No.24 - Tumblr Posts

Whumptober Prompt #24- Secret Injury and alt.#1- “Wake Up”

I’m still sick, but have some Irondad and Spiderson.

...

Having Peter around for an actual internship had improved Tony’s mental health more than the mechanic cared to admit.  It was often just too hard to be miserable about the Rogues, worried about his and Pepper’s upcoming wedding, or anything that terrorists or fanatics could throw at him when he was surrounded by infectious smiles and puppy dog eyes.  Peter had somehow worked his way into the hearts of Stark Industries, even Happy likes the kid and Pepper adored him.  If Peter hadn’t had his Aunt Hottie, Pepper would’ve immediately applied for custody after she’d met him.  The kid was just too good.

Which is why Friday’s had become his favorite day.  Friday was lab day. Friday, Peter had a later curfew, as it wasn’t a school night, and often spent the night at the Tower, recently repurchased after the whole Vulture fiasco.  Because Peter has been the one to save the Towers tech, he’d renamed one of the intern labs “Soon to be Parker Industries”.  Peter had almost died on the spot.  Tony still had the footage saved for when he needed a pick-me-up.

So when Peter was late, without calling no less, Tony’s wonderful new mental state began to crumble.  Peter was never late, never wanting to burden Tony or act as if he didn’t want to be there.  Tony had found that out when Peter came in with a skyrocketing fever and enough nausea to light up the city of Toledo.  Worry was starting to eat at Tony’s normal Friday happiness.

“Peter is now in proximity to the Tower.”  FRIDAY’s voice soothed Tony’s mind.  “He’ll arrive on the landing pad in approximately fifteen point seven seconds.”

“Thanks, FRIDAY.”  Tony headed out to the landing pad to see a web above his head and a spandex Spider-Man landing badly on the landing pad.  Another shot of worry ate away at Tony’s heart.  Peter was usually so graceful.

“Bambino?”  Tony called out, heading over to the stumbling kid.

“I’m fine, Mister Stark.”  Came Peter’s strained voice.  “My healing factor will kick in a sec.  Spider-Man caught another mugger today.”

“Alright, kid.”  Tony clapped Peer on the back.  “You sure?”

“No need to worry about me, Mister Stark.”  Peter said.  “My healing factor is already working, I can feel it.”

“Well, let’s just take it easy tonight.”  Tony led the kid inside.  “Maybe just a movie and some popcorn?  You can finally show me some of those me-me’s you keep referencing.”

“Ugh, Mister Stark, it’s memes.”  Peter groaned.

The only thing he loved about getting older was making fun of the younger generation.  Peter had to know Tony was mispronouncing it on purpose, but that didn’t take from the fun.

“If you say so.”  Tony smirked. “Come on.  Let’s take the couch in the rec room.  No one should be using it.”

“I can work, Mister Stark.”  Peter protested.  “I just need a few minutes, nothing more.”

Tony frowned.   Peter was just like him, always pushing himself too far, never quitting until he crashed.  So he decided to intervene, taking a page out of Rhodey’s book.

“Eh, I’ve got nothing big to work on right now.”  Tony lied, knowing he could put the Iron Man upgrades until next week.  It was small stuff, nothing life-threatening, but he knew the kid would love to work on the Iron Man suit.  But it could wait until Peter was feeling better.  “Why don’t you sit at the counter and do your homework and I’ll get the food and drinks?”

“I mean, if you’re sure.”  Peter shrugged, his body language relaxing.

“I’m sure.”  Tony said.  After all, there was nothing more important than Peter’s health.

Peter then pulled his mask off and shoved it in the backpack he always carried.  He always picked it up after patrol around Queens so he could bring his homework to the Tower. Friday may be lab day, but May said homework first, and when May said something everyone listened.  She was just like Pepper that way.

Peter spread his homework across the counter, the normal routine easing Tony’s mind.  He was sure Peter wouldn’t outright lie to him.  If the kid said his healing factor was working strong, he was going to believe him.  He wasn’t going to be Howard and question everything out of the kid’s mouth.  He wasn’t going to create that kind of mistrust.

So Tony went about preparing for a movie night, fondly reminiscing on the movie nights between the Avengers to get Steve and Thor caught up on Earth pop culture.  He shoved down the more unfriendly memories that tried to poison his new life, wanting to just enjoy a movie night with the kid.  He couldn’t wait until the kid relaxed enough to cuddle up close, like a cat near a heater, and they could just sit and enjoy the movie as they did on nights like these.

“It’s funny, Bambi, I don’t think we’ve had a movie night since your midterms.”  Tony said aloud, knowing the kid didn’t do well with quiet.  It made him nervous, that he’d screwed up somehow, and Tony didn’t want to stress the kid out.

A small thump echoed in Tony’s ear.  He turned away from the popcorn he was about to put in the popcorn and found Peter with his head on his book.

“It’s okay, kid, you’ll figure it out.”  Tony sighed.  “Just try looking at another angle.”

Peter didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge his words.

“Bambi?”  Tony asked, starting to get unsettled.  “Bambino, wake up.”

Peter lay still.

Tony raced over to Peter and gently pulled him back, his body limp in Tony’s arms.  Peter was pale, paler than he should be.  It was then Tony saw it, his blood running cold.  A patch of dark spreading across Peter’s back, staining the Spider-Man suit.

“FRIDAY, alert medbay!”  Tony shouted.  “Peter’s been stabbed!”

Tony hauled Peter into his arms, racing down to medbay.

“Wake up, bambino, wake up.”  Tony pleaded.

Peter’s eyes stayed firmly shut.

Tony thanked whatever was up there, God, the universe, Thor that he had restaffed the medbay in case New York was attacked again.  He had wanted help close by, and now he truly needed it.

The doctors he had on staff immediately loaded Peter onto a gurney and whisked him into surgery.

“FRIDAY, call May Parker.”  Tony announced.

“Yes, Boss.”  The rings of the phone broadcasted across the room.

“This is May.”

“Hey May, it’s Tony.”

“Hey, Mister Stark.”  Like nephew, like aunt, he supposed.  “Is everything alright?  You don’t usually call on Fridays, is Peter there?”

“Yeah he’s here.”  Tony sighed.  “May, I have bad news.”

“Oh god, what is it?  Do I need to get over there?”

“My doctors are on top of it, giving him the greatest care in the world.  But… he got stabbed tonight.”

“Oh my-”  May cut off her choked gasp.  “Will he be okay?”

“According to my doctors, yes.  It wasn’t too deep but he is in surgery now. He hid it from me, May.  I didn’t even know he was in pain.”

May chuckled humorlessly.  “He was probably trying to protect you.”

“Self-sacrificial-” He cut himself off.  “I’ve already sent Happy to come get you, he should be there soon.  He was running some errands for SI.”

“Thank you, Mister Stark.”  May said.  “And thank you for looking out for him.  I can repay you-”

“Absolutely not.”  Tony interrupted.  “I will not hear a word about payment.  Your kid is one of the greatest things in my life, and I don’t want you to worry about spending a dime while he’s in my care.  It’s my fault, I missed it.  I should’ve checked him over when I first suspected he was hurt.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Mister Stark.”  May said, trying to sound more put together than she was.  He could hear the cracks in her seams.  “Peter’s always been like this.  Trying to shield the people he loves.”

He nodded before remembering May couldn’t see him. “I understand.”

And he did.  He often did the same thing, but he wasn’t going to let Peter walk down his same path.  He was going to teach the kid to prioritize himself if it was the last thing he did.

“I think that’s Happy.”  May said.  “Thank you, Mister Stark, I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll keep you updated if anything changes, May.”

One of Tony’s doctors then came to Tony.  “He’s alright.  Just lost a lot of blood, that’s why he passed out.  He’s going to be fine, his healing factor has already kicked in.  He shouldn’t even scar.  He just needs a lot of rest.”

Tony sagged in relief, thanked the woman, and then raced to Peter’s bed.

Peter looked much better than he had when he first collapsed, with a saline IV and more color in his cheeks.  He texted Happy to tell May that Peter would be fine, he just needed rest, but she was more than welcome at the Tower.

“What am I gonna do with you, kid?”

Day 14, 21, 24, 28- Never Shall We Die

This was inspired by @olldolldraws they did a great piece with a pirate Katsuki that just made me feral. The story didn't end up like the drawing, but Katsuki's appearance is basically completely the same. But Kirishima wouldn't be the mermaid, so Todoroki ended up doing it. I'm not a fantasy writer, so this might not be the best, but I hope you all really enjoy it.

prompts- water inhalation, restraints, goodbye note, sacrifice- pirate Katsuki has to walk the plank to save his crew, and is resigned to his death. but he's saved by someone, something, completely unexpected

AO3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50193352

Katsuki had never been one that saw the point in making prisoners walk the plank. He thought it was entirely unnecessary, too much energy for too little of a reward. It was far easier to simply stab them and throw the body overboard. His efficiency in executions aided in his rise to becoming one of the most feared pirates on all seven seas, so he never saw a need to make anyone, be them soldier or buccaneer.

He never thought he’d be the one walking to his own death off a flimsy piece of wood.

Granted, he may have been a bit overconfident when the Tainted Revenge first fired upon them, but he won every battle he’d ever entered into. It had never been overconfidence, just a factual statement that he’d win, that is… until now. He’d treated this as any other battle he fought, with the fierce determination to win, unwilling to accept defeat, with complete confidence in his crew. He only took on the best, so Katsuki thought it impossible for them to lose.

It seemed that death had finally caught up to him, having evaded it for so long. Pirates’ lives were grand and full of adventure, but very often, they were also rather short.

“Captain, don’t!” Kirishima shouted, so strong the two men holding him were having trouble keeping him under control. A gag was immediately tied around his loyal first mate’s mouth, but Katsuki had already made his choice. Katsuki had already accepted Captain Shigaraki’s bargain, his life for his crews’. It was a choice Katsuki made without even thinking.

“How can I know you’ll spare them?” Katsuki asked instead, talking directly to Captain Shigaraki, trying to ignore his crews’ shouts and struggles. They had always been loyal to him, and he to them, and the scream that had echoed from all of them when he’d accepted had been one of the most awful noises he’d ever heard. But he refused to let them die when he could save them. “It’s not like a dead man can hold you to your word.”

“Captain!” Mina screamed, causing the blonde bitch holding her to put her sword to her throat, giggling like a madwoman. The bloodlust in her eyes just intensified his resolve to save them.

Shigraki smirked, as if amused by his question. Instead of answering him directly, the bastard turned to another member of his crew. “Magne, prepare the lifeboat.”

Shigaraki turned back to him. “There’s an island a few clicks away from here. It’s uninhabited, but there’s enough life for a signal fire. Once they’re on the water, they’re out of my hands.”

Katsuki knew that would be the best deal he’d get. “Put them on first. Then I’ll walk.”

“Uh, uh, ah.” Shigaraki sneered. “If I do that, they’ll just row over and grab you. Would make the deal a bit moot.”

“I’m not dying before they’re freed.” Katsuki said, stepping up to Shigaraki showing no fear. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t do anything if Shigaraki tried, but he refused to show this sadistic bastard what he wanted. If he was going to die, he was going to die with his pride intact.

“Captain, please don’t!” He could hear the tears in Kaminari’s voice. The young boy was the newest member of his trusted crew, just a simple cabin boy, but the best one he’d ever had, if a little constantly distracted.

“Fine.” Shigaraki rolled his eyes. “I’ll put them on, but I’m not lowering them until I’m sure you’re dead.”

Katsuki took the last long look at his crew. A third man had to join to keep holding Kirishima back, even with the sword at his throat. Mina was crying as the blonde bitch held her too close for Katsuki’s liking, Denki was too, his body trembling in the scarred bastard’s grip. Shinsou was trying to staunch a bleeding wound in Sero’s leg, but they still kept looking up at him in terror. They saw him as unbeatable, and it broke his heart that this was the last time they’d ever see him.

He gave them a smile that was a little too shaky to be as confident as he wanted it to be, and then turned and gave Shigaraki a nod. His crew screamed again as they were thrown roughly into the lifeboat the woman had already prepared. Kirishima tried to rush them but three swords were pointed at his crew in seconds. “Eijirou, stand down!” Katsuki commanded, and Kirishima looked up at him, broken-hearted. “You know your duty. Keep them safe.”

Kirishima just stared at him, the grief so powerful in his eyes, Katsuki had to look away. Shigaraki then pushed him roughly so he stumbled towards the edge of the boat, where the plank lay, as inviting as a siren’s call. “Go on then.”

Katsuki’s heart sped up in fear, but he held firm. He wouldn’t die a coward. He wouldn’t.

The plank was a pathetic piece of wood, and the first step he took made a horrible creaking sound. He hoped he’d be able to walk all the way to the end before it collapsed. If he was going to die, then it was going to be on his terms. Walking on something so narrow with his hands bound was more difficult than he thought it would be, so he took it a little slow, his steps sure and careful. As he walked, he whispered the mantra he’d taught every member of his crew. It was from the first sea shanty he’d learned as a pirate, and the way he’d lived his life on the sea.

“Oh hurry up already, before I get bored!” Shigaraki shouted, startling him a little, causing him to wobble. His steps got a little faster but he tried to keep his cautious approach.

It was the longest walk of his life, but it was only a few short steps until he reached the end. He took a breath, held his head high, and spun on his ankles to face the bastards, but his eyes were only on his crew. Crimson met red, black, yellow, black and purple.

“Never shall we die.”

He jumped.

Panic hit him the second he hit the water. Katsuki had grown up on the ocean, his parents silk merchants who often took him with them as they went from port to port. He’d learned to swim before he’d learned how to spell his own name. But now all those years of expertise were useless, his body jerking out with no traction, his legs directionless as he tried to get back up to the surface. He’d breach the surface for a moment before the ocean’s current would rise again and he couldn’t tread water to keep from being pushed down all over again. Holding his breath was his last resort, trying to take as big of a breath as he could when his head was above the surface but the rolling waves were coming too fast. He could hear voices he knew but the water pushed him down before he could decipher them, and his legs were quickly losing energy to be able to keep himself afloat. His wrists strained on the ropes, trying desperately to get out, but the fiber just dug into his skin, rubbing his wrists raw, the salt of the ocean stinging him as water shoved itself down his throat. Energy drained out of him as he began to sink under the waves, his legs kicking out without strength before going completely limp. He could see the sun shining down on the water, the bright light with its shining rays getting dim as his eyes fluttered. A few bubbles escaped his lips, taking the last bit of air he had, and his last thought was a prayer that his sacrifice was worth it, that his crew, his friends would live on even if he didn't. Darkness claimed him as he sank down into the depths of Davy Jones locker.

Katsuki could feel the touch of fingers on his cheek, gentle as they turned his face a little, and a little pressure on his chest had him coughing up the water in his lungs. Air that wasn’t laden with water passed his lips and he took a breath he didn’t think he’d ever take again. A presence, the fingers owner, was talking to him he thought, but he couldn’t understand the voice at all. But it sounded… it sounded…

Ethereal

Breaking the salt crusting his lids shut, Katsuki’s eyes fluttered to see something his drowned mind couldn’t understand. The sun shone around this stranger like a halo, making the white and red sparkle in the light, but blue as bright as ice and gray like a fierce storm captivated him. He’d never seen such eyes. There was a gentleness in them, though it was guarded with caution. An uncoordinated hand went to reach for the stranger’s face but another hand caught it. The hand was cool, cooler than he’d ever felt a hand be before. His brow furrowed. What… who…

A loud sound caught the stranger’s attention, and his eyes went wide as he saw the stranger shrink back. They weren’t wearing a shirt, and their muscles were on full display, with Katsuki able to see each one of their abs as they went down, down, down until they reached… a tail. Katsuki blinked hard, and still saw the fish tail, the scales enmeshed with their skin. Katsuki’s head swam again, getting dizzy from the sight. The stranger looked down at him again, and with a sadness he didn’t understand, the stranger then crawled away on their hands quickly, and threw themselves back into the water, white and red tail fins high before disappearing under the water. Katsuki stared for another long moment, unable to comprehend what he’d just seen.

It was only then he realized his hands were no longer bound, and another uncoordinated hand came to his wrist, which was still red and raw from the ropes. He could still feel the dried salt on his skin, could feel his waterlogged clothes still glued to him, the water in his ears throwing off his equilibrium, the sand on literally every part of his body, and he just didn’t understand, couldn’t. The stranger was his savior, one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen in his life, but his guardian angel was something he could barely describe. There was a word for what he’d just seen, but his mind just couldn’t connect what he’d seen to that particular word. He had to go after them, had to go after his angel.

Weak arms tried to push upwards, but he barely got his chest up before he crashed back down to the ground. It should not have taken so much energy to move, but his reserves of energy were spent again, and his eyes fluttered shut. The sound of the waves that drowned him rang in his ears, but his mind began to slip back into darkness, unable to keep himself awake. With his eyes closed and sleep infecting his body like a virus, he missed white and red popping back out of the water, staring at him as he lay on the beach.

“Katsuki!”

Katsuki whimpered from the pitch of the scream, his ears sensitive to the noise, wanting to sink back into sleep. In sleep there was no feeling of being like a dried fish, crusted with salt and stiff from the sun. Moving his whole body was too much energy, so he hoped just turning his head to the side would be enough. But then he heard knees crash to the ground, and the sun was blocked from further drying out his form.

“Katsuki, oh god, Katsuki, fuck, how did you- we thought we lost you, oh my god.” Tears were streaming down his first mate’s face, but the watery smile was so powerful that Katsuki had a hard time focusing on his face. Katsuki was then lifted into a strong embrace with corded muscles holding him tight. “I can’t believe you’re alive. I thought… we thought… alive, you’re alive, god, I can’t believe it.” Kirishima pressed a kiss to his hair, the spikes fluffing up as they dried. And then a couple more in his desperation.

“S’itty hair.” Katsuki croaked out, and then he had to turn to his side to cough out a little more water, his lungs aching in his chest.

Kirishima patted his back gently until the fit subsided, letting him gasp until it was just air, and then held him close once again.

“You’re alive.” Kirishima whispered, holding his head gently, Katsuki without the strength to hold himself up. “You’re alive.”

“Al’ve.” Katsuki gasped, attempting for a smile. Kirishima just gave a watery laugh, shaky and overwhelmed, and pressed their foreheads together. Katsuki’s eyes fluttered shut as they took a moment to breathe together. Air had never tasted so sweet.

“You know, when you said never shall we die, I didn’t think you meant literally.” Kirishima breathed a chuckle, still obviously shaken over what happened. Honestly, so was Katsuki.

“N’ther did I.” Katsuki choked out, trying to laugh this all off, but tears poured down his face before he could stop them. Kirishima pulled him into the nape of his neck, holding him together as Katsuki sobbed with what breath he had. Kirishima pulled his body close to his own, cradling Katsuki in his arms, gently massaging at the back of his head, scratching lightly at his hair, whispering soft comforts and encouraging him to just let himself cry. Katsuki hated crying, but these tears were irrepressible, and he broke down in a way he’d never thought he could.

Katsuki had heard stories of drowning, but none of them compared to what actually happened, how someone actually drowned. Drowning was so painful, so terrifying, it was almost enough to keep him from ever going on the ocean again. Katsuki wasn’t sure how long he cried out his fears into his first mate’s embrace, but eventually his sobs subsided into coughing, heavy breaths.

Acting as if nothing had happened, Kirishima stood, standing with such strength he brought Katsuki up with him. This is why Katsuki had chosen him to be first mate, he knew Katsuki best, as well as their crew. “Come on, captain. Let’s get you home with us.”

Katsuki flopped his arm around Kirishima’s shoulders, and Kirishima took his hip, a position they’d been in many times over the years. It was the closest Katuski got to letting people help him, not wanting to show any weakness as the captain of the Howitzer. But this time Katsuki was so spent and felt so shitty that he just let Kirishima drag him, his feet barely pushing him forward as he tried to walk. He knew it was scaring his first mate, but he couldn’t do anything else. He just had nothing left.

He was halfway to unconsciousness when he heard another shout from voices he recognized, this one of joy. A body wrapped around him, and then another, and then he lost track of all the bodies in his personal bubble. Questions were thrown at him too rapidly for him to understand, and they only stopped when Kirishima loudly cleared his throat.

“Guys, back off.” Kirishima said authoritatively. “He’s been through a lot. Give him some space.”

“But how did he survive, Kiri?” Kaminari said, redirecting his question. “He should’ve drowned, how could he have gotten here, and before us?”

“M’rman.” Katsuki panted, leaning too heavily into Kirishima as black spots teased at his vision.

“Did he just say merman?” Kaminari breathed, shock all over his face. “Like merpeople? Like half fish, half hot person merpeople?”

“Denki, back off, now.” Shinsou said, grabbing Katsuki’s other arm to sling over his shoulder. “He needs rest right now, more than we need answers. He probably got sun sickness laying out there as long as he did.”

Kirishima and Shinsou then grabbed Katsuki’s thighs and lifted him into the air a little, his head lolling to the side limply. The fact that Shinsou could take charge in a crisis was one of the reasons he’d chosen Shinsou for his crew, to tend what medical aid he could. He wasn’t a doctor, but he’d been trained in several arts by a teacher even Katsuki respected. They carried him over to somewhere much shadier, and then set him down on some soft dirt, propped up against a tree. This was the best he’d felt since the battle.

“Help me get his clothes off.” Shinsou said, already starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Shinsou, don’t, you know how he is when it comes to stuff like that.” Kirishima hesitated, placing a hand on Shinsou's shoulder. Even when half-dead, Katsuki could appreciate his first mate's desire to protect him. Kirishima knew he never liked anyone seeing him undressed. He was unashamed of his body, but he was Captain. He was always supposed to be strong, put together, collected. His crew looked to him for strength, and being undressed and vulnerable wasn't strong.

“Staying in these wet clothes is worse for him, he needs to dry off completely, he’ll get sicker.” Shinsou said, Kirishima not even breaking his focus. “Besides, his shirt is white, it’s not like we can’t see everything anyways.”

Kirishima sighed but nodded. His first mate then got his boots off, pulling a noise from him as he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable his boots were until they were off. Kirishima then cupped his cheek, trying to reassure him. Shinsou removed his scarf, and then his shirt, Katsuki completely limp as his crew maneuvered his body, blinking in and out of consciousness. He didn’t even notice them taking his pants off, but he could feel that they were done when they got to his undergarments and he was grateful to his crew for that anyways. Katsuki never liked being undressed, even around his crew, the concept too vulnerable to let anyone see, so his muddied mind was at least grateful for the gesture. He drifted when he felt hands stop touching him, voices unintelligibly whispering around him.

A soft cloth with cool water then touched his forehead, gently brushing across his face, drawing him weakly back to consciousness. After his closed eyes were done, he opened them to see Mina with a bowl of water. River water it felt like, since there wasn’t any salt residue left over and it was washing that same salt from his face. River water had never felt so good on his skin. He tried for a smile, wanting to thank her but without the strength to speak.

“It’s okay, captain, we’ve got you.” Mina said, kissing his cheek. “We’ll figure out how to get out of here. It’s our turn to protect you. You can rest now.”

That brought out a genuine, if exhausted, smile. Tomorrow, when he was more coherent, had more strength, he’d tell his crew the tale of his guardian angel, of how he was rescued, and what he thought he’d been rescued by. But for now, his eyes just closed, and he drifted to sleep, completely confident that his crew would get them out of this. Instead of the nightmares he was prone to, tonight he dreamt of his angel with those incredible eyes and inexplicable tail.

Whumptober day 24 - Secret Injury; 25 - Humiliation; 26 - Abandoned

Another fill for @whumptober2019​, and another one that’s pre-WinterIron and an amalgamation of multiple prompts. It’s also available on Ao3.

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

"Never again," Clint groaned.

From around the Quinjet there were sounds of agreement, though none of them had the energy to do more than that.

Today's battle had been simply awful, and none of them had gotten out of it without at least a few bruises, if not worse. Hours upon hours of fighting meant they were also completely exhausted.

Most of them had collapsed where they'd been standing when the fight finally ended. Bucky and Natasha had held on by a single stubborn thread, but Tony had carried all of the others to the Quinjet in the armor, trying to get them as comfortable as possible before getting behind the controls and starting to fly them back somewhere they would have medical attention they could trust.

Once he had the jet in the air and set to fly under JARVIS' control for a while, Tony stared out of the window for a little while. Then, shutting his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, he got up again.

The Quinjet might not have a large amount of medical supplies, but it did have some emergency things stocked. "J, keep track and order new supplies." He knew he didn't have the energy at the moment to make note of whatever he was using, let alone remember it to replace it later. Fortunately, that was why he had JARVIS.

Sam was the first he saw to, if only because the gash on his arm still hadn’t stopped bleeding. He honestly didn’t imagine it would without stitches, but it was at least important to staunch the flow a little. So, after rinsing it out quickly to make sure there would be as little dirt in there as possible, he smeared some disinfectant cream over there and wrapped it up. The doctors would do better later, but for now it was important to keep him from bleeding too much.

“Any other big wounds?” he asked, managing to sound far less tired than he felt.

“Nothing open,” Sam admitted. “Bruises, wrist might be sprained or broken.”

Grabbing one of the multitudes of cold packs was quickly done, and after putting it down on Sam’s wrist and seeing him relax, Tony moved on to Steve. His supersoldier healing was already at work repairing the damage, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot of it.

It took some bandages and cold packs, but soon Steve relaxed at least some. Bucky had the same deal, though he did admit his leg might be broken as well. Since he honestly didn’t know enough to be sure of how to set a leg so it’d heal right, Tony just made a mental note to have it checked out by a doctor as soon as possible.

Slowly but surely, he worked his way through all of them. Most of his work involved applying cold packs to wherever things hurt the most and hoping it’d help with the pain at least a little, since he didn’t want to play with medicine when the doctors might need to give some of them something and it could possibly interact. He did at least notice some of their strain easing a little, so he had to be doing something right.

Finally, Bruce only needed a blanket - the Hulk had taken damage, but that didn’t transfer to Bruce. But he was even more exhausted than usual, not even responding when Tony gently eased him up a little to drink a meal replacement shake. It was cautious work when he wasn’t entirely conscious, and Tony almost wanted to skip it, but he knew the Hulk spent enough energy that leaving Bruce to just sleep it off might mean he’d end up in the medical wing anyway due to a dangerously low blood sugar level. At least this way, he wasn’t in immediate danger, though it was likely he could still use an infusion for the first few hours.

“Dude… How?” Clint groaned as he finally stepped away from Bruce, empty packet in his hand.

“Regular insomniac,” Tony told him with a fair attempt at a grin.

“And a suit that protects you extremely well,” Sam noted, managing to sound both complementary and a little jealous.

“Regular genius insomniac,” he allowed. He couldn’t say he was too surprised when both Clint and Sam graced him with a look only slightly better than if they’d stuck out their tongues. His huff was close enough to laughter that it made both of them glare playfully. “You’re just jealous.”

“Very,” Sam deadpanned, but since Clint hissed out a “Yesssssssss” at the same time, he didn’t take it to heart.

“I mean, our protective suits are great, but it’s gotta help when you’ve got your mechanical suit to do a lot of the fighting.”

Tony just grinned at them. He was well-aware of how easy it was to assume the suit did most of the work, especially since he usually managed to look pretty bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even after a long fight. It wasn’t always ideal, but he preferred it over having them worry about him.

Once they finally landed, he took them to medical one by one. Bruce, as expected, got an IV line and a bed to rest. He didn’t even wake up when Tony picked him up, so he was glad there were experts to look after Bruce now.

Sam got stitches for the gash in his arm and had, unfortunately, broken his wrist. Once that was taken care of, the doctors ended up setting a couple of bones for both Bucky and Steve, though their healing would have to take care of the rest. Little by little, Tony watched as his teammates were taken care of, the doctors busily working around all of them as they switched tasks smoothly.

Perhaps, for situations like these, he should see if there was any more trustworthy personnel that could work on the Avengers? They were enough after regular missions, but now even the less human members of their team needed extensive treatment.

Still, he was sure they were in good hands.

Abandoning them to the care of the doctors, Tony headed off to his workshop. Once the door closed behind him, JARVIS immediately spoke up. “Sir…”

“I know.”

Now that he didn’t have the others to worry about worrying, he didn’t bother putting in effort to keep the strain from his voice. Instead, he stumbled over to the corner he’d designed for when taking the armor off on his own was either too much or simply impossible.

“I would advise you to see a doctor, Sir,” JARVIS informed him as he went to work gently removing the armor.

“They’re busy with the others,” Tony dismissed him. “Not to mention that, even if my ribs are bruised or broken, there’s not a lot to do except take pain medication and cooling it.”

“They would be able to tell if anything was displaced, however. Not to mention there appear to be some other injuries as well that should be checked out, including but not limited to a possible fracture in your left arm and a sprained or broken right ankle.” JARVIS was matter-of-fact about it, and Tony knew he was right. He didn’t think anything was too bad, but without a scan, there was simply no way of being certain.

Still, he shook his head. “I’ll just take it easy for now. They’ve got the others to worry about. I’ll go see them later.”

It was obvious JARVIS disapproved, but rather than push it, he simply guided DUM-E to support Tony for a quick toilet visit before moving over to the couch. Then, he encouraged the ‘bot to grab some cold packs for the injured areas, as well as some bottled water. Tony was grateful for it, resolving to do something nice for his creations when he was feeling better.

One advantage of the suit was certainly that it tended to keep his bones in place, meaning he wasn’t too worried about anything starting to heal wrong. Especially in the few hours it would take for the doctors to take the best care of the others.

He dozed off a few times, but only slightly. The pain made it impossible to truly relax, and every breath hurt just enough to keep him awake despite his exhaustion.

“Sir, the doctors are done with taking care of the others,” JARVIS alerted him.

As he started to get up, he found that he simply… couldn’t. The exhaustion and pain made it so he could hardly even move his mostly uninjured right arm, let alone the rest of his body. So rather than getting up like he knew he should, he just remained where he was.

“Sir?”

He wasn’t too sure what to say. ‘I can’t move’ was incredibly embarrassing, but he’d also sort of promised to go see the doctors once they were free. “I… think my body might be a bit done with today?” he settled for, grimacing a little at how silly that sounded. “I’m trying, but…”

Before he could get too worried, or doze off again - it was honestly a toss-up at the moment - JARVIS announced he had a visitor. “Sergeant Barnes is at the workshop door, Sir.”

Frowning in confusion, Tony couldn’t help but let out a surprised “why?”.

“From what I can gather, he appeared concerned for you upon noticing you weren’t in the medical wing with everyone else. He then asked me if you were on your floor or in the workshop, and I informed him the latter was the case.”

Part of Tony was embarrassed to be seen like this, but another part of him was honestly warmed that Bucky had actually worried about him. It was that part that won out, nodding to JARVIS for permission to let the supersoldier in.

Of course, he regretted it almost immediately when Bucky frowned with concern, sharp eyes noting the multitude of cold packs that DUM-E had kept regularly taking off and reapplying.

“How hurt are you?” was the first question he asked, moving straight past worrying and into caring.

“I was going to see the doctors after they were done with all of you,” Tony justified himself.

At that, Bucky’s eyes softened just a little. “Not blaming you - your body, your choice. Not gonna pretend I like it, but you do what you think is best. Just worried about you.” He stepped closer, giving DUM-E a pat on his claw as the ‘bot came to say hello. “Docs are done with us though - nothing left to do but wait for everything to heal now. Steve and Thor are keeping an eye on the others for now, since we’re mostly healed already.”

His face felt like it was burning up, though he wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or embarrassment. “I… can’t move,” he admitted, and yeah, it was humiliation.

Despite the way worry sharpened his eyes, Bucky remained gentle and respectful. “Do you… I mean, are you okay with me helping you over there? Or is there anything else I can do?”

And yes, he was incredibly embarrassed. Ever since he’d been young, he’d been taught that needing help was weak, and that he should be able to do things on his own no matter what. But even though there was nothing he could do at the moment, even though his body didn’t even listen to him, Bucky did. Rather than let his concern take over, he asked Tony what he wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind that Bucky would respect his decision even if he decided to just keep sitting there.

It was that respect that enabled him to overcome his embarrassment enough to nod just a little. “I… If you could? Support me?”

He didn’t think he’d be able to handle Bucky carrying him, no matter how much that might be the wiser option for his ribs. And rather than argue, Bucky just nodded, gently helping him off the couch and supporting him as much as possible while still allowing him to stand on his own.

If he had to pinpoint it, that was the moment that started to transform his basic attraction into more.

Whumptober: One Down, Two To Go

Raphael hit the ground hard when Leonardo flipped him, but bounced back to his feet almost immediately, spinning his older brother around and trying to land a good hit.

The elder twisted out of his grasp, dancing around him with a wild grin. He hopped closer, grabbed Raphael and kneed him in the plastron, hard, right where the bony plates intersected. Raphael doubled over in pain with a gasp, leaving Leonardo to lunge forward, grab him by the shoulders, and shove him down.

He rolled him onto his plastron, pinned his arms behind his back, and waited. After a few seconds of waiting, Raphael sighed and went limp, but smiled nonetheless.

“I still can’t beat you? How many hours of training are you sneaking in?” he joked as Leonardo stood and helped him up.

“You’d be surprised,” Leonardo rumbled, stepping back. “Good to know you finally don’t beg for rematches.”

“I did not!”

“You did every time you lost, Raph.”

Raphael huffed, but smiled anyway, and started walking away. “Yeah yeah… I’m talking to the golden child here, what’d I expect?”

“Hey!”

Leonardo scoffed indignantly, still following him. The two flopped down on the couch with a sigh, and while Leonardo flipped on the TV, Raphael looked through a pile of comics that he hadn’t read in a while. Like, a really long while. Seriously, when was the last time that he had read these? He hummed softly as he flipped through smooth paper and softened edges, listening to some movie that his brother decided to put in. It took him a couple moments to realize that it was in Japanese and looked up to find that Leonardo was playing Spirited Away, an old favorite of the family. Well, that wasn’t too surprising.

His gaze trailed over to said brother, and fixated on the scars on his throat and plastron. Generally, they all agreed to avoid looking at or talking about them, but sometimes they slipped up, and once they did one of those things, they couldn’t stop thinking about what happened then.

None of them knew what happened really. Leonardo had a bad habit of brushing off trauma and downplaying injuries, both mental and physical, so he never answered them honestly about what happened, and they stopped asking.

The question burned in his mind and tasted bitter on his tongue. Raphael wanted so badly to know, to finally ask about what happened and strangle a straight answer out of his older brother. He had tried to hold it back, he really did, but in the end, it just popped out all on his own, as much as he tried to rein in his tongue.

“What actually happened, Leo?”

“What?” Leonardo looked to Raphael with a calm expression, seeming completely unbothered by this question.

“Those scars, when we had to run from the city?” Raphael pointed at the scars on his chest and throat, and Leonardo’s breathing hitched. “You still haven’t told us what happened.”

“Raph, that’s not something I’d like to talk about right now-”

“It’s been years of dodging that question!”

“It’s just a sensitive topic. I don’t push if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s a lie. We both know it is. Besides, don’t you think that we deserve to know? Y’know, after it put you in a coma?” Okay, maybe that was a low blow, bringing that up. But Leonardo was being ridiculous about this. He darted around that question like his life depended on it, always running from telling them the truth.

Leonardo kept his gaze for a long couple of seconds, face unreadable, before he sighed. “You really-?”

“Yes.” Raphael’s answer was without hesitation. He closed the comic he had, set it down, and leaned forward with his hands clasped together. “I want to know, Leonardo.”

“Oh wow,” The elder brother joked with a little smirk, “My full name, how frightening.” Then, he sighed and paused the movie, resting his chin in his hand. “Well, you see…”

Leonardo sliced through two more bots and squinted. This wave of enemies was down, but he could see another coming along. He’d have to move further, create some distance to get ready and keep them away from his family.

So he did. He turned and ran past the fences, through the open gaps he thought might lead somewhere. The bots caught up, though. They always did. It didn't matter how fast he ran, they were just faster.

To be fair, they weren't even alive. They were just robots, inexhaustible soldiers. Meanwhile, his strength was running out. As the battle dragged on longer, his exhaustion grew. When his initial energy ran out, he began to run on bursts of adrenaline, grabbing the ribbons of it like a lifeline.

If he fell or slowed down, he would die.

A chain wrapped around his wrist and pulled him back, slamming him against the wall and holding him there. A bot ran at him and his fear flared, right before he cut through them and pulled the person keeping him stationary right through the wooden fence.

Distantly, he was aware of the pain that flowered in his arm like a rose, static that engulfed his forearm, but that wasn't important. He needed to stay alive.

Snow fell leisurely as he moved along, and he shivered. At that rate, he was going to stop moving, and he needed to keep running, especially when-

20 arrows were pointed at them, and he let out a shaky breath. People behind him, hot on his trails, and archers aiming his way. Great, lovely, just wonderful.

Leonardo ducked and dodged around arrows, narrowly missing getting hit as he threw kunai at the heads of the archers. He whirled around for just a moment to bring his swords down in a deadly dance on the enemies behind him, then took out the last of the archers, breathing hard by the end of it.

They were done, right? He had finished with the bowmen and assassins? He could go home? God, he hoped so. He was so tired already, the snow and fighting were not a good combination for his energy levels.

A bot that he thought was dead, only held together by strings and wires, suddenly reached up and grabbed his ankle. They yanked it, hard, and he went tumbling, hitting multiple rocks and boulders before falling into icy water with a short gasp.

It pricked at his skin and he could already feel his limbs going numb as he sank. He couldn’t let go, yet. He had to just keep swimming up and up, and make sure that he finished what he had started. Leonardo kicked and struggled, swimming back to the dock and latching onto it as he broke the surface, gasping for air. The winter air was considerably warmer than the water that drained off him before he rolled onto the ground.

Maybe he could let himself have just a minute to breathe. Just one minute.

A minute of rest was not a privilege he got. Leonardo heaved himself back onto his feet when he felt eyes on him, hands already curled into fists and eyes narrowed.

Freaking Shredder was looking down at him, like he wasn't even worth a second of his time.

Leonardo swallowed back a snarl and raised his chin. "Face me, Shredder!"

Tigerclaw looked to Shredder for guidance, received a nod, and smirked. The three henchmen jumped down, and Leonardo was on the ground almost immediately. Pain shot through multiple places, made worse by the fact he was already sensitive from the cold.

A burn turned to a flaring inferno and he screamed, loud and wordless in anger. He lunged forward, throwing Razhaar into the water and slamming Fishface to the ground. Leonardo whirled to face Tigerclaw, landing a good hit on his torso and taking him down, then threw him after Fishface.

The adrenaline faded as he gasped. They were down, they were down, they were-

He froze, and stared at the shadow in the snow. Slowly turning, Leonardo came face to face with Shredder for an embarrassingly short period of time. Agony burst in his throat, and he realized he was falling for just a moment, before everything went dark.

Raphael’s beak scrunched with anger, his eyes ablaze, hands trembling with rage. “What?” he hissed, “Leo, that’s not even a fair fight!”

“Raph, don’t-”

“No, Leo, you don’t get it! Well, you probably do, but that’s just- That’s wrong in so many different ways!"

“So what? It happened a long time ago. Don't do anything you'll regret, it's not worth it." And there it was, that tone as he tried to calm Raphael down. It only furthered his wrath, that Leonardo was being so calm about all this. Why? How?

"...Fine." Raphael growled, trying to swallow his indignance. Like agreeing was going to stop him.

%%%

Raphael reached down to the facepaint, then smeared it around his eyes, a backup just in case the mask didn't do well enough. He closed the container back up, retreating to the dojo to gather his weapons.

Shredder had been cruel to his brother. Raphael thought it only fair to make him feel the same pain.

He closed the closet, backed away, and ran into the sewers. Shredder would feel pain, Raphael would make sure of that.

A thump came from behind him, before somebody ran beside Raphael and cut in front of him. Leonardo stood before him, arms crossed and staring right through him. Raphael's anger boiled up when his older brother spoke, and he forced himself to swallow it before he said something stupid. He did enough of that daily.

"I said not to do something you would regret."

"And? That was an unfair fight, something should be done!"

"It won't change anything."

"Leo! This is-!"

"Raph, speaking as the injured party; No."

"But-"

"Listen, this will only hurt you and the people around you. Don't. I'm still holding you to your word. Didn't you say just a couple hours ago that you wouldn't go after Shredder?"

Raphael deflated, shriveling back under Leonardo's icy gaze. "I just wanted…"

"Go home, Raph. Take a cold shower, drink something, and head to sleep. What do you think we'd do if you died?"

Raphael stilled. If he went against Shredder alone, he would die. He would leave them to grieve. "Oh," he breathed.

Leonardo reached forward and grabbed his arm. "You stink, Raph. Wash that stuff off you, we need to go home."

The hothead nodded, wordless. That time, he meant it.

goodbye note / neglect / I thought they were with you (I’ve got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule)

"What the hell is this?" Faye demanded of no one.

Jet was gone - he'd left hours ago without telling her what he was up to but the determination in his expression had made her hopeful that he was going after Spike. Then again, he could just be on the hunt for parts to repair the ship for all she knew. He had been so angry in their last exchange... well, it was a front anyway and he let it collapse by the time their conversation had ended. Spike made everyone hotheaded it seemed, while discussion of Julia was a much cooler topic. Perhaps that was because they had no skin in her game. Except Spike himself.

Was he dead? Was he hurt? Did he need her to come rescue him again?

She'd do it in a heartbeat. How much trouble could it be to navigate without the right thruster? She'd managed well enough in the dog fight, after all.

Where was anyone? What the hell had happened since she left them on Earth?

The smiley face grinning up from the flight deck had caught her eye but slipped her mind in the wake of her uncomfortable need to relay Julia's message and then in her haste to defend the ship. She'd assumed Ed was just being goofy... standing up on the bridge of the downed ship, able to at last truly take in not just the cheerful image but the loathsome words scrawled out as well... 

Faye was midway through chainsmoking her entire pack of cigarettes by the time Jet returned. She'd found a dusty bottle hidden behind the fridge as well - at some point Spike had obviously restocked his secret stash, or else Doohan had never actually collected on the liquor. Either way, it was Faye's now. Despite having drained a significant portion of the contents, she felt frustratingly clearheaded yet still depressingly confused about what she'd missed in her absence. The lack of life on the ship was impossible to ignore... no clicking of keyboard keys, no nonsensical rhymes being sung, no dog farts or nails scratching on the metal floor, no youth to remind the others of innocence and optimism, no animal to inspire them to be responsible caretakers of another living soul.

She waited for Jet to hobble over to her position, standing vigil by a message that broke her heart, before gesturing angrily at the red paint of the goodbye note.

"What the fuck is this? I thought they were with you."

Jet scowled at her and grabbed at the bottle. Since it hadn't served to get her drunk, she let his hand close around the neck of it and take it for himself to chug.

The amount he put away on his first drink was concerning. Had he gone after Spike? Had he... found Spike?

"She left. Think the dog went at the same time. Back on Earth, back when you bailed on us too. Went chasing after her father, I assume. Asinine thing to do considering the guy could have criminal charges against him just for neglect." He took another swig and then sighed heavily.

Faye's mind was spinning. A sudden spasm of guilt seized her heart. Was this... could Ed have.... she'd been in such a manic state after her memories came back in a landslide that left her reeling. There was a vague recollection saying something to Ed... her emotions had been all over the place, her thought process focused on one goal - the goal that had driven her since waking up in this lonely future. There had been a flame of hope flickering to life within her, a desperate longing for the place she finally remembered as home - somewhere to belong, and people who cared about her. For real cared about her, not just put up with her. 

She was a fucking fool. She'd gotten herself so excited, had believed things were finally going to fall into proper place... she'd even inspired Ed to make moves of her own. It was all her fault the girl was gone. The Bebop had been a shelter for them both, had been a place where they were fed and given places to sleep and made to feel welcome. She'd thrown it all aside in a mad bid for a reality that did not exist. And she'd convinced Ed to try her luck at... at what? Tracking down some asshole who couldn't care for her like Jet did? For some jerk who didn't look out for her like Spike did? For the ludicrous words of a woman who had no right to say a damn thing, no authority to encourage such a wild departure from a stable life - even one so dangerous and destitute as the one they led here had still had more to offer than aimlessly roaming a barren countryside constantly at risk of lunar debris crashing down.

She nearly choked as she hit the filter on her latest cig. Spitting it out, she hurriedly lit another one and then, in a rare show of generosity that should have indicated to him the remorse she felt, offered one to Jet as well.

A head full of chemicals, a mouth full of ridicule... she didn't trust herself to speak.

They stood in silence, smoking and drinking, watching as the sun set on another brutal day of heartbreak and the eternal struggle to keep going.

She didn't know where Ed and Ein were. Couldn't bring herself to ask Jet if he'd found Spike.

There was an kernel of something positive in the lack of knowledge... in the chance that the ones missing were miraculously doing okay.