No.22 - Tumblr Posts

Whumptober Prompt #16- Pinned Down and #22- Hallucination

Tony had officially graduated from worried to scared.  Peter’s fever had been steadily climbing for hours since he arrived at the Compound.  May had called last night, panicking as she knew she couldn’t take him to the hospital where she worked, but he had gotten sick the previous day and he wasn’t getting better.  It had started as a simple cold but overnight, it seemed, it had turned into full-blown viral fever.  He had immediately contacted Shuri, as the Princess of Wakanda had immediately taken to Peter once they had finally met, and sent her everything she asked for.  But Shuri hadn’t found an antiviral yet, hadn’t even gotten a fever reducer to him yet.  And Peter’s fever kept climbing.  So Tony was scared, teetering on the edge of terrified.

“Have to… have to…”  Peter mumbled, lost in the throes of fever.

“Have to what, Pete?”  Tony asked, trying to rearrange the wet washcloths on Peter.  It felt like they’d been forced back into the stone age with Peter’s metabolism burning through antivirals like butter in a microwave.  But he had to keep trying, no matter how old the remedy was.  He had to try and cool Peter down.

“Have to find… find…”

“Find?  Find what, Peter?”  Tony murmured.

“Danger… spi…”

“You don’t have to be Spider-man right now, Pete.”  Tony whispered.  “No one is in danger.”

“Safe?”  Peter sagged against his pillows, exhausted.

“Yeah, we’re all safe.”  Tony soothed.  “Morgan’s safe, May is safe, I’m safe.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.  “Mor-gan?”

Tony stopped.  Peter’s fever was cooking the memories right out of his head.

“Yeah, Morgan.”  Tony answered.  “She’s with Pep, upstate.  We didn’t want to scare her by letting her see you like this.  We knew you wouldn’t want that.”

That had been a hard won battle.  Morgan had not wanted to stay at home, she’d wanted to be with her brother.  Since Tony had all but adopted Peter after surviving the snap, Morgan had taken to calling Peter her brother.  No one, not Pepper, not May, not himself, not even Peter had corrected her. 

“Ben, who’s Morgan?”  Peter asked, his confused voice sending ice through Tony’s veins.

Tony had obviously looked into Peter Parker’s life before recruiting him to what eventually became known as Team Iron Man.  He hadn’t wanted to go in blind to someone who may not agree with him.  He’d seen the scholarship to Midtown Tech, the parents dying in a plane crash as a child, being raised by a single Aunt after his uncle had died in a robbery.  Once Peter had become a legitimate intern at Stark Industries, and he’d met with May to discuss how Peter was going to be continuing Spider-man activities, he’d learned the rest of the story.  May had told him that Peter had been there when his Uncle Ben died, that the man had bled out in his arms.  That Peter blamed himself for his own inaction, though it had been Ben who threw himself in front of Peter.  It explained why Peter was so fueled to make sure Queens was safe, even if it meant breaking curfew to do it.  Peter hadn’t wanted anyone to suffer like he did, not when he knew he had the power to save people.

“Never mind, buddy.”  Tony said, unsure if agreeing with Peter’s delirium or fighting it was the right way to go.  He had to read more books on high fevers when this was over.

“Ben, where are we?”  Peter’s confusion grew and he tried to sit up.  “Ben, we can’t afford this.”

“It’s okay, it’s already paid for.”  Tony hushed, using the best way to calm Peter down that he knew.  Peter could easily be assuaged if their money problems were not in the picture.  “Uh, Tony Stark is paying for it.  Says he wants to give back to the community.”

That wasn’t technically a lie so he figured he wasn’t adding to Peter’s delusions.

“Mister Stark?”  Peter’s childish voice, one he never heard unless Peter was drop dead exhausted or injured, was slurred and slow.  “Ben, did I get to meet him?”

“He’s… around.”  Tony said, trying to find the quickest loopholes he could.  “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.”

Peter smiled, as if meeting his childhood hero was all he wanted in the world.  “Ben that would be so cool.”

“I know, buddy.”  Tony brushed a hand through Peter’s hair.  It seemed he had already given in to Peter’s delusions by accepting his role as Ben.  “I’m sure Tony Stark would love to meet you too.”

Peter giggled lightly, sending himself into a coughing fit.  Tony wiped away the phlegm, trying to ease Peter onto his side, to take pressure off his lungs.

 “‘M sorry.”  Peter mumbled, seemingly embarrassed.

“Please, Pete, I’ve had to do far worse.”  Tony said.

Peter’s brow furrowed.

“Ben?  You… never call me Pete.  You never…”  Peter frowned up at Tony, his glazed eyes full of mistrust and fear.  His breathing quickened, pushing Tony away.  “You’re not Ben.”

Oh, shit.

“Peter, it’s me.  It’s Mister Stark.”

Peter shoved at Tony, nearly knocking him over.  Even in Peter’s fevered state, his spider-strength shone through.

“Ben?!?  BEN?!?”  Peter screamed, trying to scramble away from Tony.

“It’s okay, kid, you’re alright, Ben’s here, I’m right here, buddy.”  Tony tried but Peter kept struggling to stand.  “Peter, you have to calm down or you’re going to hurt yourself more!”

Tony had never wished for May Parker’s presence more than he was now, but May was at work, unable to take the days off.  Next time, he was just paying her to miss the day.

“Ben??”  Peter shouted, seemingly unable to even recognize Tony’s voice, still struggling.

“FRIDAY, call Steve and Sam, get them down here, now!”  Tony ordered, trying to get Peter to lay back down.  “And call Shuri and ask what the hell is taking so long!”

Not three minutes of wrestling Peter from getting out of bed later, Steve sprinted into the room, Sam right behind him.

“I can’t calm him down!”  Tony shouted, grabbing for Peter’s hand which had been swatting at him.

“Steve, help Tony.”  Sam ordered.  Out of the entire Avengers, Sam had the most medical training as a counsellor for PTSD and other medical discharges so in case of mental breakdowns, Sam was always placed in charge.  “He’s gonna hurt himself more if he keeps trying to get up.”

Steve, ever the good soldier, immediately went to Peter’s other side, climbing onto the bed beside him.  Together, they were able to wrangle Peter back in bed, effectively pinning him down.

“No, please, don’t, Ben, Ben help me, please, stop, no, no!”  Peter’s cries for help tore at Tony’s heart, welling tears up in his eyes, but Tony had to stay strong.  He had to help Peter because Peter couldn’t help himself.

“Stark, what set this off?”  Sam asked, holding Peter’s legs as best as he could without getting kicked.

“He was hallucinating, thought I was his Uncle Ben.”  Tony answered, trying to keep his voice stable.  “Lost him as a kid, died in front of him.  He figured out I wasn’t Ben because I called him Pete but couldn’t remember who I was so he panicked.”

Peter suddenly went limp in their arms, still muttering pleas and distress calls.

“Peter?”  Tony called.  “Peter?!?”

“Please, I just want him back.”  Peter mumbled, completely incoherent.  “Please.”

“It’s okay, Peter.”  Sam hushed, stroking his leg in a circular motion, trying to ground the young teen.  “Just breathe.  All you need to worry about right now is breathing.”

Peter seemed to respond to Sam’s voice.  “Wha-?”

“Just breathe, Peter.”  Sam instructed, keeping up his ministrations.

Steve silently offered to take Sam’s place and Sam nodded, switching with Steve so now Steve was pinning Peter’s legs down, rubbing one hand up and down his calf, and Sam was beside Peter, with easier access to the teen who was now all but resting against Tony’s chest.

“It’s okay, Peter, just breathe.”  Sam exaggerated his own deep breathing, clear enough for Peter to hear.

Miraculously, Peter started to breathe in time with Sam.

“That’s good, Peter, that’s good.  Just like that.”

Tony felt brave enough to gently thread his fingers through Peter’s hair.

Sam nodded at him.  “Do you feel that, Peter?  That’s Mister Stark and Mister Captain Rogers.  You know them.”

Peter’s eyes fluttered open, still glazed over but Tony’s relief, a flash of recognition in them.

“M’ster Stark?”  Peter whispered.

“Yeah, buddy that’s me.”  Tony smiled, and Steve and Sam relaxed their grips on the kid.

“Yo’r cryin’.”  Peter mumbled, frowning.

Tony hadn’t even noticed.  “It’s okay, buddy.  You just focus on breathing.”

“Boss, incoming call from Princess Shuri.”  FRIDAY announced.

“We got him.”  Sam said, already moving Peter into a more comfortable position with Steve’s help.   “You take that.”

Tony nodded, and although he hated to leave Peter, he hurried out the door.  The faster he got this over with, the faster he could return to Peter.

“Yes, your Highness?”  Tony called out, answering Shuri’s call.

“I’m on my way.”  Shuri replied, all business.  “I’ve got an antiviral that should last for his system and help bring down his fever.”

Tony slumped in relief.  “Thank God.  How soon can you be here?”

“I’ll arrive in an hour, max.”  Shuri said.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”  Tony said.  “I’ve got to get back to Peter.”

“Go.”  Shuri all but ordered him.  “See you soon.”

Tony walked back into the room, where Peter seemed to be sleeping, with Sam and Steve sitting on the edge of his bed and computer chair respectively.

“Shuri’ll be here in an hour.”  Tony relayed.  “Said she’s got meds for him.”

Steve nodded.  “I’ll wait for her on the landing pad.”

Tony nodded, and settled in with Sam in case Peter woke up.

Day 4, 6, 22, 29- I'm Fine (Don't Peek Behind the Curtain)

This one was a great time, I got to just play around with Bakugou's trauma for funsies hehe this one has Shinsou in it. and here's the thing about Shinsou (I'm not fully caught up, no spoilers please) I know very little about his quirk. So I took... a lot of liberties. So if it turns out that's not how Shinsou's quirk works, that's a problem for future me.

prompts- shock, made to watch, "watch out!", troubled past resurfacing- hurt Bakugou, a lovely little walk down memory lane, with memory lane being everything Bakugou's ever suffered through, emotionsTM

AO3 Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50331418

While Shinsou wasn’t particularly thrilled with being in a group with Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugou, it really seemed like tempting fate at this point, he was glad that he was finally starting to catch up a little bit to his new classmates. Everyone else had already gotten a ridiculous amount of real world experience and they weren’t even done with their first year, and while one day out on patrol with Aizawa wouldn’t do too much to make up for it, at least it was a start.

The class had been thrilled at the thought of going out with their teachers, patrolling the warehouse district near the docks. Aizawa had told them that this wasn’t about fighting villains, but about how to do proper patrols. The teachers were hoping nobody ran into any villains, but, knowing 1A, they could fight if they did since they all had their probationary licenses. Shinsou had been a special case, since he’d transferred into the class after the test was given. Aizawa had vouched for him, to give him a temporary and restricted license until he could take the test, convincing the committee that since class 1A was constantly running into villains, that he needed to be able to fight alongside his classmates in an emergency. The license he had wasn’t like everyone else’s, but it was enough to let him get the real world experience he’d been looking for. Though, since he had to be in Aizawa’s presence the entire time he was out in the field, that also meant he’d gotten assigned to the ‘problem child’ group since Aizawa was also personally keeping an eye on them.

Bakugou had protested loudly at being stuck with Midoriya, but Aizawa had silenced him with a few whispered words. Shinsou hadn’t heard him exactly but it was something along the lines of ‘I need you to keep Midoriya and Todoroki from doing something stupid.’ Shinsou hadn’t been with the class long, but it was an open secret that Midoriya was always willing to go too far to try and save people, and that Todoroki often seemed way too easily convinced to do something illegal. And while Bakugou was often at the crux of shit that went down around 1A, it was well-known it hadn’t been his choice to be involved in any of it, ironically, making him the more sensible one. So it made sense to redirect Bakugou’s anger to something that he actively enjoyed, telling other people what to do.

“Stop walking ahead of me!” Bakugou snapped for what seemed like the twelfth time in ten minutes, which was followed by the twelfth “sorry, Kacchan,” in ten minutes, which was then followed by the twelfth “Don’t call me that!” in ten minutes.

Shinsou didn’t think he’d ever met a bigger asshole in his life.

Even though he was paying attention to everything around them, as Aizawa instructed, internally he was trying to wrap his head around why the fuck Midoriya and Kaminari called him their friend. Midoriya kept insisting that Bakugou just needed time to warm up to him, that he was softer and kinder than he seemed, but honestly, Shinsou didn’t believe him. Midoriya saw the best in literally everyone, Bakugou included, even if it wasn’t always really there. Kaminari said that Bakugou was an acquired taste, that he took some getting used to, and Shinsou thought maybe the whole class was just noseblind to Bakugou’s dickishness, for lack of a better term. Bakugou had only ever been insulting, arrogant, cocky, and a temperamental hothead around Shinsou, and he did not understand what his friends saw in the blonde.

“Will you just fucking shut up?” Shinsou groaned, running a hand down his face.

“Shut up.” Bakugou responded bluntly, his voice lower than expected. He suddenly stopped in the alleyway they were in, and Shinsou rolled his eyes. Midoriya and Todoroki stopped as well, no doubt to stop him from blowing Shinsou up for daring to tell him to be quiet.

“No seriously, shut up.” Shinsou shot back. “Not everything is about you all the fucking time. You’re not that special, dude.”

“I said shut up.” Bakugou hissed, his voice even lower. That unsettled Shinsou for some reason, and he stopped as well.

“Sensei?” Bakugou asked quietly, pointing at someone Shinsou could barely see. “They supposed to be here?”

Aizawa came to Bakugou, to look at what he was pointing at. Shinsou could just barely make out three people standing around, talking with each other. It looked like a few people talking on their breaks, and Shinsou was ready to ignore it and yell at Bakugou for being overdramatic when the men shook hands, and one pulled a thick wad of bills out of his pocket.

“There’s supposed to be a ship coming in about now.” Midoriya said, looking at the manifest schedule they’d been given earlier.

“I fucking know that Deku,” what, had he memorized the schedule? He’d barely even looked at it! “But something’s off. I can sense it.”

The wad of bills was exchanged for a briefcase, and when it was opened, the man who paid pulled out a white brick. That looked like…

“Drug runners.” Aizawa said with a hard look. “I was hoping they wouldn’t be here, but it seems they’re trying to get around the patrol schedule.”

Shinsou realized he was now a full-fledged member of 1A now, it barely being three weeks since he’d transferred in before running into villains. This was his first outing with his license, and now he was going to have to use it. That must have been some kind of record.

“You know them, Ai- I mean Eraserhead?” Midoriya asked.

“Not them specifically, but I’ve caught my fair share of drug smugglers here.” Aizawa said. “Ports are a big target for smugglers, hiding contraband on ships is easier than you think.”

Aizawa radioed the other teachers, relaying their position and that they might need backup. They couldn’t see any other villains beyond the three in front of them, but they all knew that didn’t mean those were the only ones.

“Dynamight, don’t ignite the drugs unless absolutely necessary.” Aizawa said, and to Shinsou’s mild surprise, Bakugou just nodded. “Try to keep that briefcase as undamaged as possible, we need it for evidence.”

The men hadn’t seemed to notice them yet, just talking and laughing as if one of them wasn’t holding an entire briefcase of what Shinsou thought was cocaine. They crept along the walls of the warehouses surrounding them, Bakugou walking quieter than Shinsou thought possible for the blonde. Red light began to shine from Midoriya, and Shinsou felt the temperature drop a few degrees.

“Easy.” Aizawa said, waving his hand a little. “Mindfreak, get their attention. Get as many of them under your control as you can, get them to surrender. Only then do we go in, and I’m on point. Just arresting them is the goal, don’t fight unless you have to.”

Everyone nodded.

Aizawa nodded at him, and Shinsou took a deep breath. Getting more than one person under his control was hard, and keeping them under control was even harder, but he just had to keep them under control until they were arrested. He could do this.

Fiddling with his artificial vocal cords for a moment, disguising his voice into something older, something more adult, he called out, “Excuse me? Can you help me?”

All three men turned to him, shouting at him in surprise, and Shinsou pounced. He had to attack each one individually, blanketing their minds with his quirk. The first one fell easily, and the second one wasn’t far behind, but the third one, the one holding the briefcase, clearly had psychic defenses. There wasn’t a way for him to enter without being crushed, his mind sharp, prepared for intruders.

Splitting himself in two was already making his head throb, his connection with their minds weak and flaky, hanging on by a thread and getting weaker as he tried to get briefcase guy.

Dammit, he couldn’t hold this, he was losing his grip on the other two. His legs wobbled, his heart stuttered, but he shouted out a, “surrender!”

The two he had control over immediately got down on their knees, putting their hands behind their head. He heard Aizawa say, “go!” but he couldn’t move from his spot. His vision went a little blurry, but he saw Aizawa and Bakugou go after briefcase guy, who had some sort of emitter quirk, which surprised Shinsou, since he thought he would’ve had a mental type quirk due to his shields.

Midoriya shouted, “Go help them, I got this!” and Todoroki joined the fight after handing Midoriya his cuffs. Midoriya was quick and precise, and both of them were arrested without much issue. Shinsou slumped against the wall, panting a little as he retracted his mind. The two woke up, and shouted, but Midoriya was already taking them away, getting them out of the line of fire. Shinsou could barely hear a “please stay here so you don’t get hurt” over the sounds of the battle, and he couldn’t believe just how true that rumor was.

He turned back to the battle, and he realized briefcase guy was more than a simple drug smuggler. The bastard fought as if he’d been trained, catching Aizawa’s capture weapon in his hands and using it against him, throwing him towards the water. Todoroki shot out a block of ice, catching their teacher before he fell into the ocean.

Okay. He could end this. He could do this.

“Over here you bastard!” Shinsou shouted, getting the briefcase guy’s attention once more.

Shinsou attacked with everything he had, trying to blanket the guy’s mind as he had the others. Going up against one was way easier, but damn, this guy had thorough mental shields. People who were psinull, without any psychic training whatsoever, getting in their mind was like walking through a house without walls. But this guy, he didn’t just have walls, he had fortresses, reinforced with training and expertise. Shinsou didn’t give up, though, he just had to find this guy’s weak point.

“Watch out!”

So focused on the guy’s mind, Shinsou hadn’t seen the emitter blast headed straight for him, Midoriya’s voice his only warning.

Caught by surprise, Shinsou didn’t have time to get his body to jump out of the way. He felt something slam into him, but it wasn’t a blast of energy. It was a person, propelled by an explosion he felt at the edge of his body. Bakugou smashed into him at full speed, his momentum forcing Shinsou out of the way. Shinsou crashed to the ground, but he wasn’t flattened by two hundred pounds of muscle and temper.

Bakugou had tried to blast them both out of the way, but he hadn’t had the time to get both of them out of the way, Bakugou getting hit by the edge of the blast. He was thrown down the alleyway, landing in a heap.

“Bakugou!” Shinsou shouted, scrambling to his feet and running to his classmate. He could hear Todoroki’s ice move and then the emitter blasts went silent, so Todoroki must’ve caught the guy. Shinsou barely noticed as he ran to Bakugou’s side. “Bakugou, are you alright?”

The blonde was trembling a little, the excess energy radiating from his hands, his ribs, his face, but then dissolving into the air. His hands hovered over Bakugou, knowing Bakugou didn’t like to be touched, but wanting to help anyway. Bakugou groaned, and then began to push himself up on his hands. “I’m fi--” Bakugou started, but his voice cut off suddenly. Bakugou turned to him, with a confused frown on his face, surprise in his eyes, and Shinsou gasped.

Little characters were carving themselves into Bakugou’s cheeks, and bruises were sprouting across Bakugou’s neck.

The energy began to diminish from his face, and Shinsou realized the energy dispersions must be targets of the quirk. Bakugou fell back on his ass, still wearing that confused look, and Shinsou saw blood starting to stain the orange parts of Bakugou’s uniform. Shinsou got Bakugou’s gloves off, and little characters were writing themselves in Bakugou’s blood on his hands too.

Shinsou wrapped Bakugou’s arm around his shoulder and hauled them both to their feet. They hadn’t even been able to make it two steps before Shinsou heard a sickening crack!’ and Bakugou shouted, his right leg suddenly unable to hold weight. Shinsou could barely look at how badly it was broken before his stomach lurched at the sight. They went from walking together to Shinsou all but dragging Bakugou forward, and Shinsou could feel Bakugou’s arm start to tremble as they went. Bruises spread across his shoulders, down his arms, and Shinsou ran as fast as he could carrying an entire person.

“Sensei!” Shinsou shouted, getting everyone’s attention from briefcase guy to them.

Todoroki immediately rushed forward to grab Bakugou’s other arm, and together they dragged him to Aizawa. His mentor was a seasoned professional, able to keep calm when everyone else was panicking, but seeing a look of fear, even just hidden in his eyes, scared the fuck out of him.

Instead of talking to them, he turned back to the man encased in Todoroki’s ice. “What the hell is your quirk?”

Briefcase guy just sneered. “Isn’t that the brat from the news? The villain one or something? I wouldn’t have thought he’d be so affected from watching TV.”

“If you don’t answer my question, I’m going to throw you into the water and tell the cops you jumped.” Aizawa said harshly. Shinsou knew Aizawa would never do so, not just because it was illegal but because Aizawa wasn’t a murderer, but he was obviously trying to convince the man he was. He must be scared if he went straight to threats.

“Alright, alright!” Briefcase guy panicked. “My quirk makes internal pain external. Guilt, fear, regret, that kind of thing.”

“Release him now!”

“I-I can’t! It lasts an hour, there’s nothing I can do once it’s started!”

Shinsou’s blood ran cold. Bakugou would have to go through an hour of this? He could barely stand as it was! Instinctively, both he and Todoroki turned to look at Bakugou, and the characters inscribing themselves on Bakugou’s face were beginning to form words.

“Sensei, I did as you said-- Kacchan!” Midoriya then joined them, Shinsou wasn’t sure where he’d been but right now it didn’t matter.

As soon as Midoriya came into their sight, a burst of blood spewed from Bakugou’s mouth.

“Deku, go!” Aizawa said, recognizing something Shinsou didn’t. Somehow Bakugou getting worse around Midoriya didn’t make sense to him, but it made sense to his mentor. “He can’t be around you right now. Todoroki, you go with him. Find another teacher, call an ambulance.”

Aizawa switched spots with Todoroki, taking Bakugou’s arm. Another choked gasp of blood started running down Bakugou’s chin. Todoroki and Midoriya looked like they didn’t want to go, wanting to stay by their friend’s side, but after a brief moment, they both took off.

“This way. I want you with me.” Aizawa said, just reaching down to Bakugou’s knees to carry him away from the ice, heading to a spot Aizawa must have deemed acceptable.

“Why me?” Shinsou asked. “Why not send me away too?”

“Because I think your quirk can help.” Aizawa stated, kneeling down and setting Bakugou down. “And you’re the only one here who doesn’t know him. You don’t have history with him, you won’t make him worse.”

Shinsou nodded and his mind a tornado of thought. How could he help Bakugou right now?

“Okay, Bakugou, I need you to answer me.” Shinsou said, looking directly at Bakugou’s face. To his horror, the words were becoming legible through the blood. “Talk to me, say something.”

Bakugou opened his mouth again, his chin still dripping blood, but he managed a quiet, “yeah?”

With the opening, Shinsou went to Bakugou’s mind, and he was surprised to feel a jaggedness he hadn’t felt before. It almost reminded him of when he’d entered Midoriya’s mind at the Sports’ Festival. Midoriya hadn’t felt like anyone he’d ever put under his control, and Bakugou’s mind even sharper than that. He got a flash of Bakugou’s memories, the quirk obviously bringing them to the forefront of Bakugou’s mind, and he could see Aizawa’s disapproving stare, and he could feel an immense amount of guilt, a feeling of not hitting a standard someone had set for you.

Shinsou didn’t even have time to figure out what that meant when he felt Bakugou’s mind kick him out, and he fell backwards from the force.

“Sensei, you gotta leave.” Shinsou said, scrambling back to his feet.

Aizawa turned to him, a frown deeply inscribed into his face.

“There’s something there with you too.” Shinsou said. “I think he feels like he disappointed you or something, but I can’t be sure, it might be the quirk.”

Actually Shinsou was very sure, but he knew Bakugou wouldn’t want him broadcasting his inner feelings to the world. Aizawa pursed his lips, but sighed, and nodded. “Do what you can, as soon as medical gets here, I’ll send them over to you.”

Shinsou nodded, and with a sinking heart, he watched as their teacher headed away from them too. Turning back to Bakugou, he found crimson eyes glaring at him, but he could see the pain he was trying to hide. The bruises started to spread down from Bakugou’s neck to his collarbone.

“Look, I’ll tell them it was just the quirk la… ter.” Shinsou said before his mouth went dry.

Terror struck him again as more characters began etching themselves into his neck. Shinsou opened his mouth to try again, but the words on Bakugou’s face were finished. His heart stuttered for a moment as he read ‘pathetic’ on his left and ‘weak’ on his right. Internal pain external. Bakugou must have had these thoughts on his own, but now he couldn’t hide them, as they were literally carving themselves into his body. Shinsou looked to his hands, and found the words ‘cruel’ and ‘villain’ finishing their last strokes.

Bakugou thought of himself as a villain? That… that was impossible. Bakugou was always so confident in himself, he was constantly yelling at everyone that he was going to be the best hero in Japan, better than All Might himself. No, no, this had to be the quirk. No one with Bakugou’s superiority complex and ego thought of themselves like that. Briefcase guy’s psychic shields were making more sense now, putting thoughts into other people’s heads or amplifying ones that were already there required psychic talent, even if it was done by emitting energy.

Shinsou shook his head clear of those awful thoughts, and he tried again. “Bakugou, you can’t kick me out like that. I know having someone else in your head probably feels terrifying right now, but I think I can help you. I should at least be able to knock you out so you don’t have to suffer through this. Come on, Bakugou, answer me.”

The glare that was badly disguising the fear in Bakugou’s eyes intensified, but after a moment, he got a “fuck you” with more syllables than letters due to Bakugou’s stutters and gasps, and Shinsou slipped back into Bakugou’s mind. The jaggedness still took him by surprise, but he forced himself through it, trying to blanket Bakugou’s mind with his control. Bakugou’s mind kept lashing out at him, fear at the forefront of the assault, but Shinsou was better prepared this time. Bakugou was like Midoriya, he could fight Shinsou off, but Shinsou had gotten better at controlling others with just his will. He would help Bakugou dammit.

The second Bakugou’s entire mind was covered, weakly, thinly, but covered, it was a simple “sleep” and Bakugou’s eyes closed, his mind going dark as Shinsou withdrew himself. Shinsou sighed, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. But not even a full minute went by before he heard another nauseating ‘crack’ and Bakugou’s right arm snapped to the side, and Bakugou woke back up with a scream. The pain must have been so intense it woke him up. Which meant that Shinsou’s quirk knocking him out wouldn’t work, as he was only able to convince a mind to shut down for sleep, not be completely unconscious. Honestly at this point, Shinsou didn’t even know if that would even work. Dammit. Dammit!

Okay, think Shinsou, Bakugou needs you. He’s in excruciating agony and can’t be put to sleep. How else can he help? Think, dammit, think!

He couldn’t think. The now finished word on Bakugou’s neck, thankfully avoiding his aorta, stared right into Shinsou’s soul.

Monster.

Shinsou couldn’t do anything but stare in disbelief for a moment. Not even twenty minutes ago, Shinsou had been shouting at him, thinking he was nothing more than a nuisance, an asshole who he happened to unfortunately get stuck with. Bakugou was just an egotistical jerk, a self-important bastard who thought himself better than everyone. But now, the pain and fear Shinsou couldn’t deny was staring him right in the face. Bakugou actually thought of himself as a monster. Tears were streaming down his face before he even realized he was crying.

“Bakugou…” Shinsou breathed, heartbroken at the sight.

His only response was a choked, gurgling noise, but it was a response. Shinsou slipped back into Bakugou’s mind, finally starting to understand the jaggedness. Midoriya had been through a lot, he hadn’t told Shinsou everything, but he could still tell that Midoriya was haunted by it. It was obvious that something had happened since Midoriya was unusually attached to Bakugou, who had been nothing but a jerk to him, and while everyone in class speculated (and Todoroki created wild conspiracy theories) no one actually knew what had happened. But something had, something that scarred their minds into being jagged and reactive.

This time, Shinsou didn’t try to blanket Bakugou’s mind, instead trying to focus on helping Bakugou through the memories he was being attacked with, his (only) idea that if he could help soothe the memories, the injuries wouldn’t be as powerful. His internal pain was being reflected externally, and if he could help soothe the internal pain, hopefully the external pain wouldn’t be so strong. Shinsou had no idea what to expect, but he braced himself as best as he could.

Certain memories were connected to the words that were still bleeding down Bakugou’s face,  and Shinsou came to the first one, and the feeling of pathetic was so strong that Shinsou nearly lost his grip on it. He could see flashes of the memory, a moving sludge encasing his whole body, going down his throat, and struggling to breathe. The force of the memory was so strong, Shinsou could feel his own throat closing.

“I couldn’t just stand there and watch you die.”

That was Midoriya’s voice. It may not have been shouted when it happened, but the voice echoed so powerfully that Shinsou was thrown from the memory for a moment. He came back with a stronger grip this time, his mind racing on how he could ease this obviously debilitating pain? ‘It wasn’t your fault’ didn’t seem right, and ‘it wasn’t personal helping people is just who he is’ was definitely the wrong answer. Dammit, quick, Shinsou, his face is still bleeding.

“You weren’t pathetic.”  Telepathy itself was a small part of Shinsou’s quirk, as controlling people’s minds needed telepathy just to get into other people’s heads, but he rarely ever used it like this. Somehow though, he’d never been more confident speaking directly into someone’s mind. “It wasn’t pathetic of you to get caught. You did everything you could. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. That doesn’t mean you were pathetic.”

Shinsou could feel the quirk trying to amplify Bakugou’s emotions, to try and kick him out again, but he pushed hard, keeping his mantra the same, that Bakugou hadn’t been pathetic to get attacked. He could feel the memory slow down, and start to slide away from the forefront of Bakugou’s mind. He couldn’t shove the memory away entirely, the word was already written into Bakugou’s face, but this was the best he could do. He could still use his own body rather than be essentially trapped in Bakugou’s mind, and looking out of his eyes showed that ‘pathetic’ had at least stopped bleeding, and was beginning to fade. His idea was working, thank fuck.

Once pathetic was taken care of as much as he could, Shinsou then moved steadily in Bakugou’s mind to ‘weak’. He knew what to brace himself for now, and weak was a much easier memory to grasp than pathetic. The flashes of weak were stronger, and Shinsou didn’t know if that meant that the quirk was trying to amplify it now that it had lost pathetic, or if Bakugou had been more affected by it, but that didn’t really change his game plan so he just took in the flashes with what strength he had.

The back of Shinsou’s neck burned, and seeing his friends’ horrified faces as Bakugou was dragged into darkness made his stomach lurch. The forest around was dark, but Midroiya and Todoroki were as bright as stars, and Bakugou had been unable to turn away, and not just because Dabi was holding him by his neck. Weakness flooded his mind, Bakugou not even all the way through the warp before he was already screaming at himself for being weak. Shinsou was now very much doubting that Bakugou actually had the superiority complex he’d thought he’d seen in Bakugou’s arrogance. Bakugou clearly used arrogance and cockiness as a cover to hide the fact that he thought of himself as pathetic and weak, that he was a hindrance to everyone around him.

The flashes were less focused this time, going from the forest to what was no doubt Kamino and then back again. Seeing Midoriya, Iida, and Kirishima in the air, and hating the hope that that brought him. Bakugou had wanted to rescue himself, but he couldn’t, and he felt lesser for it, but still he took Kirishima’s hand. And then being blasted with the horrible feeling of being trapped as Compress used his quirk and ensnared him in that tiny ball, the feeling of suffocation coming back tenfold.

Everyone knew that Bakugou getting kidnapped was the reason they were all forced into the dorm system, that he was the reason why the school was constantly in trouble and on thinner and thinner ice. He’d heard plenty of kids talking about Bakugou in the past, even before he transferred into the hero course, talking about how it was Bakugou’s fault for getting kidnapped, that he must have done something stupid to let it happen, that his cockiness wasn’t deserved as he hadn’t gotten himself free, and how everything now was his fault. Shinsou hadn’t paid much attention to it, he rarely paid attention to gossip, especially since whenever someone learned of his quirk, and his heroic intentions were put into question. (When he’d told his general studies classmates he wanted to transfer to the hero course, the rumor that he was a traitor started because his quirk could only lead to villainy, and he’d struggled to shut it down.) So he’d heard people talking about Bakugou, blaming him for the state of the school, but he hadn’t thought about it afterwards. He hadn’t even conceived the idea that Bakugou blamed himself more than any of those gossipers.

There was something else in Bakugou’s mind, he could just barely hear All Might’s voice, but this was deeper in the memory, and Shinsou could feel the same jaggedness but worse, and decided to leave that alone. Something in Bakugou’s mind was protecting that, and Shinsou didn’t want to fight him over his own memories.

“This wasn’t your fault.” This felt more right to say that, especially feeling the blame that Bakugou was putting on himself. “You aren’t weak for taking Kirishima’s hand. You were strong for letting them help you, for taking yourself out so the pros could go in without holding back. You kept yourself alive, that’s what matters. This wasn’t your fault, you didn’t choose any of this, you didn’t deserve any of that. You’re only fifteen, Bakugou, the League were grown adults, experienced villains deliberately going after someone who couldn’t have seen it coming. You weren’t weak, Bakugou, this wasn’t your fault.”

The quirk again tried to fight him, tried to shut him up, but Shinsou refused to go unheard. Bakugou would know this wasn’t his fault if it killed him. As with pathetic, weak started to slow down, growing distant in Bakugou’s mind. Shinsou didn’t know whether or not Bakugou believed him but he was at least hearing him, and that was all that mattered for now. Weak had stopped bleeding as well, and Shinsou wanted to move fast to the other, not exactly aware of how much time had passed, but trying to let whatever time left that Bakugou was still forced to deal with this be as easy as Shinsou could make it.

He did promise himself to pay more attention to what people were saying about Bakugou though, because while the emotions didn’t come from outside forces, they reinforced it in his mind, and Shinsou knew how awful that feeling felt, and he didn’t want Bakugou to feel it as well as deal with all of the other shit he was clearly going through.

As soon as weak was as far away as Shinsou could push it, he immediately moved onto the next one, ‘cruel’. But what Shinsou braced himself for wasn’t the emotion radiating off of the memory, and Shinsou nearly doubled over from the sheer magnitude of regret that he was inundated with. A quick press gave him flashes of conflicting feelings, the emotion that Bakugou had been feeling when the memory happened, and the regret he felt remembering it. He saw a classroom, and Midoriya cowering at Bakugou’s feet, a desk with scorch marks off to the side. Shinsou pulled away from that, not wanting to see his friend like that. Judging by their looks, this was middle school at the most, it didn’t look like 1A and he knew Aizawa wouldn’t have put up with that shit. Bakugou had been a bully in the past to Midoriya, and he’d loved it back then, but now all that was left was the bitter taste of regret. Bakugou actually did have a superiority complex, he could feel it in how he lorded his power over Midoriya, feeling like it was his right to do it since he felt he was better than Midoriya, though Shinsou wasn’t sure why. But somehow, he did also have an inferiority complex, he could feel it woven into the regret Bakugou had over these memories. How the fuck was that possible?

Okay, figure that out later, these memories were taunting Bakugou with his past cruelty, but Shinsou needed a way to at least distract him from it. Shinsou couldn’t stop the regret, nor would he even if he could, regrets were often what made a person change after hurting someone else, and he didn’t want Bakugou to lose what character development he had gotten since. This was Bakugou’s journey to go through, and Shinsou’s route to help him through this pain.

“You’ve grown since.” Shinsou couldn’t believe he was saying this, because he hadn’t thought Bakugou capable of said growth, but everything he’d ever known about the blonde had been completely warped and changed since this started, so he felt more confident in saying it. “People make mistakes, Bakugou. You’ve learned from them. Looking back on the past does nothing, and I’m sure Midoriya has forgiven you.”

Jaggedness smacked Shinsou in the face, and he felt his own nose start to drip blood. Okay, that was the wrong thing to say, he got it.

In checking his body for the effects, he saw that cruel had stopped bleeding, but it hadn’t begun to fade yet, so something he was saying was working. With the other memories, Shinsou could ease their strength, take it away from the quirk forcing Bakugou to think only of them, and right now that was his only goal. Bakugou’s feelings over his mistreatment of Midoriya were his own, but at the very least, Shinsou could set them back to simmer in the back of his mind until he was ready to deal with them, stopping the quirk from torturing him with them.

“Your past isn’t all of who you are, Bakugou. Sometimes redemption arcs are the best stories we can tell.”

Shinsou could tell that it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t nearly enough to actually help Bakugou through what he was feeling, but it was enough to get the memories out of the quirk. No wonder Bakugou had gotten so much worse just from looking at Midoriya.  Those feelings did dismiss his idea though that Midoriya trying to save Bakugou from that sludge had been the event that had made Bakugou so angry at Midoriya. It could still be what made Midoriya so attached, but Shinsou couldn’t be sure. He’d just ask when this was all over.

With cruel sliding back with the others, Shinsou pressed on, exhausted but desperate to keep his friend from the pain that was still overwhelming his senses. Shinsou could tell that his pushing the memories away was helping, able to sense that the pain wasn’t so intense anymore, but it was like going from one hundred percent to eighty. Shinsou couldn’t solve all of Bakugou’s pain, but he was going to keep trying to soothe what he could. Regardless of Bakugou’s assholery, in the past or in the present, he didn’t deserve this kind of pure agony.

Villain also didn’t have the same emotion that Shinsou would’ve thought, nor the same memories. He thought it might’ve been tied to Midoriya but what he found was somehow even worse. Chained to a chair with so many restraints that Shinsou couldn’t even count them all, and that was just what Bakugou could see and feel, surrounded by the same people who tormented his class, the same bastards who attacked the USJ, unleashed Nomus onto the world, who led to the fight that would bring about All Might’s downfall. Shinsou couldn’t even imagine being surrounded by so many villains, let alone be as calm as Bakugou had portrayed himself to be.

“People… rules… heroes… we’re all shackled by them.”

Shinsou didn’t have to have met Shigaraki to know that that was his voice, even before Bakugou’s mind recognized it fully. He was pitching to Bakugou, an opportunity to join the League of Villains, that he had the stuff that they were looking for… and the temperament.

There was no way to hide that Bakugou’s attitude had been the reason the League had gone after him, and that was the main reason why everyone else blamed him. ‘If he hadn’t been such an asshole on live TV, then we wouldn’t have to be the ones suffering the consequences’, was the overwhelming majority opinion he’d overheard. Even members in the press implied that in their questions, even with Aizawa defending Bakugou’s character at that press conference. He could distantly hear Aizawa’s voice on what he could just sense as a tv, and oh gods, Bakugou had seen that? While literally in the middle of a hell that couldn’t be described?

Oh gods. This is why Bakugou blamed himself. Shinsou couldn’t imagine already feeling weak for getting kidnapped, for being restrained to the point where he couldn’t move for the second time, and seeing grown ass adults tell everyone watching that he was going to join the league. And Bakugou had gone through all of that. Alone. With only his teacher to stand up for him in a room full of people who’d never met him yet seemed to hate him for no reason, surrounded by villains who thought the exact same thing. And no one had said anything nice once they’d come back to school, only adding to how shitty Bakugou felt about this happening in the first place. No one outside of 1A had felt bad for Bakugou for getting kidnapped, only blaming class 1A but mostly him for the changes in their lives. Saying the exact same things that the villains had over those horrible days.

No wonder Bakugou saw himself as a villain, as a monster. Everyone else did.

This time, Shinsou didn’t have words. He couldn’t think of anything to say, just repeating choppy utterances weren’t even real sentences, desperate for anything at all to say.

“You’re a hero, they were wrong, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, they’re wrong, they’re all wrong, you saved me, you save people, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, you’re a hero.”

Villain didn’t fade like the other ones, but Shinsou could feel the memories slipping through his fingers. Something was happening, the quirk was doing something he hadn’t expected, and he chased after the memories he’d already taken care of. It was like something was drawing them back, a gravitational force he didn’t understand, drawing in the other memories and collecting them into what seemed like one mass.

In telepathy, sometimes when two people are connected for a long time, the stronger telepath could sometimes see creations being formed without them actually being there, sort of a way to rationalize what was going on with the signals the brain was getting. The stronger telepath’s mind could create a picture that only they could see that was deeply connected to the actual feelings and memories of the weaker telepath. Since Bakugou wasn’t telepathically inclined at all, he probably wouldn’t be able to remember this as a telepath might, but as Shinsou looked at what the quirk was turning the weaker memories into, he thought it was for the best that Bakugou wouldn’t be able to.

All four of the words he’d seen amalgamated into one, swirling black hole that turned into what Shinsou thought looked like a building with a single door, with MONSTER emblazoned on it in bright red, flickering neon. It almost looked like the door before a final boss fight in a video game, but Shinsou wasn’t deterred. Besides, this wasn’t real per say, this was just a psychic projection of the emotions the quirk was bringing out in Bakugou.

It was only after he opened the door that he heard a lock snap, and he could sense that the quirk which had its own psychic energy, and was trying to keep him out, was trying to create this into a singular pain that Bakugou couldn’t escape. However, Shinsou had moved as soon as the doorknob had created itself, and the quirk hadn’t been able to lock the door before he got in. Shinsou was going to discuss how this quirk tried to fight him with Aizawa, as he was ninety-nine percent sure that briefcase guy was still controlling the quirk psychically because otherwise he didn’t think the quirk would be fighting him so hard, psychic quirks needed direction and couldn’t generate it on their own.

At first, Shinsou couldn’t perceive anything, only to hear a sound that sounded suspiciously like a child crying. A light flickered on, and a tiny form was illuminated, on their knees, hunched over with their hands out. That was what had been crying. At first, Shinsou thought that this was a projection of Bakugou’s inner child, but when a small head looked up at him, he realized that it was Bakugou as he was, just much smaller than the teenager Shinsou knew. When he recognized Shinsou, he blushed fiercely, unable to look Shinsou in the eyes, somehow getting even smaller. Shinsou wasn’t good at kids, but he thought maybe Bakugou was the size of a five-year-old.

“Bakugou?”

“I didn’t mean to.” Gods, Bakguou sounded so small, Shinsou’s heart just broke all over again.

Shinsou went to his friend, and knelt in front of him, and gasped when he saw Bakugou’s hands were covered in blood.

“Bakugou, what happened? Why is there blood on your hands?”

The sobs just got stronger.

A television screen formed behind them, and from the memories Shinsou had seen, this was the same room he’d been held in by the League of Villains, just empty. Instead of All-for-One on the screen, flashes of memories began to play. Blood bursting from Best Jeanist’s abdomen, Midoriya staring at him with his big green eyes and he could hear Bakugou’s voice say “Why was I the one who ended All Might?”, then it flashed to being in the air, holding Kirishima’s hand, big drops of blood in the air as Mount Lady fell, and then after the fight, All Might in his smaller form, steam emanating from all over his body, his finger pointing straight out. And… somehow, Shinsou could tell that Bakugou felt like it wasn’t pointing at him.

Shinsou rarely acted without thinking. His relationship with other people required him to think first before any action, no matter how small. So many people were quick to jump to the thought that he was a villain that he had to think everything through, even if it was asking to borrow a pencil or asking for notes if he missed a day. But now he wasn’t thinking at all. He just moved.

Arms wrapped around the small form, bringing Bakugou close, holding him as tight as he could. Bakugou just kept sobbing, and Shinsou cupped the back of his head, tucking him into Shinsou’s shoulder. Bakugou was so small that Shinsou could wrap his entire body around with room to spare, crossing his legs and holding all of his friend with all of him.

Shinsou wasn’t sure how long he just held his friend before he felt a hand touch his shoulder, his body’s shoulder. Immediately, he pulled out of Bakugou’s mind, and when he came back to himself he saw Aizawa standing there. There were flashing red lights of an ambulance, where he could see people moving in the back, and they approached quickly. Shinsou stepped away as soon as they did, and he looked back at Bakugou for the first time since he slipped into his mind. The cuts had stopped bleeding, and weak had faded to the point where he couldn’t read it clearly anymore. The wounds were still horrific to look at, but Shinsou thought he’d gotten them down to a level that was more manageable. He thought he might ask Bakugou if he was okay, or at least in less pain than before, but Bakugou’s eyes were already closed, and his breathing was even. The medics must have sedated him, with something stronger than a mental suggestion. It actually seemed to keep him asleep this time, so Shinsou allowed himself to relax a little.

He checked his phone, and to his surprise it had only been a few minutes. He knew telepaths perceived time differently when they were inside someone’s head, but that seemed a bit extreme, even for him. At least Bakugou could sleep off the rest of the hour now.

“You alright?” Aizawa asked, placing his hand on Shinsou’s shoulder again. “Your nose was bleeding.”

Shinsou nodded, his throat tight, wiping away the blood. “I'm fine.”

Aizawa clapped him on the back, and then went to deal with the medics and everything else. Shinsou took a deep breath, and he walked over to where Midoriya and Todoroki were. His friends were talking, Midoriya practically vibrating with worry.

“Shinsou!” Ah, he’d been noticed. “Is everything alright? How’s Kacchan?”

“The medics are helping him now.” Shinsou said, skirting the question. “Just a matter of time now.”

“Are you alright, Shinsou?” Midoriya asked, his green eyes full of sincerity. He could feel his stomach constrict a little, the echoes of Bakugou’s feelings still fresh in his mind.

“I’ll be alright.” Shinsou said. “I’ve just… got a lot to think about.”

Whumptober day 22 - Hallucination

A short fill for the twenty-second day of @whumptober2019​, also available on Ao3.

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

Unlike most other times, this fight it wasn’t the villain that was the most difficult to take down. In fact, once they’d finally managed to find the guy, it really only took Bucky holding him as Tony took away his weapon and then they were free to hand him over to SHIELD.

No, the far bigger problem was said weapon, which he’d been using to shoot some kind of exploding mushroom of a kind that apparently gave people the worst trip of their lives.

Tony had no idea what they were seeing, but their fear was more than obvious.

That, too, wouldn’t have been a huge issue. Once they’d figured it out, putting on some masks wasn’t a problem, and the SHIELD agents were able to help most of the regular people.

The biggest problem was the fact that some of the Avengers had been hit as well. Tony’s armor protected him well enough, and both Sam and Clint kept enough distance that they’d managed to keep from being hit. Even Bucky, now wearing a mouth guard rather than a muzzle that had been designed by Tony himself, had been safe enough. And he couldn’t help but be entirely grateful for the fact that they hadn’t called in the Hulk, because he wasn’t sure how they’d have dealt with that.

As it were, three of their members had no idea who the others were.

Natasha wasn’t the worst, honestly. Seeing her this way was awful, but her initial reaction had been to run and hide away. Clint and Sam were following her, with some help from JARVIS’ locating of her Widow’s Bites, but it was mostly to make sure nothing else happened to her and to make sure she wouldn’t be alone whenever the stuff wore off.

Bucky had been quick to intercept Steve before he could try to attack any civilians, and was holding his own well enough. Tony had been the one to intercept Thor, only just in time to keep his lightning from hitting anything it shouldn’t.

They were the ones in most trouble because, despite the fact that they could theoretically take on Steve and Thor, they didn’t want to hurt their friends when they were obviously already afraid of what they were seeing. It left them mostly taking hits so they wouldn’t hit anything or anyone else, as well as trying to reassure their friends that everything was fine, that it would be better soon.

Predictably, it seemed like Steve and Thor couldn’t hear them.

“You okay?” he asked Bucky, grunting as Thor slammed his hammer down again. His arms were going somewhat numb, but he was also a little hesitant about letting Thor hit his chest full-on.

Initially, all he heard was a responding grunt. “Not great, but managing.” There was a ‘thud’, followed by another grunt. “Just hope it wears off soon.”

“Agreed,” Tony sighed. “J, any estimation?”

“Unfortunately, no one has shown indications of the effects wearing off yet.”

Tony groaned, hearing Bucky do the same. “Maybe their enhanced metabolism will make it wear off sooner?” he tried hopefully, bringing his arms up to fend off yet another hit. Worryingly, the armor was starting to show some wear and tear, but he still didn’t want to hurt Thor. That meant he might be getting in trouble soon, and from what he was hearing, Bucky seemed to be sharing the same problem.

“... This is gonna be a long day," the assassin groaned.

“... I think so, too.”

Whumptober: They Made Me Do It

Leonardo watched Michelangelo run round and round the table, getting chased by the wasp. He timed their passes and got ready to jump, just in case he needed to intervene.

"He's really turned running away screaming into an art form," Raphael quipped, and Leonardo couldn't hide a little amused smile.

"Well, at least he's good at something, right?" Donatello commented. Michelangelo, almost immediately after, tripped, and Donatello followed up with: "Good-ish."

The wasp came crashing down after the youngest, and the older three took that as their cue, hopping out of their hiding spot and towards the giant insect.

But, of course, Michelangelo just had to disobey orders, and struck out with his nunchucks, taking both the wasp, and the others, down in the process before getting dragged around in the wasps panic. Donatello and Raphael were thrown against the wall, leaving only Leonardo standing.

Well, per usual, it was up to Leonardo to do something about it. Pushing back his twinge of annoyance, he drew his katanas, ready to end that thing then and there.

The wasp went at him, much faster than he anticipated, and promptly jabbed its stinger into his arm. His vision went dark as pain erupted in his right arm. The next time he could see again, the wasp was dead on the floor and his brothers were discussing why it died.

"...The wasp died because it lost its stinger." Donatello concluded, giving the dead wasp an experimental poke.

Leonardo couldn't swallow his indignance and blurted out: "Yeah, in me! Thanks a lot, Mikey!" That wasn't like him. He didn't usually yell like that. He wasn't too snappy.

...Usually.

"Heh, sorry dude." Michelangelo laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Let me see that," Donatello said, grabbing the stinger and pulling it out harshly. Leonardo let out a short sound of pain and rubbed the swollen spot on his arm. Ow. "Are you okay?" The purple banded turtle asked.

"Pretty sure, but I think I'll think I'll be…" he trailed off with a twitch. Something was pulling him to the far corner of the room. Something was… He needed to find something. "...fine."

Donatello's eyes widened in astonishment as he looked the stinger over. "Mutations are generally anthropomorphic. I've never seen mutagen create giants like this before!"

"Yeah, real fascinating, Donnie." Raphael elbowed him, beak wrinkled and his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The pull intensified to the point it was almost painful, and Leonardo was compelled to follow it. He turned and wandered off to a seemingly inconspicuous pile of newspapers. Pulling them away revealed a large yellowish oval. An egg, he realized.

That egg was important.

He needed to protect that egg.

"Woah, look!" He said instead of keeping it to himself.

"It's some kind of... egg," Donatello said as he approached.

No duh, he snarked silently.

"Stand back. I'll handle this," Michelangelo said confidently, grabbing his nunchucks.

"I'm betting on the egg," Raphael huffed with a smirk.

A surge of protectiveness ran through Leonardo. It wasn't supposed to be there. The egg wasn't anything more than a danger. Still, he yelled, "Wait!" He didn't want to say the rest, he didn't want to say any of it, but it was like he was possessed. "We're not hurting it. We came here to find out what the Kraang are up to, and this egg is our only clue. We should take it back to the lab and let Donnie analyze it."

"Great idea!" Raphael snapped, "Let's take the mutant wasp egg into our home where we live! What's the worst that can happen?"

"It's not safe leaving us around. It'll be fine, I'll just keep an eye on it."

"I'll get it," Michelangelo interfered, reaching down.

No! He'll drop it! This will all be for naught. Well that voice was new.

"Hands off!" Leonardo shouted and pushed himself between the egg and Michelangelo, causing him to yelp and the rest to look over at him.

"Dude, are you alright?" Raphael asked, looking him over, "Because unmotivated bursts of anger are kind of my thing."

"It's just that the egg could be fragile," Leonardo reasoned as he picked up the egg, scrambling to not set off any alarms, "Mikey cannot be trusted with it. I'm carrying it myself."

"I'm beginning to think that he likes that egg more than me," Michelangelo whined, looking over at him longingly. As if he didn't spend as much time as he did with the youngest.

"Well, the egg talks less than you, so there's that," Raphael laughed.

Leonardo stared at the egg the whole way to the Shellraiser. What was going on? He didn't yell like that and he certainly didn't want this thing home. Why was he so protective over it?

%%%

Leonardo tapped his knee rapidly, shaking his head like it would fix something. He wanted to go somewhere else, do other things, get rid of this godforsaken egg, but something rooted him to the place. It hurt to move away, hurt to do anything other than watch over it.

It might be worth it, his mind supplied, This might prove fruitful.

His mind was probably right. Trusting his conscience usually worked out for him.

Find other hosts, it immediately tried to order, Others who will protect. Feed. Watch.

His head hurt, and he raised a hand to grab it, trying to alleviate the pain. The voice grew louder.

Attack, fight, protect! Protect spawn, next generation! Gather food, gather hosts!

No! No, he needed to stay right where he was. He wasn't going to fight when it wasn't necessary.

The egg needed protection.

It needed him.

It needed food.

Leonardo shook his head again. Maybe he would just… Sit for a bit. And try to get his thoughts together before he tore himself apart.

%%%

Michelangelo eventually came sauntering over, getting far too close for his liking. It set off multiple mental alarms, and Leonardo whirled to face him.

Get him away! Protect! PROTECT!

"Back away!" He screamed, and Michelangelo scrambled backwards. "Touch it and I'll kill you! Go!"

Leonardo froze. That wasn't him talking. He'd never say that to any of his family. What came over him? Why did he say that? He didn't mean it? Why couldn’t he move away?

Michelangelo ran.

%%%

Donatello came to him next.

"Leo?" He began, tentatively, as if he was afraid that Leonardo might lash out at him as well, "We're, um, we're worried about you-"

"Go. Now," Leonardo hissed at him.

Something was wrong. He needed to go before he hurt somebody or worse, killed them.

ATTACK! MORE HOSTS FOR THE SPAWN!

That dang voice again. It was still getting louder, sharpening the pain from his headache until it was like an ice pick stuck in his skull.

Donatello the hint and turned, speed walking back into his lab where Leonardo assumed they were all hiding out. Because he was scaring them.

The egg would not let him move away from it, however, that didn't mean he couldn't take it with him.

Leonardo wrapped his arms around the egg and stood, still careful with its fragile shell. He took it and ran far, far away.

He didn't really have a plan for where he was going, he was just running. Anywhere would work.

No! Whatever that voice was screamed, Go back! Turn them! Create food sources for the next generation!

Leonardo grit his teeth and stopped running. If he wanted to do anything, he needed to stop hearing that voice. Then, he would stop feeling that resistance on his limbs, and he could move a little more freely.

He slammed his head against the wall and screamed as loud as he could, drowning out the shouts about "hosts" and "spawn" and "food". He slammed his skull against the brick wall until blood trickled down his temple and slicked a part of the wall. At least the voice had quieted to something more manageable, even if his head hurt worse. If he could think for ten seconds, he could plan a way out of this mess he’d gotten himself into. All he needed was some kind of plan on how to get rid of the egg, then he’d be fine, right? The voice should go away, after all, it only started when he had the egg.

“LEO!”

Shoot, they were coming after him. Leonardo crumpled to the floor, curled up around the egg and leaned against the wall. If he left, it was only to protect them. Why would they go after him when he was dangerous?! As he silently cursed their names, he raised a hand to his head. The voice was back, louder than before now that his family was near.

TURN THEM! GATHER GUARDIANS FOR EGG!

Leonardo screamed again, this time out of the splitting agony in his head like it was getting cracked open.

Then, the pain was gone, and his body was moving without his command. Panic shot through him, followed by a surge of adrenaline. He wished it wouldn’t, but his body moved forward anyway, one sword drawn with intent to hurt or, god forbid it, kill.

He was sick to his stomach when the blood sprayed. Clawing at his own mind to try and free himself, Leonardo screamed silently as his body lunged forward and struck out at his brothers. Still, he could do nothing, and it drove him crazy.

Raphael got too close, and whatever was controlling him took a chance. Leonardo lunged forward and trapped the second oldest in combat by locking their weapons, just long enough to sink his teeth into his arm.

Yes! It has spread! More hosts for the next generation!

No! No, he had to- He had to keep trying to fight, or else he would hurt them badly.

Leonardo suddenly regained his control of his own body and scrambled backwards, dropping his katana. He needed to run before they went at him again, before they got hurt again.

So he did. He turned and ran as fast as he could. Only after he had achieved a distance that he thought was safe did he sit back down to try and gather his scrambled thoughts.

He bit Raphael.

He had spread that stupid voice to him as well.

Leonardo looked at the egg and set it down, then twisted to look at his remaining katana. Slowly, he drew the blade and shifted to sit on his knees.

He raised the sword high above his head, ready to bring it down upon that cursed egg. Just one strike, the membrane would split open, and the larva inside would die. Then he’d be free, and his family would be safe. It would only take one hit if he did it right.

No! Do not attack the spawn! It is almost time!

The katana fell to the floor with a loud clatter, and he went reeling backwards before curling up and whining. It hurt. It hurt to disobey. It hurt. Ithurtithurtithurtithurt-

The silence was shattered. The sound was quiet, near impossible to hear, but if he strained...

Click click click~

Leonardo glanced down at the sound, freezing when he saw an antenna dangerously close to the surface. They were already hatching? He thought he would have more time! It needed to die as soon as possible, but how?

An idea sparked in his mind. He knew what he had to do.

Grabbing the egg, he scrambled to his feet in search of a body of water deep enough to do what he needed to do.

A pool. He needed a pool. That would work perfectly for this. Against his plastron, the egg twitched and the larva inside pushed against the wall of the egg, yearning for freedom. He had to do it fast, because the offspring of the wasp would wait no longer.

He dropped to his knees and forced the egg under.

NO! THE OFFSPRING! PROTECT! PROTECT!!!

Leonardo screamed in agony, dropping far enough that his forehead almost touched the ground, his grip on the egg loosening just a bit.

A crack formed under his fingers, though, and he reset his hold on it as the offspring broke through. No, not one. There were two more behind it. It was only the first of three.

They, however, were not made for swimming, especially fresh out of their egg. Shortly after leaving their cocoon, the hatchlings drowned, sinking slowly in the water.

The screams in his head reached their peak before slowly fading after the wasp's children drowned. He scrambled backwards, reveling in the silence.

It was finally quiet. He was safe. His family was safe. The wasps were gone, (hopefully) to never be seen again.

Leonardo rested his face on his knees and let out a long breath.

He wanted a nap.

Yet another CS Whumptober Fic about Player

Summary:

In the short time Player's been imprisoned, he's already learned not to give his captors a reaction to his suffering. Unfortunately, that's not exactly possible when one of them is intent on playing a special kind of game with him, one with consequences that could kill Player.

(Made for Whumptober Day 22, Pick Your Poison, and the prompt "Toxic")

glass shard / vehicular accident / watch out! (they never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor)

"WATCH OUT!" Faye's exclamation came at the precise moment that Spike himself noticed the dangerous way the vehicle they were tailing began to swerve on the pavement. Cursing the inability of the other driver to maintain control, though even Spike had found it a challenge that actually required both hands on the wheel, he tried to avoid the brick wall of the buildings and shoot past the van with the blacked out windows before it could crash as it was clearly about to.

Unfortunately, he was only able to achieve half of that goal. They'd narrowly streaked past the two-story structure but the van careened madly over into their space to knock against the rear passenger tire just as Faye was able to wrangle Spike's seatbelt into position across his chest and lap. He heard the snap of her own seatbelt locking into place as the angle of the impact threw the vehicle they were driving into a roll.

Glass shattered as every window conceded defeat to the ground whenever it was their turn to meet. Over and over again they rolled as the momentum of their speeding vehicle slowed with each smash and flip. The noise was thunderous. There was nothing to do except wait for the world to stop violently spinning. Side airbags deployed almost as an afterthought as their jeep finally heaved itself to a stop. It took several moments for Spike to realize that they weren't upside down.

His seatbelt was cutting into his shoulder as he tried to turn to take stock of the situation and his passenger. Irritably, he managed to scrabble at the button until it released him from the prison it had become after likely saving his life. There was no telling what would have happened if Faye hadn't thought to strap him in, but it seemed likely that he would have been forcibly ejected from the vehicle at some point during its prolonged tumble.

Faye's hair was in disarray and glittered with glass shards. She had shards all over her face like crystalline freckles and some drops of blood were seeping out of a few spots where larger pieces must have scraped past in the tumult. Her eyes with narrowed in fury as she yanked ruthlessly on her own seatbelt until Spike reached over to cover her hands with his own.

"Hey, hey, hold on! I'll get you out," he assured her.

"I'm gonna fucking kill them," she snarled. "I don't even care about collecting their bounty anymore! OUCH!"

"Stop thrashing around!" He ordered. "If you broke anything, you'll just make it worse doing that!"

Her hands fell away from the seatbelt, relinquishing control of the situation to him, and skimmed across her still-flat stomach uneasily. Spike gritted his teeth to keep from gulping and making her nervous. Abruptly he remembered there was a knife stashed in one of her boots and he strained to rummage around by her legs until he recovered it and brought it back up to hack away at the material of the elastic restraint. It didn't give up easily, which was probably a sign of a quality product but also could have been lethal if they'd been trapped in a submerged vehicle.

Free at last, Faye twisted to scramble out of the vehicle only to discover her door was jammed shut. Spike hastily attempted his own, failed to open it, and vaulted through the broken-out window to hurry over to her side and lay down his jacket on the gaping space of her own shattered out window. Carefully, he helped haul her up and out of the wreckage. Faye was trembling by the time he got her to her feet outside, though whether it was from the adrenaline still coursing through her body or the rage that she very obviously felt, Spike couldn't tell. He looked around at the trail of debris from where their vehicle had traveled from the crash to here, and then spotted the van on its side a few yards further back. The front end was crumpled and smoke was pouring out from under the hood. One person had been launched out of the windshield and was lying very still, but the other bank robber was hanging half out the driver's side door which was ajar.

Turning back to Faye when he heard her retching, he moved to her side in concern but she waved him off weakly.

"M'fine, go cuff that asshole. Maybe grab one of those money bags too, hey? There's enough loose in the wind that a little extra missing won't draw any questions." She remarked, wiping her mouth with a shaky hand.

There was indeed quite a lot of the money the robbers had stolen billowing out of the back doors of the van. Faye's idea seemed like a good one to Spike, provided he could manage to be quick about it. He didn't know enough about cars to be sure this one wouldn't blow up with the way parts seemed to be on fire. Still, he opted to handle the bounty first.

The woman blinked in confusion as Spike yanked her roughly out of the van. "They never saw us coming," she mumbled, "until they hit the floor. We made it painless as possible, you see? The banks are the cruel ones... bleeding us to death with overdraft fees and late fees and so many bullshit charges... we just... wanted to get back what's ours."

Spike snorted. "That's the fourth bank you hit up this week. Somehow I don't think the judge is gonna be convinced you're the victim here, especially since you've been racking up murder charges left and right. You're just lucky I don't let my partner handle your fate."

"Buncha bootlickers... the system is designed to keep us all down, you fool! And here you are, doing the dirty work for the cops..."

Hauling her over to the side of the street, Spike looked down at her with disdain. "Lady, we ain't doing shit for the cops. We're doing what needs doing to get ourselves paid so we can eat. Fuck the police, and fuck you for nearly getting us killed."