Tumgik
#whumpuary prompt twelve
fanfictasia · 4 months
Text
Whumpuary Prompt 12
“You’re Awake” / Rescue 
Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Nighttime Fear
He jolts back to consciousness, gasping.
“You’re awake!” Wrecker exclaims gleefully, scooping him into a hug. Hunter doesn’t even have the energy to grumble about it. He’s exhausted, and his head feels fuzzy from whatever sedatives that was, or maybe it’s from the surgery. It’ll take a while to click back, and until then, well, he’ll be stumbling around in a half sluggish state and hopefully not get anyone else killed.
“Yeah,” Hunter grumbles, face pressed against his little brother’s chest. “I’m awake.” It’s Tech’s turn now.
“You okay?” Wrecker asks, pulling back, expression worried.
Hunter sighs, trying to force the dreams from mind, but they stubbornly stay. Crosshair was hurting her. She’s just a child. “I dreamed again. More… vivid than usual.”
“Are you sure it’s a dream?” Anakin queries, turning to them.
“What do you mean?”
“It could have been a vision,” Anakin points out, “Your… specific connection to the Force does imply it could be a gift you have.”
He… didn’t know that, but there’s a lot of things Hunter doesn’t know about being a Jedi. That child – whoever she is – was hurting. Being hurt. By Crosshair. She needs them, but he doesn’t know what he could do.
“What’ve you been seeing?” Rex inquires, and he and Ahsoka approach them.
“I don’t even know who she is,” Hunter admits. Our brothers, she had said, but that doesn’t make any sense. Who’s the plural in that? “I’ve never seen her before, but there is something important about her.”
“Perhaps you don’t remember her,” Anakin suggests, “Or she will be important to you in future.”Hunter can’t imagine either, but something about it whispers with rightness in the Force. “Maybe,” he sighs. He doesn’t tell them the rest. Doesn’t tell them about Crosshair, even if he should. He doesn’t know how.
14 notes · View notes
medusapelagia · 4 months
Text
Running From The Daylight - Part 9
Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, (coming soon Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15)
Written for @whumpuary
Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Prompt: Make him stop WT: mention of violence, sick character Words: 982
Tumblr media
Steve shivers in his sleep and Eddie looks around, searching for more blankets, but everyone they have is already there, so he takes a wet towel from the bathroom and puts it on Steve’s forehead, trying to lower his fever. It’s the first time that Eddie has to take care of someone, Wayne never got sick and neither did Steve, they were always the ones who had to nurse Eddie back to health, but he keeps an eye on his boyfriend, watching his relaxed features and hoping that the rest will help him get better, but their pace is short-lived, as soon as Steve starts to have some fever dreams that seems far from pleasurable.
“Don’t hurt me! Please! Don’t hurt me!” he yells, trashing around, while Eddie desperately tries to stop him “Mom! Make him stop! Make him stop! Please! I didn’t do anything wrong!” He begs while Eddie tries to wake him up.
“Wake up, Steve, wake up. It’s just a dream. You are ok. Wake up! Please!” Eddie calls shaking his boyfriend until he finally opens his eyes and looks at him confused.
“Eddie? You ok?” Steve asks, trying to understand what happened.
“Yes, I’m ok. It was just a nightmare.” The older boy whispers, brushing away some hair from Steve’s sweating forehead.
Steve turns his head, looking around, and then asks “Where is he?” His eyes still shining with fever.
“Who, baby?”
“My father… Where is he?” He asks again, trying to move, his eyes wide with worry and panic, but Eddie stops him before he hurts himself.
“He is not here. It’s just the two of us, do you remember? We booked a fancy place to spend the holiday.”
“The chalet…” Steve murmurs with dry lips.
“Yeah… we are in the chalet.” Eddie reminds him gently.
“He is not going to get here, right?” The boy asks, searching for an answer on Eddie’s face, his face red with fever.
“No, baby. It’s just the two of us, I swear.”
“I will not let him hurt you.” Steve whispers, his voice small and broken.
“I know you will protect me, love. And I’ll do the same for you.”
“Don’t! Please don’t! He will beat you!” Steve begs and Eddie tries to calm him down.
“I will not, I will not, I promise! Now can you try to sleep a little bit? I’ll be here and I’ll wake you if you have any bad dreams. I promise.” 
Steve sighs “It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.” He says, lowering his eyes “I was young and stupid. I kissed Tommy at a Christmas party, we must have been twelve, or maybe even younger, and I was so happy that I told my mum that we kissed and that I was in love with him. She said to me not to tell that out loud but I was so happy, I thought my father would have been proud of me, he was always teasing me about not having a special friend… little did I know that he meant a girlfriend, not a boyfriend.” Steve murmurs.
Eddie kisses his forehead “I’m so sorry, babe.” 
“I haven’t thought about him in years. I don’t know why he came to my mind right now.”
Eddie knows that Steve has no contact with his parents and he is not surprised to know that Mr. Harrington has been an homophobic prick since Steve was a kid, but it still hurts seeing Steve being so upset even after years.
“No invitation for them to our wedding.” Eddie tries to lighten the air with a silly joke.
“Are you proposing, Munson? Because I see no ring.” Steve scoffs and Eddie smirks.
“I didn’t know you were so venal, Harrington! I thought that my feelings for you were more than enough and now you are asking me a ring?”
Steve smiles sadly “I would have married you even without a ring, you know that, right?”
Eddie's smile falters “And you will, baby. I want to spend all my life with you, wake up and see you drooling on your pillow is the best part of my day.” He tells him seriously, trying to make the other boy laugh, but Steve is far too serious.
“Ed, if I don’t make it I want you to find someone else.” He says to him looking deep into Eddie’s eyes and the other boy shakes his head in refusal.
“Stop it! There is no need to be so dramatic! I told you: I called Wayne, help is on the way, we just have to be patient.” Eddie insists.
“But if…”
“No, but. And no, I’m not going to find someone else because you are the love of my life, ok? And I don’t want anyone else. So keep your strength and stop saying stupid things.” Eddie scolds him, then he gets some water and helps Steve drink it. Humans can survive without food for a few days but they can’t survive without water, and Steve’s body is sweating far too much due to the fever.
The younger boy sips some water before falling asleep again, his body too worn out to stay awake. Eddie puts Steve’s head into his lap, singing something soft, hoping to help him have pleasant dreams. He can almost picture a young Steve telling his mum that he finally gave his first kiss only to be beaten and humiliated by his father. Eddie has never met Mr. Harrington, always on some business trip since he knows Steve, and he hopes he never will because he has a few words for him and they are not kind. 
Steve’s phone in Eddie’s pocket burns like fire, but Eddie resists the temptation to turn it on, trying to save more battery, even if all he would like to do right now is hear Wayne's comforting voice telling him that everything will be alright, because if Wayne says it he can almost believe it.
15 notes · View notes
melanie-ohara · 4 months
Text
Alive, Just to Watch the Bruises Heal
Whumpuary, day 11 - prompt: Exhaustion
Tumblr media
Commander Shepard suffers the consequences of her resurrection as invisibly as possible
AO3 Here
The new Normandy was disorientating. It used to be fifteen steps to the medbay door, now it was twenty. The table used to seat six, now there were twelve Cerberus personnel sitting and staring as Shepard crossed the floor. She ignored them and focused on putting one foot in front of the other without her limp being obvious, and tapped the 'knock' sensor on the door. 
"It's open," came a familiar voice from inside. Shepard was too tired to place it, but as soon as the door opened her face split into a wide grin.
"Doctor Chakwas!" 
"Hello, Commander," the doctor said. She was far too professional to give Shepard the hug she so sorely needed, but her wry smile was good enough for now. 
"What are you doing here? I never thought you'd work for Cerberus," Shepard asked.
Chakwas' expression turned hard. "I don't work for Cerberus, I work for you. I took a leave of absence from the Alliance to volunteer for Sirta."
Shepard looked at her properly - unlike the other personnel, Chakwas was wearing a red medical jumpsuit emblazoned with the Sirta Foundation icon. She nodded. "That's good. At least someone here isn't on the payroll."
Chakwas activated her omni-tool and started scanning Shepard with a warm orange beam that prickled slightly against her skin. "You don't trust them?" she asked.
"What are you doing?" Shepard asked, instead of answering. 
"I'm scanning your implants for rejection," Chakwas replied, frowning at the readout on her wrist. "And I don't like what I see, Commander."
"I'm fine," Shepard said, standing up straight and clasping her hands behind her back in case any of the crew happened to look through the window. Chakwas noticed, like Shepard knew she would. Put on a face, the world is watching.
"Rejection sensitivity will present as scarring," Chakwas said. "Which will hurt."
Shepard nodded. It already did, but she didn't need to say that out loud for Cerberus' bugs to hear. 
"Other than that, you're the picture of health. You should get some rest though."
Shepard snorted. "Your scans told you I'm sleepy ?" 
Chakwas smiled. "No, your eyes told me that. I imagine Cerberus has had you running around shooting things, against my medical recommendations?"
Shepard shrugged. "It's what they need me for," she said, failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice. 
"No, they need you to lead , Commander," Chakwas insisted, and switched off her omni-tool with a sigh. "Would it help if I ordered you to go to bed?"
Shepard grinned. "You're a civilian doctor now, remember? I can ignore your advice all I like." 
It was a front, and Chakwas knew it. Shepard needed to present a front for all the spyware and prying eyes on the other side of the glass: Commander Shepard, icon of humanity, indomitable, unkillable, steadfast in the face of any obstacle. Nobody could see how much her left leg hurt her, or the shooting pain that came from turning her head to the left, or the thrumming ache that had been pulsing behind her eye since she woke up on Lazarus Station. 
"As a favour, then?" Chakwas offered, and Shepard nodded. She could accept that. 
"If you insist," she said, and tried not to sound too grateful. She was more exhausted than she had ever been in her life. 
"I'll have EDI wake you when we reach Omega," Chakwas said, and Shepard thanked her on her way out. 
There was a camera in the elevator, and it made Shepard wonder if Lawson had bugged her quarters too. Cerberus wasn't big on privacy, so it wouldn't surprise her, but she hoped she'd at least get to sleep alone. There had to be somewhere she could let the mask drop. 
A discreet omni-tool scan as she entered the obnoxiously large living space revealed spy devices embedded in the clock, wardrobe interface, and the water monitor of the ridiculous fish tank. According to the scan, they were only recording sound, but she didn't trust a commercial VI to be accurate with military tech so she kept up her facade all the way to the ensuite bathroom. Thankfully, the scan was silent there. There could be bugs functioning outside of the detection range, but she no longer cared. 
Her limbs had never felt so heavy. She had been unconscious or worse for two years, but it felt more like she'd spent that time on a treadmill with a Widow sniper rifle strapped to her back. Her leg was in agony, but even that was dulled by the base need to collapse and sleep . There was something she had to do first though. Now that she'd allowed herself to feel the pain, limping to the sink was slow, and every step sent a sharp stab that jolted up from her knee to the base of her spine. Shepard let it slow her down for once.
The face that looked back at her in the mirror was her own, but not quite. She'd only seen herself in windows and brushed metal walls, but this confirmed what she already expected. Stitching her body back together had left her scarred, but she could handle that: it  was a small price to pay to cheat death, after all. Her old scars, though, the scars that she bore with a soldier's pride - they were all gone, wiped away by a facial reconstruction that was either based on an out of date image or, worse, corrected flaws. Shepard's fingers played slowly over the unnaturally clean skin where they used to be and felt tears come to her eyes. 
Her leg gave way. It had been threatening to go since Freedom's Progress, and she was relieved it had at least happened in private. Shepard stumbled backwards until her back was against the wall behind her and slid down, stretching her injured leg out in front of her. Her head lolled back into the corner and Commander Shepard cried. Her chest heaved and her breath came in sharp gasps - each one hurt as the implants holding her ribcage together complained. She was a half-broken half-machine with one purpose that she didn't feel like she could fulfill. All she wanted to do was sleep for a hundred hours. According to the clock in the other room, she had three. 
Eventually, the tears dried up. She seriously considered staying where she was and sleeping on the bathroom floor, but for the sake of both the monitoring devices and her aching body she knew she had to get to bed. Getting back to her feet was hard and painful work, but she managed it. Shepard wiped her eyes, forced her back to straighten, and ignored how much walking confidently out of the bathroom hurt. It wasn't far to the bed, and her vision was already narrowing until all she could see was the crisp white covers and an impossibly fluffy pillow. At least comfort was something Cerberus valued more than the Alliance. 
Shepard barely made it. She had to crawl onto the bed rather than walk all the way to the side, but that was natural enough - and crawling didn't hurt her leg nearly as much. As soon as her head met the pillow she felt the tension evaporate from her limbs and she let out a soft mumble as an impossible weight lifted from her shoulders. Now all she had to do was manage three hours without sleep-talking about how much it hurt. 
Shepard's eyes drifted closed.
"Commander Shepard?" the soft, flat voice of the ship's AI said. Shepard opened her eyes again.
"EDI?" she said. 
"We are arriving at Omega."
Shepard's heart sank into the shoes she was still wearing. The clock told her those precious three hours had been and gone, and she felt exactly the same. 
Sitting up took more effort than fighting Saren.
"Thank you, EDI," she said. Her voice sounded clear and relaxed. She took a moment to silent curse the galaxy in general, and then got out of bed.
10 notes · View notes