No.19 - Tumblr Posts

"I couldn't take it, couldn't stand another minute

Couldn't bear another day without you in it

All of the joy that I had known for all my life

Was stripped away from me the minute that you died

To have you in my life was all I ever wanted

But now without you, I'm a soul forever haunted

Can't help but feel that I had taken you for granted

No way in hell that I can ever comprehend this!"

~

-Red Like Roses, Jeff Williams

Whumptober No.19

...Well then. This was not how she planned to be spending her Tuesday afternoon... Dumb villains getting in the way of her going to the bookstore-

(Click for better quality)

Whumptober Prompt #19- Asphyixiation

...

“Are you cooking?”  Len’s voice startled him, making him nearly drop the spoon he was using to plate.

Barry rolled his eyes at him, showing his progress. He’d been able to create a grilled chicken masterpiece, only slightly burned, with an asparagus rice pilaf on the side right under Len’s nose.  Granted, the man had been napping but it still counted.

Len raised an eyebrow at him, expecting an answer.

“I wanted to do something nice for my partner.”  Barry shrugged, trying to stamp down his blush.

“And instead you cooked?”

Barry glared at him.

Len snickered, uncaring.

“I’m not a bad cook.”  He defended himself.  “I was able to survive on my own before you started cooking for me.”

Len almost never shared the kitchen, a remnant from his past, to be able to control everything that went into his body.  Barry understood that, but he did like cooking, even if his skills were rather limited in that area.

“You were living on instant ramen, microwavable meals, and protein bars when I met you, Barry Allen.”  Len said, unimpressed.  “You couldn’t cook to save your life.”

Barry frowned.  Len hadn’t known, couldn’t know, that Barry had no issues cooking but he hadn’t wanted to show Len just how much food he truly ate.  When they’d first met, he hadn’t been used to his powers, and kept everything of a high calorie count on hand, no matter how bad it was for him.  Now, he kept most of his caloric bars and extra food at STAR labs.  Caitlyn and Cisco didn’t mind, and understood his need to keep Len out of his life as the Flash.  He’d already ruined his friendship with Patty, he wasn’t going to ruin what he had with Len.  It was too important to lose.  His mother had once said true love only came knocking once, so he better answer the door.  And he was damn well answering Len’s knock.

“Well then, you’re just gonna have to try some.”  Barry said, holding out the spoon with some of the pilaf on it.  “After all, if my life depends on it…”

Len laughed, shoving his hand away.  “I don’t think it’s your life on the line here, Scarlet.”

Barry gaped, thoroughly offended.  “You bastard.”

Len’s smile made up for it though.  “Alright, Scarlet, finish up.  I’m gonna finish up my last project.  Meant to do it before I fell asleep.  Then I’ll brave dinner.”

Len leaned over and Barry met him in the middle, sharing a quick kiss.

“Dinner will be ready in five, you better be too.”  Barry said, smacking Len’s ass.  “Or I’m poisoning it on purpose.”

Len’s laugh echoed all around the kitchen as he went back into the living room.

Barry finished plating the chicken and pilaf as best as he could, stealthy watching a YouTube video on mute.  He had no sense of style but Len liked the more sophisticated stuff, his fancy job as an architectural engineer gave him plenty of cash on hand.  Barry would’ve thought it suspicious if he hadn’t met Len’s boss, a Captain Rip Hunter, a retired RAF.

Now with dinner finished and plated, Barry thought to himself that it looked pretty damn good overall.

“Lenny!”  Barry called.  “Dinner.”

“Coming, Scarlet!”  Len replied at the same volume.

Barry shook his head, thinking if only he knew that his partner was the Scarlet Speedster, instead of turning the color scarlet when blushing.  But he knew he had to keep Len in the dark, no matter how much Len hated lies.  Len couldn’t protect himself from the likes Thawne or Zoom so Barry had to do the protecting.

“Alright, Scarlet, let’s see what creature you’ve sewn together.”  Len said.  “I’ll try not to become deathly ill at the sight of it and grace you with a name.”

Barry rolled his eyes but his laughter bubbled up anyway.  He loved it when Len showed just how much of a nerd he was, it had taken him months to get past those walls.

Len cut into the chicken, admiring it.  “Not pink in the middle, promising sign.”

Barry stared with bated breath, watching Len try a bite.

“It’s good.”  Len smiled, looking impressed.

Barry couldn’t keep the sigh of relief inside him.  “I worked really hard on this.  This is my first time cooking for you on my own.  I wanted it to be perfect.”

Len’s eyes softened, and he took Barry’s hand.

“It’s not your fault I’m a control freak.”  Len sighed.

“You’re not a control freak.”  Barry protested.

Len raised an eyebrow in sarcastic disbelief.

“You’re not.”  Barry insisted.  “You had a rough time growing up, and you’ve got some defense mechanisms, some intense coping techniques, but you don’t try to control me.  You don’t say I can’t see Joe even though you don’t like him much, or that I can’t be friends with Cisco because he’s interested in your sister.  You like to control your surroundings, Len, you’re not a control freak.”

Len pulled him into a kiss, this one more passionate, more intimate.  He knew Len had a hard time letting down his walls, his abusive father, people who only pretended to care because it got them ahead, people who didn’t like Len’s love language, it had made Len very jaded and lonely.  Barry had been one of the only ones who understood why Len did the things he did, and didn’t judge him for it.  Len once told him that he’d never understood how someone as wonderful as Barry had put up with him for so long.  Barry hadn’t gone on patrol that night, thankfully Central City got along just fine without him, and had spent the night having a serious talk about how Len was the wonderful one and Barry was the problem in their relationship.  A lot of tears had been shed that night, on both accounts, and they’d come out nigh attached at the hip.  Barry had realized Len was knocking on his door, and he knew Len had realized the same.

“Scarlet, come back to me.”  Len said, already having pulled back.

Barry snapped out of his trance.  “Sorry.  Guess I got a little caught up in the moment.”

“We could always skip dinner.”  Len teased.  “I’m sure it’ll keep.  We could continue this in the bedroom.”

Barry shoved down all the ideas that came to his mind.

“No, I want a nice dinner with you.”  Barry said, clearing his throat and purging his mind.  “I put a lot of work into this and I’m not reheating it.”

“Then dinner it is.”  Len said, scooping up a bite of the pilaf.  “I would do anything if it made you happy, Barry Allen.”

A rush of feeling washed over Barry.  Len had made declarations of love like that before, but it always felt like the first time each time.  It always made Barry fall just a little more in love with Len.

A small gasp escaped Len’s lips.  Barry blushed, he couldn’t believe his first attempt at cooking for Len was going so well.  He couldn’t believe in the three years he’d been with Len he’d never cooked for the man.

“Scar- Scarlet?  What is this?”  Len cleared his throat, wiping his face with a napkin.

“Asparagus rice pilaf.”  Barry said, frowning at Len’s unusual mannerism.

Len pulled at his throat, clearly in discomfort.

“Are you okay?”  Barry asked, his own food abandoned.  He knelt beside Len.  “Lenny, what’s wrong?”

“Is- sesame seed?”  Len choked, unable to draw a full breath.

“I used some sesame seed oil.”  Barry guessed.  “Only a teaspoon.”

While the Flash may be what he loved most, he was still a CSI by day, and he knew anaphylaxis when he saw it.

“Do you have an Epi-Pen?”  Barry asked, his panic seeping into his voice.

Len shook his head.  “Know… how to… avoid.”

Len’s lips were turning blue, as well as the skin under his eye from lack of oxygen.  An ambulance wouldn’t get there in time.  Len needed medical help immediately or he was going to die.

So Barry did what he did best.  He scooped Len into his arms, and ran.

They arrived at the hospital within seconds, Len’s eyes realizing how they’d gotten there.

“Somebody please help, he’s dying!”  Barry shouted as they entered the ER.

The ER staff sprung into action, helping Len onto a gurney and a nurse fetching an Epi-Pen, slamming it into Len’s thigh.  With a gasp, Len’s breath returned to him.  The nurses wheeled him behind doors Barry wasn’t allowed into, leaving Barry to talk to the nurse now assigned to Len’s paperwork.  He explained dinner, saying that the Flash had noticed Len being unable to breath and whisked them both to the hospital.  He left out the part where Barry had been the cook, and implied the restaurant they had clearly been out had left out the sesame seed oil from the menu, making up a false name for the restaurant.

“He’s lucky Flash saw you, hon.”  The nurse said.  “An ambulance might’ve taken too long.  The Flash saves the day again.”

“Will he be okay?”  Barry asked, unashamed of the tears now running down his face.

“He should be.”  The nurse said.  “The Flash is pretty quick, he seems to have gotten here in time.”

Barry nodded and started to fill out the clipboard the secretary had given him.

“Are you next of kin?”  The secretary asked kindly when he gave it back.

“His sister but she’s in Coast City right now.”  Barry said, knowing Lisa had gone on an impromptu business trip for the Snart family business, needing to promote Len’s particular brand.  “I can call her.”

“Just write her number here.”  The secretary held out the form and Barry dutifully wrote down the number.  “Are you his husband?”

“Partner.”  Barry said.  Len hated calling Barry his boyfriend, said it made him feel like he was twenty again and he had long left the embarrassment of his twenties behind him.

The secretary nodded.  “Just listen for his name.”

Barry nodded and sat down, hugging himself so tight, if he didn’t have the healing factor he did, he would’ve left bruises.

Forty-five agonizing minutes later, “Family of Leonard Snart?”

Barry had to stop himself from flashing over there.  “I’m his partner, Barry Allen.”

“Well Mister Allen, you were very lucky Flash was there.  Leonard is going to be just fine.”  Barry nearly collapsed in relief.  “Now we’re going to keep him overnight, just in case, but the worst should be over.”

“Thank you.  Thank you so much.”  Barry shook the outstretched hand.

“I will be prescribing him an Epi-Pen after this, by the way.” The doctor added.  “The pharmacist will go over how to use it.”

“Can I see him now?”

The doctor nodded and began to lead him through the door.  “He’ll be very tired, the medication can often make a person drowsy, so don’t be afraid if he falls asleep.  This experience must’ve been very frightening for you.”

“I didn’t even see it at first, didn’t see it.”  Barry admitted.  “I’m a bad partner, I’m sure he knows all of my allergies.”

“Cut yourself a break, you’re not the first nor will you be the last.  You know now, that’s what matters going forward.”  The doctor stopped just outside of a “room” that had no doors, only curtains.

Barry nodded, thanked the woman, and headed “inside”, past the curtains.  Len lay sleeping in a flimsy hospital gown, bed raised up, nasal cannula wrapped around his face, an IV in his arm.  Barry sat down in the standard uncomfortable hospital chair, waiting for Len to wake up.  He didn’t have to wait long.

“Who knew I had you right on the money, Barry?”  Len mumbled, his eyes fluttering open.  “You did poison me.”

“I’m so sorry.”  Barry said, a few more tears slipping down his cheeks.  “I should’ve known, I should’ve been more careful.”

Len cupped Barry’s face gentler than he deserved, wiping away the tears.

“I didn’t tell you, it’s not your fault.”  Len said.  “I should’ve figured you’d get tired of me cooking all the time.”

“No, Len, don’t blame yourself.”  Barry said, scooting closer to his partner.  “You’re the one who could’ve died, and it would’ve been my fault.”

Len shook his head.  “You didn’t know.  I didn’t tell you.  Looks like we’ve both kept secrets from each other.”

Bary blushed, unable to meet Len’s eyes.

“I guess I really do know you, even if it’s subconscious.  My Scarlet Speedster.”  Len muttered.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve already lost so much to being the Flash.”  Barry admitted.  “My mother was murdered by a man from the future because he hated who I was going to grow up to be, my father was wrongfully convicted of her murder and I still can’t see him unless it’s behind glass, and I can’t have a normal life anymore.  I was given these powers for a reason, Lenny, not because of random chance, but because I’m supposed to be the Hero of Central City, the Fastest Man Alive.  But because I have these powers, because I chose to put myself on the line, it puts everyone I love on the line too.  Cisco and Caitlyn, my STAR labs friends?  They’ve both been kidnapped by villains who are trying to get to me.  Captain Cold once threatened Cisco’s brother to get him to build another gun for him and I just… I couldn’t bring you into that world.  I couldn’t do that to you.  You trusted me, you were supposed to feel safe around me.  And how am I supposed to do that if I’m the Flash?”

Len stared at him, his face mostly blank with a small frown, processing Barry’s ramblings.

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you either.”  Barry continued when Len didn’t say anything.  “I trust you with my life, Lenny.  I just wanted… I just wanted you to keep yours, without any of my problems putting you in danger.”

Something slid across Barry’s hand.  Barry nearly jumped in shock, before he realized it was Len’s hand, intertwining with his.

“That’s a pretty good reason, I guess.”  Len muttered, his eyes straight ahead.  Barry squeezed his hand, giving Len time.  He had trouble making eye contact in difficult conversations, so Barry just let him stare ahead.  “I… never really considered what Flash’s family would go through for what he does.  I don’t think many people do.  Our society takes heroes for granted, thinking that they’ll always be there for us.  It’s easy to critique and praise from afar, but you’re right in the thick of it.  And now so am I.  And I’m… surprisingly okay with that.”

“What?”

“Scarlet, you’re the one.”  Len pressed on, squeezing Barry’s hand like a lifeline.  “You’re the one I want to wake up to in the morning, and the last thing I wanna see before I go to sleep at night.  You make me laugh, you make me cry, you put up with my bullshit, and I put up with yours.  You make me want to go ring shopping, Lisa called it.  I’ve never wanted that before in my life.  I’ve never had anyone stick with me this long, let alone live with me who wasn’t a desperate roommate or Mick, and Mick doesn’t count.  I’ll admit, I’m a little freaked out, and I’m gonna be mad you kept it a secret a little later down the line, but for right now, with what I want… I’m good being the Flash’s partner.  I want to be the Flash’s partner.”

Barry stared at Len in amazement, unable to process Len’s words.

“That is,” Len hesitated, “if you’ll still have me.”

“Marry me.”

Len whipped his head around.  Both of them were surprised, even though the words had come out of Barry’s mouth.  But he wasn’t taking them back now.  Len knew everything and still wanted him.

“I know this is probably the worst time to ask, I don’t even have a ring or a speech, but I’m not an idiot.  You can’t say something like that and not expect me to react.”  Barry then proceeded to kneel on the ground.  “I love you, Leonard Snart, more than anyone I’ve ever loved in my life.  You’re my true love, my soulmate.  Marry me.”

“I’m taking your last name.”  Len whispered, his voice barely audible.

Barry gave a watery chuckle.  “Excuse me?”

“I’m taking your last name.”  Len said, his chest heaving, tears in his eyes.  “Always hated Snart.”

Barry felt tears well up in his own eyes.  “Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes.”  Len nodded.  “How could it be anything else?”

Barry laughed hysterically, emotionally exhausted with uncontainable ecstasy, the tears of happiness falling down his cheeks.  Even Len let a few tears slip.  Barry jumped up and kissed him, unable to control the heat and passion overflowing from the two of them.  Len pulled back sharply, coughing hard.

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh, are you okay, I’m so sorry.”  Barry threw himself back.

“Water.”  Len gasped out, trying to get his coughing under control.  Barry grabbed the cup on the bedside table and held it up to Len’s mouth.  Len drank slowly, the strain on his lungs easing.  Once Len was able to breathe again, Barry set the water cup down.

“Maybe we should pick this back up when you’re not recovering from a near-death experience.”  Barry said, wiping at his eyes.

Len nodded listlessly, his body slumping against the bed.

“You’re exhausted.”  Barry maneuvered around the machines and tubes to lay down beside his fiancé, and didn’t that thought send a thrill down his spine.  He wasn’t entirely sure if the hospital would allow him to sleep beside Len but at the moment, he didn’t care.  “I’m not going anywhere.  Go to sleep.”

Len adjusted so his arm was wrapped around Barry’s shoulders, their legs were intertwined, and their foreheads were almost touching.  There wasn’t really room on the bed for two people but they made do.  They always had before.

“Goodnight my hero.”  Len mumbled, already half-asleep.  “My future husband.  Husband hero.”

Barry chuckled.  “Goodnight, my darling fiancé.  I love you.”

A soft snore was his only response.  Barry allowed himself one more small smile, but snuggling into his fiancé and slipping into sleep himself.

Day 19, 23- shidekobushi

19 was hard, so this is what came of it. It's not my strongest work, but it's still finished. That's all that matters^^

prompts- floral bouquet and stalking- Bakugou has a stalker, one who he sees as nothing more than an annoyance. but this wouldn't be a whump story if she was just an annoyance ;) mostly really this is slice of life with whump^^

AO3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50331565

A hero needed to be constantly aware of their surroundings, able to tell the slightest difference between movements to make sure they’re not caught off guard, and Katsuki lived by that code. Even though he ignored all the stares he’d become more aware of after Kamino, and very much ignored how anxious that made him feel, he still noticed who was staring at him, assessing their threat status, or how annoying they were. The top of that list right now was this dumb little brunette from support, who hadn’t stopped staring at him for almost a month now. If he flicked his eyes over to her, glaring strongly, she always turned her head to the side, and it tightened the dread that had started building in his gut. There were two scenarios where someone would need to stare at him for so long, and one was particularly worse than the other. The first was simple, they were a threat to him, either challenging his authority or prowess, and he could deal with them easily. The second drove him up the wall. Ever since middle school, where the other kids had finally begun to notice the other gender, or the same gender depending on which way they swung, he’d been plagued by other people leaving chocolates on his desk, slipping little notes into his locker, or worst of all, actually talking to him with a nervous smile and hopeful eyes, asking him for coffee or to go on a walk.

He might take a little too much pleasure shutting them down sometimes, but watching as their faces collapsed when he bluntly turned them down was his consolation prize for being forced to deal with this shit in the first place. It was their own fault really, he’d made it very clear that he had no interest in romance, especially not the ‘traditional’ way. He always thought it was so stupid, leaving terrible chocolate or pieces of worthless paper with shitty drawings all over it. If he ever became interested in romance, (which he absolutely doubted but the old hag kept telling him she was the same way when she was his age but she found herself wanting it as she got older so he supposed it was technically possible) he would be the one doing the ‘wooing’ or whatever shit it was called. He wasn’t a coward, he’d just go up to the person and tell them and start dating them. He would never be approached by anyone and actually accept it.

Katsuki had hoped to dissuade her by loudly talking about how he didn’t date around her. His friends had asked him if he’d ever dated before coming to U.A., and he’d taken advantage of the opportunity. Ashido was the most perceptive in the class when it came to unnecessary emotions, calling the couples that would eventually get together with disturbing accuracy, so he’d thought that she’d asked because she also noticed the girl and was putting feelers out if he was interested. He’d tried to make it blatantly obvious that he wasn’t to get her to back off, but that just seemed to spur her on. Not even yelling at her to leave him alone worked, at least Deku listened to that.

When she started showing up at places he went, he started to get very uncomfortable. She would never actually engage with him, just be there, at arm’s length, constantly making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Dread mixed with anxiety that he refused to admit was anxiety, telling himself that it was just some stupid bitch who couldn’t read a fucking room. Deku had been similar, though he actually had been invited to the places he was going because the old hag had insisted on inviting Auntie Inko and inviting Auntie always meant Deku coming too. The damn nerd may have constantly stared and asked too many questions, but at least he wasn’t always at the edge of his perception, raising his hackles every goddamn time. His skin crawled every time he saw her, when he decided to get Lunch Rush’s food rather than make his own she was always there, when he went to the gym to spar or workout she was always there pretending to work out, when all of his classmates were outside enjoying the sun and he was studying away from them (but not too far away) she was always on another bench or behind a tree. This dumb extra was fucking insane, apparently, and eventually he went back to ignoring her, hoping that complete disinterest in her actions would work.

It hadn’t, much to his dismay.

“You know, dude, maybe we should just start inviting that girl to go with us places.” Kaminari said lightly, ignoring Katsuki’s glare. “We already know she’s gonna be there anyways, might as well give her an invitation.”

“I barely tolerate you fucks, invite her and I’ll stick your head to the top of the flagpole.” Katsuki growled, trying to suppress how uncomfortable that made him.

“But if we do, then she’ll see how much better boyfriend material I am.” Kaminari laughed, puffing up his nonexistent chest. “That’ll get her off your back.”

Tense muscles unwound just a little as Katsuki recognized that Kaminari was actually trying to help, just in the stupidest way possible. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, he’d named the idiot Dunce Face for a reason, and not just because of his whey mode.

But the idea still made him pause. “Aren’t you literally always trying to get into Ears’ pants? And Mindfreak’s now too?”

Kaminari looked quickly over to where the two purples were… off purpling, he didn’t fucking know and he didn’t care. All he cared about was Dunce Face kept inviting more and more people to be in their little group that Katsuki couldn’t escape and it really pissed him the fuck off.

“I mean, yeah, but there’s always the ‘make em jealous’ route.” Kaminari said, once he realized his two purples were out of earshot.

“That literally never works, you’re just a fucking idiot.” Katsuki said, ignoring the fact that he was actually somehow giving relationship advice. God, what was his life now?

Kaminari sort of deflated with too much emotion for Katsuki to process all of them. “Well, I don’t know what else to do! I flirt with them, and they just make fun of me.”

“As they should.”

“Kacchan!” Kaminari huffed. “My point is, I’m running out of ideas here. A guy can only take so much friendly ribbing before he goes crazy!”

“Why are you asking me?” Katsuki in disbelief.

“Because I’ve already asked everyone else, and nothing’s working.” Kaminari whined.

“Maybe if you stop being such a huge idiot all the time, they might pay attention to you.” Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Get better lines, I’m so fucking sick of the shitty ones you have. If you say another corny ass bullshit one-liner, I’m throwing you out the window.”

“Hey, my lines are awesome!” Kaminari said, getting another eye roll and scoff.

“Sure, if you’re five or in one of those god awful romance movies.”

Kaminari pouted. “I don’t know what that girl sees in you.”

Katsuki didn’t either.

“Girl?” Ah, hell, Ashido. Great, way to make this conversation worse. “Is there a girl? Oh my god, Bakugou do you like someone?”

“Fuck no.” Katsuki barked, making her pout.

“Nah, we’re talking about Kacchan’s stalker.” Kaminari said, saving him from another lecture about not yelling at people who ask stupid questions. “We don’t know what she sees in him.”

“Fuck you, I’m great.” Katsuki snapped. “If I did want to date someone, which I don’t, but if I did, I’d be the greatest fucking boyfriend ever. Your stupid pickup lines wouldn’t be good enough to lick the dirt off my boots.”

Kaminari cringed at his crudeness, but Ashido just stared at him with her too knowing eyes. “You know, Bakugou, if you keep that up, you’ll end up single for the rest of your life.”

“Good.” Katsuki snarled. “Romance is for the weak minded.”

“Mm, you say that now.” Ashido said, still staring at him. “I still swear by the end of second year, you’ll be with someone. I just know it.”

Katsuki blanched a little, deciding to never date anyone ever while he was here at U.A. just to spite her, even if the world turned upside down and he somehow actually wanted to. Kaminari laughed at his face, which Katsuki ended with a hard smack! to his arm.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“Sorry, Kacchan but you should’ve seen your face.” Kaminari said, rubbing his arm but still giggling a little. Bastard.

“I don’t date. At all.” Katsuki stated bluntly. “Least of all her. She’s a fucking creep.”

“If you’re uncomfortable around her, why don’t you just tell her to leave you alone, and that you’re not interested?” Mina asked.

Katsuki’s eye twitched. “I have. She won’t take the fucking hint.”

“Just tell someone, then.” Mina shrugged, as if it were that easy. “I’m sure one of the teachers would step in for stalking. Pretty sure it’s against the rules or something. Or we could do it, maybe she’ll listen to us.”

“I don’t need anyone to ‘step in’, I don’t need help.” Katsuki growled. “I can handle this on my own, without anyone meddling in my fucking business.”

Katsuki just needed her to just make her stupid public confession, so he could embarrass her in front of everyone to get her to stop. Humiliating her was becoming his last option to get her to fucking stop. He didn’t know if anything else would work since nothing else was.

Mina just shrugged at him again, and the conversation moved back to Kaminari’s pathetic attempts to get into their other friends’ pants, and Katsuki tried to forget about her for a while.

“Bakubro, stalker alert.” Kirishima murmured to him as they were at their lockers, the last bell having rung a few minutes ago.

Katsuki turned and the dumb bitch was actually walking towards him, her arms behind her back, like she was holding something. Finally.

“What, stalker?” Katsuki snapped as she finally came up to him.

“Um, it’s Seiko.” She said, and he internally facepalmed that she thought he had just mispronounced her name. Though, the fact that her parents named her ‘psycho’ seemed apt.

His throat was getting a little tight, and he wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t dangerous, just creepy. He should’ve been able to breathe just fine. His eye had twitched at her stupidity, but it was still going, and Katsuki was starting to get a little dizzy. What the hell?

“I’ve been admiring you from afar,” not too fucking far, “and I thought that maybe, since I know you like coffee,” she sounded like she knew some personal secret, and Katsuki rolled his eyes. Everyone knew he liked coffee. “a-and well. I thought that maybe you’d like to go out for a coffee with me this friday?”

Katsuki meant to yell at her, but his throat was now very tight, as if it was closing. Something was wrong, he just couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on.

Taking his silence as hesitant permission to keep going, she went on, “I-I brought you these! I overheard you saying you liked them the other day, so. Here.”

And then it made sense.

This dumb fucking bitch pulled out shidekobushi from behind her back, her hands jerky in her movements. She was right, he had mentioned them the other day, but not because he liked them.

He’d been telling his friends he was deathly allergic to them.

They’d been discussing taking a weekend trip somewhere, to blow off steam and just spend some quality time together, and he’d been forced to join the conversation. Mina had floated the idea of going to Tajimi, because this was the season the rare flower shidekobushi were in bloom, and Tajimi was one of the only places in Japan to see them.

“We’re not going there.” Katsuki had said authoritatively.

“Kacchan, just because you don’t really like flowers doesn’t mean it’s not a cool experience.” Mina had protested, frowning.

“We’re not going there.” Katsuki had repeated. “If you go there, I’m not going.”

“Come on, bro, the point is to do things as a group.” Kirishima had put his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder briefly. “Everyone goes, even if it’s not our first choice.”

“I’m not fucking going.” Katsuki had snapped. “I’ve been there before.”

“And we’ve all been to the maid cafe Denki dragged us to too, and that’s still an option.” Mina had insisted. “Besides, I’ve never been, and I want to go.”

“I can’t!” Katsuki had sighed angrily, rubbing his nose trying to deal with their annoying bullshit. His voice had gotten low, instinctively trying to protect himself from being overheard. Admitting this was already hard enough. “Last time I went, I ended up in the hospital.”

That had caught his friends’ attention. “Dude, why?”

“Because I got fucking taken out by fucking flowers.” Katsuki had whispered grumpily. He hated admitting any weakness, but he couldn’t play with his own life like that. He couldn’t be a hero if some stupid flower fucking killed him, no matter how much he hated it. Stupid bastards for pushing him all the time, they always made him admit things he didn’t want to. How fucking dare they learn his weaknesses? “I can’t be around them, they make me sick.”

Thankfully, Kirishima had had the good grace to also whisper because they all knew how hard this was for him, Kirishima especially. “Like allergic? Like how bad?”

“Bad.” Katsuki had said. “If you wanna go there, I’m not going. I don’t fuck around with that.”

They’d all agreed that that was off the table, and Katsuki had all but forgotten talking about it.

Until he had those exact flowers shoved in his face by a crazy stalker who’d only overheard part of the conversation.

Katsuki’s eyes went wide as his throat immediately closed, his hand coming to his throat as the world began to spin. He gasped for air like a fish out of water, the air never making it to his lungs as his throat closed completely. He stumbled backwards, feeling Kirishima catch him as his eyes unfocused as the room began to spin faster. Kirishima lowered them to the ground, Katsuki’s body jerking convulsively as he kept trying and failing to breathe.

Voices filtered in his head, and he lost track of them, black spots flashing across his eyes so fast he didn’t notice when his eyes rolled back in his head.

“I don’t understand! I heard him!”

“Get those flowers away from him! He’s allergic!”

“Does anyone have an epi-pen?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Someone get Recovery Girl!”

“He can’t breathe!”

The convulsions stopped, his eyes fluttered closed, and his attempts at getting air stopped. Darkness overtook him like a tsunami, not even giving him time to lament the fact that he’d just been killed by a fucking flower of all things, only giving him the slightest feeling of something sharp in his leg.

The first thing he became conscious of was breathing a full breath and then immediately choking on it, coughing as he wheezed awake. He got his eyes open, blinking heavily at the too strong light, but the world stayed in place instead of spinning and he could breathe again so he could thank the stars he hadn’t just been killed by a fucking flower. Stupid fucking immune system.

“Easy, Bakugou, take it easy.” It took a moment but his vision justified Aizawa into focus. “Recovery Girl will be here in a minute, just breathe.”

Honestly, breathing was still a little hard to do, but he shook his head anyway. “Can walk.”

“I know you can, I’m just not letting you.” Aizawa said. He opened his mouth in protest, but the hand he discovered was on his shoulder pressed down. “Epinephrine is taken best laid down, we need to make sure it’s still properly in your system, and right now what I say goes. You can yell at me later, problem child, after this is over.”

Katsuki decided he was definitely going to do that, this pissed him off. He was perfectly capable of walking to Recovery Girl’s office under his own power.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Aizawa said, distracting him from his anger. “I’m getting a lot of conflicting stories.”

“Crazy stalker bitch.” Katsuki panted, his eyes searching for her. But he found there wasn’t anyone else around him, they were all down the hall, Vlad King blocking off anyone from getting near him. Alright, maybe he won’t yell so much at Aizawa, that was clearly his doing. “Brought stupid fucking flowers as if I’d like that. ‘M allergic to them.”

“We noticed that.” Aizawa muttered. “Your friends say she’s been stalking you for about a month now, and that you repeatedly turned her down. Do you think it might have been intentional?”

Katsuki shook his head. He hated this bitch and hoped to never see her again, but he wouldn’t purposefully get someone in trouble for something they didn’t do. He had his own code of honor, even if other people didn’t understand it. “Don’t think so. Think she just misheard me. She never got close enough to hear shit properly, and she asked me out rather than say it was revenge, so I think she’s just fucking dumb.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Aizawa asked. “She did shove them in your face from what I’ve heard.”

“I’m sure.” Katsuki nodded. “Not the first time someone’s shoved stuff at me because of this romance bullshit. First time it was flowers though. Usually it’s chocolate.”

“Alright, that’s good.” Aizawa said.  “And you didn’t come to anyone about having a stalker for a month… why?”

“She was just a girl with a stupid crush.” Katsuki said obviously. “She wasn’t a threat. Figured she’d ask me out eventually, and thought turning her down would get her to stop. Wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.”

“If there’s a next time, problem child, tell me anyway, I don’t care.” Aizawa said bluntly. “Stalkers can devolve very easily into dangerous situations, or they can do dumb things like get you flowers you’re allergic to and become threats in a matter of seconds.”

Katsuki pouted, didn’t nod but also didn’t refuse. Aizawa took that as acceptance.

“Get better students and I won’t have to deal with this.”

Aizawa glared at him. He glared back.

“Since it seems to be accidental,” Aizawa said. Katsuki declared the staring contest a draw. “I don’t think suspension or expulsion are necessary, just an apology and maybe a restriction order. Do you agree?”

“I don’t want that bitch anywhere near me.” Katsuki growled. “And she can stuff her apology up her ass, I don’t fucking need pathetic words.”

Aizawa just nodded at him. “I’ll have her write one anyway, you don’t have to read it.”

Katsuki just huffed.

“Alright, Recovery Girl is here.” Aizawa said, and Katsuki could hear the whir of a transport and crutch along with footsteps. “Be nice, problem child.”

Katsuki opened his mouth, and Aizawa just glared again. “Be nice.”

He was yelling at his bastard teacher again.

“What are you going to name her?” his sister Julieta asks him softly, the corners of her eyes crinkling in concern as she lays a hand on his arm. For a moment, his daughter quiets to stare up at him. There’s only one name that will fit her, that describes what she is to him. “Mirabel,” Bruno croaks. “Mirabel.”

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: Just A Scratch

Leonardo swept one of his katanas down in a graceful arc, tearing open skin like paper and watching the blood spray. His enemy howled in pain, stumbled back, and gripped their injury to try and stem the bleeding, casting a glare at him. They were some werewolf looking group of mutants, nothing too bad as long as none of them-

Apparently, while he was dealing with one, the other two had circled around to his sides, and one had decided to sink its teeth deep into her arm. He grit his teeth, dug his heels into the ground, and slashed at its face as an effective method to dislodge it.

"Get!" He yelled and made a wide gesture with his arms.

The rogue mutants yelped and scrambled to get away, bouncing over each other in their efforts to run back into their hiding places.

Leonardo huffed. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to see or hear about them for a long time.

He turned his attention to the bite wound on his arm and examined it carefully. It wasn't too deep, more like a surface wound then anything. A thin stream of blood trickled down his forearm. He raised an eye ridge, unimpressed by the injuries his enemies had given to him. Reaching down to the little medical pouch he had, Leonardo pulled out some antiseptic and dressed the bite mark before wrapping it tightly. It would heal quickly.

%%%

When he got home, Leonardo spent some time with his family. A promised spar with Raphael, a conference with Donatello to help him with a project he had been struggling with, some gaming with Michelangelo.

As the late hours came along, though, there was a faint feeling of misplacement that didn't belong. He said goodnight and went to bed early, hoping that would do something for his health.

%%%

Michelangelo didn't usually wake up early, but sometimes, that sixth sense specifically meant for finding danger started going off in the middle of the night. That was usually worth listening to.

So that was how he found himself waking up in the dead of night to Leonardo standing over his bedside, holding a tanto blade high above his head, and visibly trembling.

"Don't do it," Michelangelo whispered to Leonardo's shadow, "Please, don't do it. This isn't funny, Leo." Of course it wasn't funny. Leonardo didn't make jokes often, but when he did, they were nothing like this.

Suddenly, Leonardo fell backwards and dropped the blade, thankfully not on Michelangelo. He scooched backwards, and in the darkness, Michelangelo could vaguely see him curling up.

The youngest sat up, squinting. "Are- Are you okay? Leo, are you-"

"I don't know what's going on." His voice was soft, so impossibly soft that he had to strain to hear it.

"Yeah, I can- I can tell."

"Don't tell them, please. I think I can handle this, just- Don't tell them."

Michelangelo hesitated. On one hand, Leonardo was going to kill him, whether he realized it or not. He had been hovering over his bedside with a knife, ready to release him to death.

On the other hand, it almost reminded him of when they were just little children, whispering in the dark not to tell Splinter about something they had done wrong. In the end-

"Just lock my door on the way out, don’t pick the lock, and we'll be good until I wake up."

"Okay. I- Okay."

%%%

Leonardo didn't stay. He left the lair entirely. He didn't want to risk hurting Michelangelo again, or any of his brothers.

%%%

"He still hasn't moved?"

"Nope," Raphael popped the p, looking Leonardo over.

Two hours, and he still hadn't moved from the seiza position. Unless he was under some extreme stress, Leonardo didn't meditate for over half an hour in the morning. Michelangelo still wasn't awake, so he wasn't of any help either.

“You should poke him.”

“Why me?”

“Because if he gets upset or startled, you have a lesser chance of getting taken down.”

“...Fine.”

Raphael crept towards Leonardo, wary of startling the older turtle, and gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

“Leo, bro? You good?”

Leonardo remained unmoving for a long minute, not responding to Raphael’s prodding. Raphael raised a single eye ridge, getting concerned. Had he fallen asleep? That was very unlike the oldest, who was usually so studious and alert. He moved to give Leonardo a rougher push, maybe that would get him out of it.

“Hey, Leo-”

His eyes slid open, and Raphael let go. There he was, finally awake-

Suddenly, Leonardo lunged forward, drawing his katanas and slamming into Raphael full force. Raphael brought his arms up just in time to block the hit, but still skidded backwards, eyes wide from shock. Did- Did he just-?

There was no time to think, Leonardo was already moving to make his next attack. Raphael drew his sai.

“Dude, what is this?! Snap out of it!”

Donatello ran into the unexpected fight to help Raphael, trying not to hurt Leonardo while still keeping him back. Still, Leonardo was definitely a lot stronger than expected, and Raphael got the feeling that the “prodigal son” hadn’t really been using everything he learned until just now. Shoot. Leonardo knocked Donatello down, sending him across the room, and turned to Raphael with a predator’s gaze. Shoot.

He rolled out of the way as Leonardo came running at him, only for it to be a fake move and get shoved to the ground, efficiently pinned by the older (and apparently strong) of the two. Donatello, having recovered from his stunned state, came running back and gave Leonardo a hard shove, throwing him off if only for a second.

Then Michelangelo joined, slightly disheveled and looking like he had just woken up, but at least he was there.

Blood sprayed and for a moment, everybody (including Leonardo, Raphael noted) froze. Then the battle continued.

Raphael regretted not asking Leonardo before about if he was holding back on them, because now? Now it was definitely clear, and he really wished that he had known about it sooner. Leonardo easily overpowered them, beating them down and aiming for a killing blow whenever he got the chance.

“Leo!” Michelangelo called out, “Bro, it’s us! Calm down-!” He swung the nunchuks, trying to wrap the chains around his oldest brother and restrain him for the time being. Instead, he accidentally hooked one of the blades in Leonardo’s skin.

Leonardo froze. Of course it wasn’t from pain, he was Leonardo “Supernatural Pain Tolerance” Hamato. Raphael hoped it was him coming back to them, but he still had to be wary, just in case this was some kind of trick to make them let their guard down.

Donatello and Michelangelo took the chance, unlike Raphael, and lunged forward, grabbing Leonardo and pinning him down while Michelangelo worked on wrapping the chains around him. Leonardo kicked and thrashed, honest to God hissing at them, and Raphael came to aid them in restraining him.

They pulled him back to a sturdy column, and tied him there, as uncomfortable as if made them. If it needed to be done, then, well...

"Is anybody hurt?" Donatello said at last, "Is anybody bit, or something like that? If this is anything like the time with those wasps, then it'll be good to know now rather than later."

Everyone took a moment to look themselves over. The only injuries seemed to be caused by something artificial, and Raphael swore that he would have noticed if he was bitten.

Donatello nodded, relieved, and crept down to Leonardo's side, moving away fresh bandages to look at the injuries underneath.

"Yeah, look here. Bite mark. Something infected him-"

Leonardo suddenly lunged forward, snapping at Donatello and making sounds that sounded almost inhuman. Raphael darted over to grab the chains because the last thing they needed was Leonardo getting loose.

Donatello froze, his breathing hitching for a second before he leaned back, grabbed a syringe, and leaned closer again.

"Keep holding him, I need a blood sample to try and figure out an antidote."

The oldest behaved actually rather well, going very still and not moving again until Donatello had pulled away. Maybe he was coming back? Even if if was just for a second, he stopped.

%%%

"He's gone!"

"Mikey, who?"

"Leo!"

“What?! Did you get bit? Are there any scratches or anything?”

“No, but Leo’s loose! Raph went after him, but he got a little messed up on the way."

"Then we need to go! The antidote will be ready by the time we're back."

Michelangelo led the way, taking Donatello to where he had left Raphael and Leonardo, who were now battling it out. Well, more accurately, Leonardo was attacking a thoroughly injured Raphael who had to fall back on defense to stay alive.

Then, Leonardo noticed Michelangelo and Donatello. In one smooth, graceful movement, he had Michelangelo in his grip, holding a blade to his throat and backing up. A hostage. They didn't usually take hostages.

Donatello paused and didn't risk moving. Then, he started moving backwards. I'll be back, he mouthed, slowly moving home.

Once Donatello was gone, Michelangelo whined softly, “Raphie-”

Leonardo pushed the blade ever closer to Michelangelo’s throat. He wasn’t playing, that was clear enough. Raphael shivered in terror. He never thought that Leonardo wouldn’t threaten them, even under the influence of something that took him out of his right mind-

No, he wasn’t out of his mind. He was being controlled, moving against his will. It was obvious in the hesitation, the attempts to not attack them, all the times he had suddenly lapsed out of his aggressive behavior. It was all right there. He was right there, but Raphael just didn’t see it. Beneath the controlled state was still Leonardo, as protective as ever, fighting to keep them safe and losing.

At that moment, Leonardo needed Raphael to step up, not to return the hostile behavior. “Leo,” he murmured. “Leo, it’s us. Don’t- Don’t hurt him. You’ll be alright, just put the sword down.”

Raphael swallowed and hoped that his words were doing something. He didn’t think he could take losing one of his brothers.

Leonardo hesitated, actually hesitated, and lowered the blade just a bit, his gaze wavering as he regarded Raphael coldly. C’mon, Raphael silently screamed, Come back to us, idiot.

Then, Donatello reappeared, now behind Leonardo and jabbed a needle into his shoulder. Leonardo shuddered and twisted before collapse, releasing both the sword and Michelangelo in the process.

Donatello grabbed him and slowly lowered him to the ground. "I think it worked?" He called as Michelangelo joined Raphael at his side. “Give it a minute, I think we have him back.”

A few seconds passed before Leonardo gasped softly and blinked a few times. He looked around, grabbed Donatello’s hand, and almost immediately shrunk back.

“Oh.”

He swore under his breath.

“I’m sorry. Oh my God I’m so sorry-”

Leonardo scrambled up to his feet and tore away, backing away from them.

“Leo, you weren’t aware of it.” Raphael soothed, even though Michelangelo was still hiding. “It was like the wasps all over again, alright? It wasn’t you doing it.”

"However,” Donatello interjected, “you will be telling us the whole story while I run some tests."

%%%

“Well,” Raphael said, wrinkling his beak and swishing around the contents in his mug, “That was actually lamer than I expected.”

“Yeah,” Leonardo laughed softly.

“Leo,” Donatello scolded and kicked Leonardo in the shin, “Tell someone next time, alright? This was like that stupid wasp all over again, somebody could have died.”

Leonardo flinched. He knew that all too well. He had seen that he was holding Michelangelo hostage, that he had tried to kill his family, but hadn’t been able to do anything to stop it. He was helpless, trapped in his own body and unable to fight back.

“Alright. Sorry, about all of this.”

floral bouquet / psychological / I'm not as stupid as you think I am (I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me)

Things have been different lately.

Did he start this or did she or was it beyond either of them entirely?

He chose to collapse at her feet. That much of it is on him at least.

But she chose to nurse him back to health. To offer him that heartbreaking smile. To let him see the soft side that he'd only caught in glimpses before when they and Vicious had been able to hit the town between assignments. Even then she hadn't revealed her vulnerable side, just the side of herself that was wild and carefree and impulsive. She was a woman of so many faces, of so many roles. The femme fatale, serious and sultry and sensuous. The enchanting vixen barely out of her teens, playful and giddy and sporting an inappropriate love of pranks and trickery. The homely nurse, radiating comfort and whose touch alone seemed to heal. The daredevil speed demon whose skill on the streets was unparalleled. The fastidious syndicate sniper, the wicked pool shark, the aloof and alluring angel with a smile like sin...

For so long he'd been content to admire from afar. To hustle arrogant assholes at her side. To take to the streets like any unencumbered young folk, making her laugh and coaxing half a smirk from Vicious even. They'd been unbeatable as a triad. Julia and Vicious, the power couple. Spike and Vicious, the ruthless team of upstarts rising through the ranks of the syndicate with brutal ease. They were young, they were bold, they were determined to own the world one day.

Then Vicious started getting into Red Eye and Julia kept disappearing on mysterious missions and Spike himself was shunted off to Earth and the TJ and then the Asteroid Field. His own claim to fame, aside from being a sharpshooter and a thug, was his unmatched ability to pilot zip craft. He was utilized as a runner for Red Eye again and again and again. His artificial eye gave him an incredible edge and the syndicate always liked to use every advantage they had. When he was in Tharsis, he and Vicious were teamed up like always but he felt like the Van was no longer doing it due to their strength as a unit but rather so Spike could keep an eye on Vicious. Yet the other man handled the drug like it was water. Spike himself was no stranger to the enhancement effects of Red Eye and could understand well the siren song of the drug... if it hadn't cost him an eye, there was no telling how deep he could have fallen, but Vicious never seemed out of sorts while on it.

So it came as a surprise when the Van made the decision to send him to Titan. Spike was unhappy about this. Vicious, while a terror to his enemies, had always been a savior to Spike. The other man had rescued him from the Red Eye binge that had left him half-blind in the midst of White Tiger territory and embroiled in a battle far beyond his ability to win or even escape alive. He would have been dead for sure if Vicious hadn't discovered Spike's overdose and tracked him down. He had left a swath of ruin in his wake, so it's not like it was difficult for Vicious to follow along after, but the fact that he had was the important bit. The syndicate would have no doubt been indifferent to his fate - even as one of Mao's favorites, he was just an enforcer back then. The Van had never been bothered by the loss of brute strength here and there. If anything, their concern would have been more on the damage he caused before self-destruction... could it be used in their favor? Would it reflect negatively on their negotiations with anyone else?

Vicious had taken it into his own hands to rescue him. Had cut down all the opponents Spike had left standing. Had scooped him up, screaming and writhing, blood pouring down his face and from countless wounds. And somehow he'd even managed to argue that Spike deserved medical care. Had managed to either bribe or intimidate or persuade the Van to put Spike under their doctor's care and get some experimental surgery to save his vision. Or, to replace what was lost rather.

For that, Spike would have followed him anywhere. He had a life still thanks to Vicious. And then for the Van to send the other man away just because they were worried about his use of Red Eye when he'd never been crazed on the stuff? It didn't sit well with Spike. He ended up plunging off the deep end again without Vicious to keep him in check. He pushed his limits and rampaged and when he was faltering, failing, falling down down down... he chose to go to Julia.

He needed a voice of reason. Someone to guide him. Someone to recognize that his soul was salvageable. He needed a caretaker. He was a beast without a master.

And Vicious was gone and she was alone and Spike was out of his mind to do what he did next.

Or did she initiate it?

It was hard to say, hard to remember. He'd been coming off another Red Eye binge but determined to stay off the damn drug this time. It had taken part of his sight and had nearly taken his life twice now... he was a fool to go back to it but he'd been adrift and underutilized by the syndicate and needed to keep his edge somehow.

And when she was removing his bandages somehow she came to be in his lap and then they were kissing and it was amazing. It was like the universe was unfolding before his very eyes. Stars exploding, breathless passion, the need to feel awake and alive and desired. It was a mistake, of course, but it was the best mistake he'd ever made. She made him feel invincible again. Made him feel like there was something to see in the next day if he could just get there.

It was a passionate affair that only tapered off when Vicious returned. He'd always known he would give her up for his oldest friend. Always knew he'd respect that the other man came first. Julia had been his, or he had been hers... either way, Spike had never expected a chance with the voluptuous blonde. And even while she'd gone back to Vicious... she toyed with Spike as well. It felt almost like psychological torture, the way she would glance over her shoulder with those come-hither eyes while she followed Vicious out of a room. The way she'd press against him at the pool hall under the guise of slipping past to make her shot. The way she'd leave rose petals on his pillow whenever he was gone from his apartment on assignment.

Roses were their thing. Vicious had never bothered with flowers - didn't understand why anyone would want a dying plant, no matter how pleasant the blooms smelled. And so Julia had always gotten herself bouquets. It gave her apartment a certain charm that was irresistible. And, because she had so frequently treated herself to those lovely arrangements, it was not at all suspicious whenever Spike was able to sneak in and leave a rose bouquet for her. He knew their scent was her favorite - she had lotions and perfumes of rose, after all. And the sentiment behind the flower was one Spike could get behind. A way to let her know the truth of his heart though he'd never said the words themselves.

It wasn't long after Vicious got back that things seemed to fall apart. Julia became closed off and withdrawn. Vicious himself was colder than before and took great pleasure in the cruelty he could inflict on their missions, something that was making Spike uncomfortable these days. He'd had a chance to embrace something meaningful and could suddenly see the beauty of affection in other aspects of the world. Could identify and empathize with the other unfortunate souls struggling to survive here in Tharsis. The city was harsh, crime was everywhere, and blood stained the streets where the syndicates clashed. Innocent lives got caught up in the crossfire too often for Spike to be able to shrug it off.

Spike continued to bring Julia roses, slowly drawing her back out of the shell she'd become. There was a sadness to her eyes that he couldn't seem to touch no matter how ardently he made love to her. His jokes no longer made her giggle. It was like a shadow had fallen over them and it filled him with a sense of forboding.

Vicious was waiting on the fire escape when they came back from the pool hall one night. He and Julia had supposedly broken up but there was something dangerous in his gaze as he watched them approach. He and Spike had bid her goodnight and walked off together, side by side and yet somehow worlds apart. There was a chasm between them and Spike wasn't sure how to bridge that gulf. The silence as they strode down the street made him wary but also drove him to speak.

"There's nothing between us," He said, trying to make the words true even as his heart twisted at his blatant lie.

Vicious snorted. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am." There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Be careful when you're with that woman." He cautioned at last, making Spike frown. And then he turned abruptly and moved off down a side street, leaving Spike standing bewildered under the flickering streetlight at a crossroads in the town and in his own life.