaaaand there was Sero. Dammit, he hated when all of his friends ganged up on him. It was always much harder to resist when all of his idiots were yapping at him. “Time for a smash brothers tournament!”

“We’re not gonna leave you alone until you come with us.” Ashido. Great, now the whole squad was outside his door. “So you might as well just give in and come out.”

He sighed again, loudly and dramatically. Fucking hell, his friends were annoying. But playing video games was mindless, and he did at least enjoy it. Maybe it would exhaust him enough to finally let him sleep.

“Fine.” He sighed, and the squad cheered. “But I’m player one, and no one complains about it.”

“Deal!” was chirped and Katsuki reluctantly got out of bed.

Apparently tonight was in Kirishima’s room, so at least he didn’t have to go far. They often cycled through the squad for video game tournaments and movie nights (except his. No one went into his room but him). But this time it was Kirishima’s turn to host, and so they all shuffled into the horrible brightness of his best friend’s room, and all spread out on the only available room to sit, the bed. Katsuki wasn’t sure how, as he didn’t like people coming into his personal space, but somehow, he ended up in the middle of Kirishima’s bed with Kirishima on his right side and Ashido on his left. Kaminari and Sero were sitting on the floor, leaning against his legs. This felt very intentional, but his friends weren’t acting suspicious, and since none of them could act well, he let it go. Maybe he was overthinking it?

He was handed the player one controller, and the others were passed around. The game was familiar enough to be relaxing, yet high speed enough to take his mind off his problems a little bit. He got comfortable and barely noticed it, sagging where he was sitting, body growing lax and complacent with a desperate need to rest. Everything started to fade into the background, the colors began to blur on the TV. His hands pushed the controller buttons automatically, on pure motor memory, but as his surroundings turned to white noise, he forgot that he was actually competing with anyone. His hands slowed as his mind sank into the comfort of where he was, the people around him. His friends’ animated chattering turned to a quiet buzz in his ears, sharp but familiar. He was warm on all sides, and Kirishima’s duvet was surprisingly soft.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, yanking him out of his reverie, and the controller was being pulled out of his hands. He was confused until he managed to refocus his vision and see Ashido looking at him with big, worried eyes.

“Okay, Kirishima was right, something’s wrong.” She said.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Katsuki insisted. “Let’s just finish playing.”

“Dude, the game’s over.” Sero said, staring at him with the same worry in Ashido’s eyes.

His eyes flicked to the screen, and it had returned to the selection of characters for the next round. Shit. He hadn’t even noticed. His eyes came back to his friends, and everyone was staring at him. Even Kaminari was giving him an uncertain look.

“Come on, Bakugou, talk to us.” Kirishima said, and the walls Katsuki put up were becoming too exhausting to keep up. The sincerity even he couldn’t mistake for pity was too strong, the room too comfortable for him to be able to resist. He was just so tired. “We’re your friends. You can tell us anything.”

“I’m fine.” Katsuki hissed, his last desperate attempt to get them to back off before his walls fully crumbled. How had he lost so much ground so quickly? He was normally so much stronger than this. But dammit, he was exhausted and keeping up this act just added to his exhaustion.

“But you’re not.” Kirishima said. “You’ve been way off in training, you haven’t been getting your normal scores, and you just zoned out for like ten minutes without even realizing it. That’s not ‘fine’, dude. It’s just not.”

No matter where he looked, he couldn’t escape this sincerity, and he was trapped, with Sero leaning up against his leg so he couldn’t just storm out. Fuck.

“Icantsleep.” Katsuki whispered, his voice barely audible.

“What?” Chorused from his friends.

“I can’t sleep.” Katsuki sighed heavily. “Everything’s fine, I’m just really fucking tired.”

“But… you’ve been going to bed every night super early like normal.” Kaminari said, surprised. “We’ve seen you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stay up past nine on school nights.”

“I don’t.” Katsuki said. “I just… I don’t know. I get into bed, and I just can’t sleep. I mostly just lay there.”

His friends exchanged worried looks.

“How long has it been since you last got decent sleep?” Kirishima asked.

Katsuki just shrugged, since honestly at this point, he really didn’t know.

“Have you tried, like, melatonin or tea?” Ashido asked.

Katsuki nodded. “Yes, I’ve tried those, I’ve already tried all the fucking obvious methods. Meds, tea, all the different noises, I even tried fucking yoga . Nothing worked. I just can’t sleep.”

“So is it like a mental thing?” Kaminari asked. “I sometimes can’t sleep because my thoughts are going too fast.”

Katsuki just shook his head.

“Well then, do you know what it is?” Sero asked. “That’s keeping you up? Because it sounds like it’s not a physical thing, if those other things didn’t work, and you say it’s not a mental thing, so I feel like there’s a puzzle piece missing.”

Katsuki just shrugged, not wanting to admit the nightmares, but his cheeks turned light pink anyways. Dammit.

“Okay, come on, what are you not telling us?” Kirishima asked directly. “I know that face, Bakugou, that face means you’re hiding something.”

“It does not!” Katsuki shot back.

Kirishima just raised an eyebrow. “How long have we been friends? And next door neighbors?”

“I keep telling you fucks, we’re not friends, I just can’t get rid of you.” Katsuki said, curling into himself unconsciously.

“Since the USJ at least.” Kirishima said, answering his own question. “I know you, man. We know you.”

“And that face means you’re hiding something.” Ashido finished. “You always get the tiniest blush when you know something we don’t know.”

“I do not.” Katsuki grumbled.

Several versions of “yes, you do” were echoed from all sides.

Katsuki just slumped harder. Fuck his friends. How the fuck did they know him so well? He hadn’t even known them a year! And yet, they knew him better than anyone in his life, outside of his parents and maybe Deku.

“Fucking fine, I have nightmares, okay!” Katsuki shouted, the jagged remains of his internal walls becoming like porcupine quills, trying to stab his friends with his anger. “I don’t fucking know why, but I’ve been having them basically every single fucking night, and there’s no goddamn reason for them! Will you shits leave me alone now?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kirishima asked, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment.

“What the fuck would I say?” Katsuki snapped. “So you could call me a fucking pussy who gets nightmares for no fucking reason?”

“We wouldn’t call you a pussy because you get nightmares, Bakugou.” Kirishima said. “I get nightmares too.”

“Yeah, we all do.” Sero said, with Kaminari and Ashido nodding along.

His confusion must have been written on his face because Kirishima continued. “Dude, I’ve gotten them ever since Kamino. And the Shie Hassaikai raid made them come back for a while too. I still get them every once in a while.”

“I got them after the USJ,” Kaminari said, “and mine came back for a while too, after that whole fiasco on I-Island.”

“And not to mention Nabu Island too.” Sero added.

“I still have nightmares about that woman.” Ashido shuddered, and Katsuki knew she was also talking about Nabu. “Sometimes I even have nightmares about failing out of school.”

“Oh gods, girl, same.” Kaminari said, leaning back on Katsuki’s leg to look directly up at Ashido. “I have that nightmare the night before every test.”

Katsuki unconsciously filed that information away for later, he’d come back to that when the next test came around, but mostly he was still confused. “But none of you ever said anything. You shits literally talk about every subject under the fucking sun and you’ve never mentioned that. I would’ve noticed.”

“I mean, I guess not, but like.” Kirishima shrugged. “That doesn’t mean we’d call you a pussy for having them. You’re too hard on yourself, bro. Nightmares happen.”

“Not to me.” Katsuki hissed. “I’m fine , there’s nothing wrong with me!”

“We’re not saying anything’s wrong with you, Bakugou.” Ashido said, placing her hand on his shoulder for a moment, like Kirishima did.

“Nothing has to be wrong with you for you to get nightmares.” Sero said. “Honestly, with all the shit you’ve been through, I’d be shocked if you didn’t get them.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine getting kid-uh, I mean battling villains the way you did and not getting nightmares.” Kaminari recovered quickly after almost fucking up, reminding Katsuki of what he did not like being reminded of . Kamino could go die for all he cared, and he hated any reminder of it with a passion.

“But we haven’t had any battles lately.” Katsuki snapped, his hatred for his own weakness coming out as a spat at his friends. “There’s no fucking reason for this.”

“I don’t think nightmares need a specific reason to happen, bro.” Sero shrugged. “You just get them. There doesn’t always need to be a reason.”

Katsuki huffed, unhappy with that answer.

“We can figure out the reason tomorrow.” Kirishima said, successfully putting a pin in the conversation. He was good at that, at getting Katsuki to come back to shit when he felt better. “Right now, I think we just need to focus on helping you sleep.”

“I don’t need anyone’s fucking help.” Katsuki growled.

“Uh-huh.” Kirishima was also good at calling him out on his bullshit. Dammit, when had his stupid best friend gotten so good at that? “Come on. Lay down. You’re staying with me tonight.”

“No.” Katsuki said, very confused at to what the fuck his friend was even planning. “That’s dumb.”

“Fine, I’ll just tackle you.” Kirishima stated seriously, and honestly, Katsuki believed him.

“Whatever.” He grumbled, pulling himself back a little so he could properly lay down on Kirishima’s bed. For someone who’s entire thing was hardening, Kirishima’s bedding was unexpectedly soft. “Now what, geniuses?”

Apparently ‘now’ was everyone climbing onto the bed with him, Ashido pressed against his abdomen and the wall, Kirishima on his other side, and Sero and Kaminari back on his legs. They weren’t on him enough for him to feel trapped, but enough for him to feel that they were there. It felt oddly comforting.

“Okay, now close your eyes.” Ashido said.

He just glared up at her.

“You have to close your eyes to sleep.” She rolled her eyes. “Unless you sleep with your eyes open. Wait, do you sleep with your eyes open?”

“No, I don’t sleep with my eyes open, that’s weird.”

“Okay, so close your eyes.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes at her, and he sighed unhappily, but he did as she said.

“Breathe in for four seconds, and then exhale for seven.” Sero said.

“Tried that.” Katsuki replied. “Didn’t work.”

“Do it anyway.” Sero said, and he could hear him rolling his eyes. His bastard friends had a lot of nerve to roll their eyes at him, considering what they were doing. “You need to relax, and stop fighting us. Otherwise, you’re never going to get to sleep.”

“I’m never going to sleep with all you fucks watching me either.” Katsuki mumbled.

“We’re not watching you,” Ashido said. “We’re helping you.”

“Same thing.” Katsuki muttered.

“Just do the fucking breathing exercises.” Sero snapped.

Overdramatically, he took a big breath in, and blew it out. Afterwards, he started counting to four and seven as he breathed, and his body did start to relax. His mind was still very much wide awake but at least his body wasn’t as taut as a rubber band anymore. It felt a little strange, as he hadn’t felt anything when he’d tried this on his own, but it was working so he didn’t question it.

A hand suddenly came to his hair, brushing through his spikes, scratching lightly. His eyes immediately snapped open, and he found the hand belonged to Ashido. 

“Fuck are you doing?” Katsuki asked, but he was taken aback a little by his own voice. He sounded like he was half-asleep, but he knew that was untrue. His mind was still very awake.

“Shush, and keep your eyes closed.” She lightly chastised him. Katsuki didn’t even notice that she hadn’t answered his question.

Instead of standing up and telling his friends this didn’t work either, his leaded eyes just slid shut. His mind sank back into the comfort from before, a quiet voice of anxiety and fear effectively silenced by the warmth and safety his friends emanated.

Distantly, he could feel hands pull at his feet, taking his shoes off for him, and he didn’t have the words to respond to them. The fingers in his hair became his only real focus, feeling the gentle strokes of Ashido’s hand as she lightly dragged her nails over his scalp. No one but his parents had ever attempted anything like this, but he found he didn’t really want her to stop. Her fingers seemed to turn his exhaustion into a soft brook across his body, seeking out tension and washing it away. After an amount of time he couldn’t distinguish, the only things he could feel anymore were his friends comforting weight against him, and Ashido’s fingers in his hair. There were soft noises around him, gentle but garbled. Katsuki only caught the words ‘sleep’ and ‘night’, and couldn’t decipher any of the rest.

In an instant, Katsuki’s mind had gone from being completely awake to hanging by a thread, and Katsuki wasn’t sure when that had happened. Sleep hit him like a freight train, the thread of his consciousness didn’t stand a chance, and he was asleep between one breath and another.

After being so used to waking up shaking and sweating, Katsuki didn’t notice he was actually awake at first. He woke up slowly, an easy rise to consciousness not tainted by fear and terror. He felt warm on all sides, with heavy pressure all over his body, and he was so comfortable that he could’ve slipped back into sleep without much issue. Even more surprising, he felt rested for the first time in what felt like weeks. This was one of the best sleeps of his life. He idly wondered what brought it on after those debilitating nightmares.

Oh yeah. His friends. He could hear their soft breathing, feel their bodies all over him. Ashido was still sandwiched between him and the wall with her legs across his waist, Kirishima had flopped almost onto him, and the idiot’s legs seemed to be hanging off the bed, Sero and Kaminari were all tangled up on his legs, using his thighs as pillows. Kaminari was drooling on him, of fucking course the idiot drooled, but he was so comfortable that he let it go (for now). It took a bit of work to extract his hand from the pile that was him and his friends, but he checked his phone that was still in his pocket. It was a little past 5. Wow, he’d actually slept through the whole night.

Even with all the sleep he'd gotten which made him feel sooooo much better, he was still exhausted. His sleep deficit had only increased the more this went on, and he had a lot to make up. So, since no one was awake, he just snuggled in deeper to his friends, pressing into all of them, and he let the safety of his friends (who were practically family to him at this point) take him right back to sleep. And he slept long after everyone else had woken up, though they all still stayed cuddled up to him, their presence keeping the nightmares away.

Whumptober days 17-20 - "Stay with me"; Muffled Scream; Asphyxiation; Trembling

A combination fill for @whumptober2019​, since I’ve been absent for a few days. It’s a bit longer, so I’ve added a read-more line. Be careful of the triggers that start showing up after that line - there’s some fairly graphic violence, including murder, in this story. Also available on Ao3.

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

It happened so suddenly that there wasn’t anything to do. One moment, it was a regular day where they were calmly wandering the streets, discussing where they should go for dinner.

The next, there was a dart sticking out of Bucky’s neck and he was fading fast.

Reacting quickly, Tony made sure he didn’t hit the ground too roughly as he fell unconscious, pressing the alert button on the side of his watch at the same time. Considering the efficiency, it wasn’t likely to get them help in time, but at least the others would know something was up and hopefully manage to get something set up.

When the men got out of the van, they were wearing masks to make sure they were unrecognizable. But Tony knew that insignia, knew he couldn’t let HYDRA get Bucky back. Not like this.

So he fought, going at them with everything he had. It became clear that they weren’t after him, not at all - if he’d let them, they’d have dragged Bucky with them and left Tony right there on the street to look after them and worry. But he didn’t let that happen, using every single technique any of the other Avengers had ever taught him to make sure he did not get separated from Bucky.

In the end, realizing they needed to get away, they cursed and threw him into the van as well, into the same cage that had been intended for just Bucky.

It was a tight fit, and it left Tony unable to fight them any more as they locked it behind them, but at least he was still with Bucky. And as long as they were together, they could figure out some way to escape, hopefully.

(And if not, well, Tony wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he’d just let them take Bucky.)

Even though he’d been prepared for it, it still hurt when they dragged him out of the cage, prepared as they were for his resistance and too many of them around to fight. He curled into himself as they kicked at him, trying to keep them from getting at his chest and face. Silently, he suspected some of them were getting in some revenge for some of the hits he’d managed earlier.

He knew there wouldn’t be anything he could do, not if they decided to drag him away. There might only have been five of them earlier, that had to deal with getting Bucky off the street as quickly as possible and that also had to contend with Tony’s fighting, but they had a lot more time and a lot more people now.

So he was grateful when he was dragged to the same room Bucky was, though they handcuffed him to the cot in there while they put Bucky’s unconscious body on the other side, where some special (and probably super-strength resistant) cuffs had been attached to the wall.

Unfortunately, they didn’t leave them alone. Instead, there were three men standing inside the door and no doubt some reserve outside.

It could have been anywhere between a few minutes to an hour before Bucky started stirring - considering his tension, Tony honestly couldn’t tell, and it wasn’t like it was really important anyway.

The moment Bucky opened his eyes, one of the men started speaking. “Желание… Ржавый…”

“No,” he groaned, shaking his head. It was obvious he was still affected by whatever they’d used to knock him out, since he barely even managed to struggle against the chains like he obviously wanted.

“Семнадцать…”

“Bucky, stay with me,” Tony implored, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t help. Not if they had the trigger words. “Stay with me, please.”

As much as he didn’t think it would help, clearly HYDRA thought differently. He grunted as one of them hit him, hard, making his head smack into the cot roughly. Then, before he could even try to get Bucky’s attention again, the other shoved a gag into his mouth.

“Рассвет…”

Though his words were muffled through the gag, Tony didn’t give up on trying to get Bucky’s attention, calling out his name. It seemed to be working when, rather than weakly struggling against the chains, Bucky looked at him instead, eyes pained.

“Печь…”

Unfortunately, HYDRA seemed to notice as much as well. Before Tony could even try to avoid it, a solid boot came down on his lower leg. He couldn’t help but scream into the gag as he could feel the bones breaking.

“Девять…”

His breathing came in gasps, made more difficult by the gag blocking his airways and his eyes and nose filling up due to the pain. He refused to cry, though, refused to give Goons One and Two the satisfaction. Instead, he clenched his teeth around the gag, trying his best to steady his breathing so he wouldn’t end up suffocating.

“Добросердечный…”

Bucky was trying to pull out his chains one more, except now it was to get to Tony. There was no doubt he could still hear the words the asshole was saying, but it wasn’t something he was focusing on anymore.

“Возвращение на Родину…”

It took everything Tony had not to whimper at the pain rushing through him in time with his heartbeat. Instead, stubbornly, he locked eyes with Bucky, saying everything he couldn’t through the gag in his mouth. You can do this. I’m here for you. Please stay with me. Don’t let them take you again. We can do this. I am not leaving you.

“Один…”

 Please, Bucky… Don’t leave me, either.

“Грузовой вагон…”

Considering how warm Bucky’s eyes usually were, it was eerie to see how flat they went the moment those final words were spoken. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar - the inquisitive look was still obviously there, though less curious and more analytical. His face had gone still as well, no emotion allowed to shine through anymore.

More than his broken leg, the broken look in Bucky’s eyes made Tony want to cry, and he trembled with the effort not to. It had taken so long to get him comfortable around the Avengers, to get him to trust that HYDRA wouldn’t just be able to get a hold on him again, and here they were.

And there was nothing Tony could do except hope that there was something of Bucky left, enough that it would make HYDRA lose their hold on him enough.

“Солдат?” It was the asshole that had been saying the trigger words out loud, not happy with being ignored.

Some of Tony’s hope died when Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier - instantly replied. “Я готов отвечать.” His voice was nearly as flat as his eyes, though Tony couldn’t help but notice how those gray eyes flicked back to him briefly before focusing once again on the guy that should be able to command him now.

Tony wanted to smack the smirk off the HYDRA asshole’s face, but had to settle for a glare that could have burned him alive.

“Very good,” Asshole said, grinning as he looked straight at Tony. He was fully confident he had Bucky under control now, as evidenced by the fact that he walked straight over to undo the cuffs. Disappointingly, Bucky did not spontaneously attack him, instead standing up slowly.

His normal grace was still obvious, though much like everything else, it seemed more calculated now. There was no unnecessary movement, no casual twitches, no tapping his thumb against his fingers the way Bucky usually did when standing still (or tapping his fingers against Tony’s hand when he was holding it).

“Now…” Tony really didn’t like the look in Asshole’s eyes as he looked down at him. “Break his other leg.”

He couldn’t help his slight flinch at that, no matter how much he didn’t want to show weakness. The broken leg was painful enough on its own, but the idea of Bucky being the one to break the other one…

For a few long moments, the Winter Soldier just looked at him, assessing. Then, just as calmly, he turned to his ‘handler’. “Нет.”

It felt like everyone in the room stopped breathing at that, tension rising quickly. Never before had the Winter Soldier outright refused, not like this, and it was clear HYDRA had no idea how to deal with it.

To be fair, neither did Tony, but since no one was breaking his other leg, he was fine riding this one out from the side.

“What!?” Tony honestly could have told Asshole that getting pissed at the Winter Soldier might not be the best idea when he didn’t seem to have full control of him, but clearly that hadn’t occurred to him. And Tony himself was too busy trying to breathe through his pain to be able to do all that much. “I said, break his other leg!”

Before any of them could even react, the Winter Soldier had moved, metal hand closing around Asshole’s neck.

Goons One and Two jumped into motion, but not nearly quick enough. The Soldier grabbed the gun from the guy’s belt, shooting both of them straight through the forehead before they’d even been able to aim their own guns.

In the meantime, he was still choking Asshole, who was starting to look increasingly purple as he tried to grab at the Soldier’s metal arm. It had no effect, its strength far too much for a regular human to be able to do anything against it, and slowly his struggles grew weaker.

Tony couldn’t say he felt any regret when Asshole joined Goons One and Two on the floor. He wasn’t too sure what to do about the Winter Soldier, though, who appraised him carefully before approaching.

He tried to still his trembling as much as possible - the Soldier had said no, had refused to listen to the guy who’d just recited all of his code words, and had just taken all of them no. After being told to hurt Tony. So he tried to remind himself as much as possible that the Soldier, despite everything else, had just refused to hurt him.

The Soldier was astonishingly gentle as he took the gag out of Tony’s mouth, kneeling down so they were at almost the same height. Then, without saying a word, he looked down at the cuffs keeping Tony tied to the cot and yanked, ripping them loose from the cot without hurting Tony’s wrists.

Before he could even start to think of what to say or do, the Soldier himself spoke up, sounding far more hesitant than he had before.. “Лучик?”

He couldn’t help his blush at that. Being called a ray of sunshine by the Winter Soldier was about the last thing he’d been expecting. “What’s up, Winter Wonderland?” he asked, trying for casual. The fact that he sounded like his throat had been sandpapered probably didn’t help, but he thought he pulled it off admirably.

And when the Soldier said “я готов отвечать” again, it sounded less strained and more like he was choosing to let Tony be the one to decide.

It was the biggest show of trust Tony could’ve ever imagined, and he was determined not to let the Soldier down. Not after what he’d just done for Tony, after making his own decision and turning away from HYDRA for Tony. And when they got back to the rest of the Avengers, they were going to figure this entire thing out, Tony and Bucky and the Soldier together.

They’d figure it out.

Whumptober: Lost & Found

Leonardo complied when they dragged him along the halls. He complied when they tried to take a stab at his pride by tripping him and forcing him to ask for help standing.

But then he saw the trunk, the rope, and the black waters, and he pulled to a stop.

"Don't, please don't."

He couldn't bear it, knowing what they were going to do.

"Shut up."

"Please, this isn't-"

Why was he even bothering? This was stupid and degrading, and it wouldn't work anyway. He should have just stopped.

"I said shut up."

"This won't work, y'know. You'll probably kill me."

"It'll be worth it if you die. Get in."

Leonardo stared at the trunk, frozen to the spot. He was not getting in that thing. Not after getting dragged down into the black abyss of the ocean, after almost drowning to save somebody else.

But somebody shoved him, and he went tumbling. "No" wasn't an option. It was dumb to beg. It wouldn't do anything, he should have stopped.

"You're a turtle, right?" One of his captors drawled while he got as comfortable as he could, "You'll be fine! I'm fairly certain you're semi-aquatic."

Then, the top shut, suffocating him in the darkness. He would be fine. He would be fine, he would be fine, he would be fine-

Machinery whirred outside the trunk, and the trunk started dropping. His heart jumped into his throat. The sound of machinery and people faded and muffled, more and more until they were gone, and he was left alone with the sound of his erratic heartbeat.

Leonardo kicked as best he could, but he could barely move in his situation. He was going to die, he was going to die-

He had never feared death before. In fact, he usually welcomed it with open arms.

But this? This was an awful death. This was suffocating alone in the darkness after hyperventilating. If they let him fall far enough, he would be crushed by the water pressure like a soda can.

The trunk did not fall until the water killed him. It settled after a couple seconds of sinking, nestled on the seabed.

That was his chance. If he had any hope of getting out, it was as soon as the trunk had landed. Leonardo kicked and thrashed, trying to push the top open so that he could swim back up.

After a moment, he steadied himself, taking deep breaths. He needed to be calm, or he would run out of air. If he didn’t stop hyperventilating, then he would asphyxiate at that rate.

Maybe…

Yes, that might work. He would have to be fast, though, if he wanted it to work.

Leonardo took a deep breath, then kicked. Hard. The top didn’t budge, but Leonardo didn’t waver either, kicking over and over again until the top leaked. It started as a drip of water, cold and startling on his scales, but as he continued, it grew more and more, turning from a leak into a steady stream.

There was a shorter time limit, now. If he didn’t work fast, the trunk would eventually fill up. Sure, it would take a long time, slow and agonizing, but it would eventually.

Maybe he needed therapy for his overthinking.

That wasn’t the time to think about it, though. He refused to die there.

As he kicked over and over, the stream turned into multiple bursts, spraying him with dark, salty water. It might not have been too pleasant, but it was hope, and he was lacking in that at the moment.

Suddenly, the cover folded in on itself, giving in from its multiple weak points. He took his chance, wiggling out as soon as he could. He was free from the box, now he just needed to get away from the facility. Leonardo twisted and turned in the water, squinting, but seeing nothing in the dark water. Without a goal, he just started swimming in a circle, trying to go slow enough to not use up too much of his oxygen. As far as he looked, there was only the facility above him, blocking him from the open ocean, and he was sure that if he just went far enough, he would find some kind of wall.

Maybe if he tried the original exit, he would have some luck. They might have left him, although that was probably wishful thinking. Leonardo turned back to the singular source of light, the open hatch, and started moving towards that. He hovered below the surface for a second, of course. He was stupid, but not that stupid. Seeing no shadows from people and no movement, he deemed it safe and started moving up.

His mistake.

Somebody grabbed him by the back of his neck and heaved him out of the water, receiving a panicked gasp and a glare from Leonardo.

“There we are,” Came the familiar voice, crooning at him as if they had won. (They have, an unhelpful voice provided for him). “We knew you’d come back to the land of the living fairly quick, so we hovered around for a bit. We’ll have to try with strong containment next time.”

%%%

Leonardo shivered and took a breath. Day seven of solitary confinement, trapped under the water in a reinforced box with a tube for air.

blanket / found family / you will regret touching them (People don’t change people, time does.)

People don't change people, time does.

But that wasn't true.

Time could dull pain, could make memories less vivid, could lessen the emotion associated with a place or a scent or a song. Then again, sometimes nostalgia brought it all back stronger than before. Time changed people by forcing them to grow weaker, to accept the inevitability of aging. Even Spike had to admit that his muscles ached more after fights these days, that it took a little longer to heal after being pushed to the brink. Time stole away his youth but that didn't change him much. At his core he remained the same cocky, arrogant, brash little boy he'd once been.

The differences came due to people. Mao, taking Spike in and giving him a chance to be an errand boy for the Dragons, setting him on a dangerous path in life yet saving his life at the same time... he'd been too reckless, too bold. He had needed someone to take him in hand and point him in the right direction to launch his aggression. Then later, Vicious, meeting him stride for stride as they took the syndicate by storm. Showing him that a rich bitch born with a silver spoon in his mouth could be just as rough and tough as a dirty orphan off the streets. Showing him that despite the difference in their status, they could be enemies or be even more powerful as partners... perhaps even friends. Raising hell and wreaking havoc, they were both brought low by the angel in a leather catsuit. Julia, changing both of them and then sending Spike splintering off from the Syndicate. For the best, really, she'd unlocked something within his soul that kept him from being as unfeeling as he'd once been while performing necessary evils for the Dragons. She'd pulled the wool from over his eyes while simultaneously draping a scrap of silk across his vision instead. He could no longer be the man he had been.

All those versions of himself felt like another person entirely sometimes. Another life, lived and wasted years ago.

Meeting Jet, with the moral compass of one of the few good cops in existence. Spike had thought that was just a fairy tale but getting to know Jet, ex-cop though he was now, proved that occasionally a good one did get through. Of course, the fact that he was no longer ISSP meant that good cops didn't last long in the corrupt system. Still, it made Spike realize there was potential for goodness in all walks of life. More than that, Jet's presence in his life kept him in line as much as he could be kept in line. Doing research, utilizing contacts, tracking down bad guys... Jet was dedicated to their mission as bounty hunters. And dedicated to living a fairly satisfying life as well. The other man could cook, could sew, could wash and dry laundry. All sorts of domestic skills that Spike had never bothered with. Even tending his bonsai showed Spike that there was plenty to be done in life, plenty that offered a feeling of accomplishment and pride. Not that Spike had often bothered with some of those chores, but it felt good when he figured out the proper ratio of laundry detergent, and when he learned how to handle some of the maintenance on his own zipcraft as well.

Ein wasn't a person but he affected a change on Spike as well. Was it the helplessness of the damn dog that had persuaded Spike to forfeit the bounty? He'd never been particularly bothered by seeing creatures on the street before... there had been plenty of dogs and cats and other critters just as homeless as he was, back as a kid. He wasn't one of the asshole brats who tried to fuck with the loose beasties, but he also hadn't done anything to help any of them. It was every thing for itself. And yet he'd reacted instinctively to save the pooch. He tried to explain it away as the bounty not being worth much in the first place - true enough - but he suspected Jet saw through that excuse.

Anyway, fleas and stinky dog farts and whining to go for walks aside, Ein wasn't a bad shipmate really.

Not compared to the next one to arrive at least...

Faye swept into their lives like a whirlwind, upending everything in sight and disappearing before they could even get a grasp on what had happened. That could have been the end of it, too, just one shooting star of a person blazing through... but fate or something must have been conspiring because out of all the ships that could have answered her distress call, it wound up being theirs. And she stuck around at that point.

She was a breath of fresh air that Spike didn't want to breath. An irrepressible display of femininity and sass and uncouth behavior. A contradiction in every sense. She flaunted her body but even a fool could see she wasn't actually interested in sharing what she put on display. She talked big and backed up her words with a surprising set of skills and stubborn bullheadedness. For Spike, sometimes it was like looking in the mirror and he found himself feeling equal parts frustrated, impressed, and intrigued by this creature so similar to him in vice yet so different to him deeper inside. She was cocky but her confidence was unfounded, made up on the spot, and that often blew him away. How she'd managed to survive for so long was a mystery and the more he learned about her the more confused and curious and... hell, even charmed, he became.

She never asked for backup, never called for assistance, but he felt drawn to help her. She lied and cheated and stole and he found it all amusing. He discovered truths about her that she'd never willingly offer up and it only made her more dear to him.

It was the first time he'd been so smitten since his syndicate days and it was puzzling because Julia was such a different specimen of womanhood than Faye. How could they both lay claim to his heart? There were similarities to be sure but ultimately he figured it was because he had changed from who he was then. Wiser, perhaps, or at least more experienced in life, he could finally chuck aside the rose colored glasses through which he'd viewed the past and Julia. Well, after Callisto he was able to do that anyway.

Despite the way his heart began to beat for Faye, it was Ed that brought the most changes to him. If he thought Faye was a breath of fresh air... Ed was like getting doused with the coldest most shocking bucket of water in existence. She washed over all of them like a tidal wave of girlish innocence, childish cleverness, and teenager wickedness. She was brilliant and bizarre, precocious and puzzling, naive and somehow not embittered by the things she'd gone through in life. She made Spike think of the things he'd heard about Buddhism, about the things he'd clung to... about the things he'd refused to acknowledge... about the freedom she exemplified. Denial and regret had no place in her heart or her life. Anger and blame were equally useless. Pride and arrogance made no sense to her.

He felt such a sense of wonder being around her sometimes that it was difficult not to emulate her. Pouring his drink in his meal, for example. He'd been following her lead because she'd been so assured in her creation... and maybe her food did indeed taste better with the liquid she added to it. He'd never know because it was gone so quick. But it was that experimentation that she employed in her days that kept her delighted and questioning.

Jet made him want to lead a good life, making up for the shadowy business of his past. Faye made him want to lead a happy life, embracing the opportunity for love that was just within reach. Ed made him want to live in general - to see with fresh eyes all the things he'd taken for granted or belittled or dismissed, to truly live instead of just moseying through existence waiting for the end to take him away.

And, as he pulled his jacket off to drape like a blanket over Ed's unconscious form on the parlor floor beside a scattered tea set with spilt liquid still sinking into the carpet, glancing briefly at Jet who was sprawled, insensate yet breathing, nearly at the entrance to the hallway that led deeper into the unassuming looking House of Mysticism, he felt a familiar rage creep up his spine at the state of his found family. It was the first time they'd deigned to physically bring Ed along on a bounty hunt because this one seemed like low hanging fruit. A case of missing people that all tied back to this building, where so many silly souls had gone to try and glean the future from a tarot reading. He couldn't believe their foolishness in drinking the tea as clearly that had been tainted. Ed couldn't have known better, but Jet should have had some misgivings and what of Faye? Where even was she in all this?

Gun out, he strode forward stealthily. There were a handful of doors along the hallway but he didn't bother opening any until he could hear the murmur of a voice he didn't recognize. Giving the knob a twist slowly, he eased the door open a crack until he could see into the room. Faye was lying on a table that was covered by a tarp. Her head was lolling back and forth as she moaned, her feet and hands - bound to shackles at the foot and head of the bed - twitched. She was nude.

There was a woman standing over her in hospital scrubs and a face shield, scalpel in hand and ready to get to work.

"I don't know how you're awake still... there should have been enough in that needle to incapacitate you for hours. Your companions barely needed any tea to get knocked out! You must drink like a fish. I'll have to mark that on your chart. Liver likely no good. Kidneys questionable. Still, you've got plenty to offer I think..."

Spike didn't need to hear or see any more. He slammed the door open as he spoke in a dark voice he hadn't used in years. "You will regret touching them."