Dark_Misfit Art

(Closet cosplay so its not accurate)

The maze of alleyways was dark and cold. The perfect place for a Kreilan to hide. But a Kreilan wasn’t what Jacob and Adalaine were looking for.

“He’s gotta be around here somewhere. The idiot probably just got lost chasing that asshole who stole his sandwich..” Adalaine rolled her eyes, waving Jacob down another alleyway to look.

Jacob sighed and shook his head. “This feels wrong, Ada. Like we’re walking into something we’re not prepared for. I- I could’ve sworn I heard Danny shouting about something.” Jacob retorts, his brow furrowed in concentration. He peeks down another dark alley.

It was like this place was made to be confusing and to make people get lost. Jacob couldn’t even remember which way they came in from at this point. 

“You’re being paranoid, Jacob. He’s fine; probably beating the sandwich stealer with a metal bat at this point.” Adalaine sighs and claps to get Jacob’s attention. “I see some light down this way! Maybe he’d have followed it?” Adalaine points down another alley, where there was a sliver of light reflecting off of a wall behind a corner. 

Jacob looks up from the dark puddle on the ground he’d been staring at. “Maybe.” He says simply, turning his head towards the light. His hearing was better than Adelaine's- mechanical enhancements and all- and he could clearly hear quiet, wet coughing and heavy breathing from exactly where that light was. Jacob's eyes widened as he realized exactly who those sounds were coming from.

Adalaine didn’t have time to react before Jacob pushed past her and ran towards the corner where the light was peeking out. And there he was.

Danny. Bloody, slumped against the alley wall, with a spotlight pointed right at him. Mechanical Kreilan bodies lay around him. Danny had obviously killed them; he had their blue blood all over his hands. But it was mixing with his own, and someone had put that spotlight there. There was a massive gash across his stomach, deep and ugly. His red hoodie was torn in several places, and the bandages around his scarred hands were falling off. 

Danny looked up slowly as Jacob skidded to a stop next to him. “H-hey. Look… look how many I got today. I think thats… beatin’ your count, yeah?” He let out a weak chuckle, which immediately devolved into a hacking cough. Jacob grabs his shoulders gently. “Yeah. Yeah. I- I think you’re beating me… yeah.” He said, trying to sound calm. His voice shook regardless, and his eyes shone with tears. “I… I think I’m pretty tired now. But… I don’t- I don’t think I can… sleep here. Concrete is kinda cold.” Danny groaned as Jacob pulled his head into his lap, blue blood covered hand pressing against the wound on his stomach; which did basically nothing due to how big the gash was. “Y-yeah. Yeah.” Jacob smiled just slightly. It was a sad smile; a knowing smile. He knew they couldn’t get Danny out of this place in time. He knew no team medic would find them in time. He knew.

“Just… close your eyes, Dan. I’ll.. I’ll-” Jacob grits his teeth to bite back a sob. “I’ll carry you. It’ll be more comfortable in the van. Okay?” He says, voice shaking, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to push back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“..o-okay. Jus’ wake me up… when we… get back to… base…” Danny nods weakly. His skin was pale. He’d been here longer than Jacob and Adalaine had been looking. He smiles up at Jacob. “..y-y’know, your… eyes were… always pretty to me.” He mumbles, before his eyes shut slowly and his head rests more heavily against Jacobs lap. 

Adalaine steps forward from where she’d been watching at the corner. Her eyes were wide; she was crying, not even trying to hold her tears back. Jacob doesn’t look up at her. He just moves and holds the limp Danny against his chest tightly, burying his face in the torn red hoodie on his shoulder. His shoulders shake with silent tears.

Adalaine and Jacob walk back to the van silently. They find their way eventually. Danny is limp in Jacob's arms as they approach. The rest of the team watches as Jacob pushes past the medic Gregor, who tries to take Danny’s body from him, and they watch as he climbs into the back of the van, sitting on the floor with Danny held close. His face was expressionless.

Adalaine follows him into the van, and the rest of the team does so as well. They are all silent. The driver drives off towards base once the back doors shut.

—

Jacob hasn’t gone on a single mission since Danny passed. He just sits in the pod bay, next to the body's restoration pod. The wound on his stomach had been healed by the orange liquid inside; but it was one thing for him to be healed, and another for him to be brought back from the dead.

Adalaine visits sometimes to bring Jacob food and water, and blankets for when the bay is colder than usual. Johnny brought him a reclining chair from one of the break rooms. Imra passes by sometimes, his sharp eyes watching Gregor refill the pod and check up on Jacob's health. Jacob only ever left the pod bay to use the bathroom; and there was one right across the hall, so he basically never leaves.

None of them will ever be the same again. Danny’s presence was always bright, cheerful. Perhaps a bit idiotic, a bit egotistical. But his smile would always lift the room. And now it is gone.

Forever.

SOME NOTES:

This is part of a larger oc universe I am working on

I may be posting more little stories of scenes and stuff in the world, depends on if i write more

Hi guys

female cal kestis closet cosplay ok?

ok

BIG ANGSTY

MENTIONS OF PSYCH WARDS

DEATH

https://archiveofourown.org/works/82138861

“It’s just growing pains,” The doctors used to say about the pain. “It’ll go away on its own.”

“Its just being a teen,” They said about the dizziness. “You’ll get used to it.”

Ollie didn’t know they were wrong- not until he was about fifteen. His mother didn’t believe him so he never brought it up at the doctors. Not until he went to the ER one day, and the doctor there said the dizziness and symptoms that correlated with it could be POTs.

His mother took him to get tested, and he was diagnosed with it. The first step in a several-year journey.

Next was the pain. He was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia at first, but he knew that was wrong. Ollie fought for at least two years to get diagnosed with Hybermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. In those years, he started using mobility aids.

At first it was just a cane, to help with stability. Kids started to call him ‘Grandpa’ at school. Then the cane wasn’t enough. He got a pair of forearm crutches, and those helped more. Kids stopped calling him Grandpa, but they started telling him they were going to kick his crutches while he was walking to see if he’d fall. He would, if they’d done it.

Ollie’s mother bought him a walker after that, but he was barely allowed to use it. He only used it at big events, or places he’d walk for a long time. He used the crutches daily. Kids thought he was faking needing them. The nurse at school knew him by name alone.

He got diagnosed with Functional Neurological Disorder a bit after the hEDS diagnosis, due to random leg paralysis and seizures with no explanation. The doctors had ruled out everything else.

Ollie knew the crutches, or even the walker, weren’t enough. He was getting worse. His legs always hurt, even just walking down the hallways at school. Around his house. Sitting down. Sometimes they’d stop working at night and the paralysis would last all day. Sometimes he’d have so many seizures in one day that he could barely think straight.

His mother didn’t like him calling them seizures, but that's what they were. Non-Epileptic Seizures. She got mad at him when he told people that's what they were.

Ollie told his doctors he wanted a wheelchair prescription, for a custom one. They said no. They said “It’d enable the problem” and “It would make it worse” and anything like that, just to make sure he knew they were against it.

He knew it’d help him. He barely left the house. When he did, he came home with extreme pain and fatigue, and that would be from an outing of less than two hours. He knew the wheelchair could give him more freedom to go places. But the doctors didn’t understand that. He’d keep fighting, though.