#post-whump

Destroying His Honor Pt 3

Content: comfort, whipping wound care, rude caretaker

Warren

Warren woke, still on the ground, probably only a few seconds later. There was a horrible tearing sensation down his back and he cursed, struggling to walk instead of being dragged.

“Whoah whoah rich prick, hold your–hang onto me, dumbass.” Coal had him in one hand by most of the shirt, which was riding up under Warren’s armpits. The other arm crossed Warren’s welted back, and Coal’s hand locked around Warren’s waist. It hurt.

Warren gripped Coal by the side of his shirt, weakly trying to hang on as he was dragged back into the sleeping quarters. 

“Get all your screams out now," Coal said. “If yer gonna do it later, trust me, these guys pack a punch, and they can make it worse.”

“Kill me," Warren groaned softly.

“You get over it," Coal grunted, kicking a couple pillows onto a bed and then, with surprising grace and ease, leveraging Warren onto the setup, so that when his legs gave out, he fell softly under Coal’s guiding hand, almost painlessly.

"Aren't you cold?"

Of course he was, hell Aziphem got chilled when the temperatures dropped below 65. One of the many joys of being a demon.

"I'm fine." It had been his constant answer whenever Warren pressed on how he was doing. What was he supposed to say? Yes, he was cold out here. There was a threat of snow that night, only a dusting but still dipping below freezing. But if he told the human he would, of course, get the offer to come inside with mentions of hot food and warm blankets.

Writing something post-whump and uh... let's just say things are gonna get intresting...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And the award for No. 1 Hero is, as it has been for the last 11 years, NM!" the speaker announced.

I forced myself to keep my nerves under control. In just a few moments, they would ask if anyone had any objections, and I would raise my hand. I subconsciously searched for the hand of one of my teammates standing next to me and grabbed on to it. S ended up being said teammate and gave me a comforting squeeze.

The speaker finished up their speech which mostly boiled down to 'obviously he deserves this because it's him'. "Now, for something that I'm almost certain is useless, does anyone in the crowd object to this?" they asked.

CW: Referenced past pet whump and noncon, referenced alcohol use/hangover

TIMELINE: Post-No Matter What, one year after Oliver Branch’s death

When he comes back into his room, two plates layered with Jake’s hash browns and fried eggs balanced in his hands, Laken is up and pulling their binder on over their head, carefully working the tight black fabric down to where the hem sits just at their ribcage. Their back is to him, and like always Chris is struck at the way they’re so utterly, amazingly perfect.

“Oooh, is that breakfast?” They glance over their shoulder at him, eyeliner smudged at the corners of their eyes, nose ring catching the sunlight coming through the blinds. “I’m starving. What’d Jake make us?”

“Um... hash-... hashbrowns and, and, and eggs. Over-easy, like, like you-you-you like.” Chris sets their plate down. “Over hard for, for me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a wimp,” Laken teases, and if it weren’t for his pounding headache and how even after three glasses of water his tongue still feels like dry dead weight in his mouth, it would be like last night never even happened.

But-... it did.

“Please, please tell me he at least gave you-”

“Hot sauce? Here, here, here you go.” He digs the little bottle full of fiery red from a pocket and tosses it to them. They sigh in gratitude and relief.

“Excellent. Thanks. Oooh, coffee.” Laken takes a drink, makes a face. “Lukewarm.”

“Well, it’s, it’s, it’s been here awhile, I can get-... I can get fresh-”

“No, that’s cool. Thanks for it. I’m just gonna drink it really fast. You’re probably on cup, what, four? Can you feel the movement of the earth yet?”

“No, but, but, I could-... last night.” Chris presses his lips together. Things are too much a blur - he knows he drank too much, he knows what he tried to get Laken to do. He knows that-

That he misses his Sir, is sad that he’s gone so far that Chris could never go back to him, slide back into Baldur, give up and forget himself completely if he wanted to. Not that he does. But-...

He knows that Oliver is still dead, and that he drank himself sick trying to forget and remember him, and he tried to be good for Laken, and...

“I’m, um, sor-... sorry about, about last night,” He says as they sit cross-legged on his bed, wearing the binder and a pair of boxer short underwear. They look up at him, a bit of heavy black hair falling over their forehead, the shaved sides short enough to see hints of scalp through. 

They’re handsome, and beautiful.

And he’s a broken toy.

We love you, Chris, whether you like it or not. You’re stuck with a couple of fucked-up brothers and Laken, too. We’re all choosing you.

Jake’s words downstairs echo in his mind and he tries to stand himself up taller, to look stronger. Like someone who doubts himself less than he really does.

“It’s okay,” Laken says, softly.

“No, it’s, it’s it’s not. You’re not... you weren’t supposed to, to, to see me like... that.” Chris sits down next to them and slumps a little, hands between his knees. “I’m supposed to, to to not-... to not do that any, um, anymore.”

“Yeah, well. You did. Shit pops back up even if you want it gone. I’m still here.” Laken reaches over and takes one of his hands in theirs, pulls it up to their lips, presses a kiss to the back of it. Their hand and lips are warm. Warmer than Chris ever is.

“I just-... don’t, um, do that. Normally. And I haven’t, haven’t tried to to to-”

You can choose to be good or choose to be hurt, trainee

“-come on to someone in... in, in, in a long time.”

“I know. I know you, Chris. Not-... everything, and I’ll never ask to know what you don’t want to tell me, but... I know you.” Laken kisses his hand again. “I know that you’re kind, and gentle, and climb trees and do backflips and love that stupid show about the fucking French Revolution even though, objectively speaking, what is the fucking appeal, they don’t even win-... Chris, that question does not require an answer... but I know you. And it’s-all-gone-to-shit-you is still you you. And that’s who I love.”

Chris smiles, a little, down at his feet. “I, I, I love you, too.”

“Good. Now let’s eat these hashbrowns before they’re colder than my coffee.”

“It’s not, not, not my fault you slept so late.”

“Chris, I was up taking care of you, it is literally your fault-”

based off @whumpster-dumpster‘s prompt 

Character A tilting character B’s chin up to get a better look at their face and the evidence of the fight. A delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by B’s mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, B’s heart skips a nervous beat as A looks them dead in the eyes. Their voice quiet and tense, anger barely restrained, “Who did this to you?”

Buck and Eddie mirror each other in ways people don’t often see. Eddie burns with white-hot rage. And when Buck gets angry, well, it’s an ice-cold fury.

Also on Ao3

Eddie leans heavily on the door as he fumbles with his keys, trying to get hold of the right one. Eventually, after finding the right key he stumbles inside, toes off his shoes and drops his gym bag by the door calling to Carla that he’s home and apologising that he’s late. The voice that answers, however, was decidedly not Carla and he’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

“Eddie? Man, where have you been? It’s been hours since your shifted fin—Jesus Christ are you okay!?” Buck’s voice was loud and quiet all at the same time.

Eddie winces at the words, from the sounds of it he probably looked as bad as he felt, and he felt like absolute shit. Buck appears in front of him, hands feathering over his face briefly before moving to his side, bringing a supportive arm behind his back as he guides him to sit at the dining room table.

He frowns, wondering why Buck was even here in the first place. It didn’t make any sense. The last they spoke was when they were arguing in the grocery store only a couple of days ago. Buck had made it crystal clear that he didn’t care about them. Obviously he didn’t care that in filing his lawsuit he had left Eddie unbalanced, teetering over the edge. Buck didn’t get just how much Eddie had begun to depend on him. So why, after everything, was he here now?

Eddie slumps against the back of the chair at a loss of what to think while Buck disappears into the bathroom to get the first aid kit, moving quietly as he does so to avoid waking Chris up. He sets the kit down gently next to Eddie and then moves to the kitchen to fill a bowl with warm water.

Buck sets the bowl down on the table next to the kit and moves to stand between Eddie’s legs as he moistens a towel before beginning to lightly dab at the crusted blood next to Eddie’s eye. Buck hasn’t said a word and it’s kind of scaring Eddie a little, He can be quiet but he’s never silent.  

He won’t meet his eyes either, keeping his focus solely on what he’s doing. Eddie has always prided himself on his ability to read Buck's face, but right now, now he has no idea what Buck is thinking. The only indication he can see is a muscle tick as he clenches and unclenches his jaw.

Buck tilts Eddie’s chin up into the light to get a better look at his face and the evidence of the fight. Delicately, he wipes his thumb over a streak of blood by Eddie’s mouth but continues to say nothing as he examines it.

After a brief pause, Eddie’s heart skips a nervous beat as Buck finally looks him dead in the eye as he holds Eddie’s jaw steady. His voice is quiet and tense, anger barely restrained as he speaks, “Who did this to you?”

Eddie widens his eyes at the deathly cold expression on Buck’s face and shies away from his touch in shame and guilt, avoiding his intense gaze by staring down at the bowl of now pink water.

Unwillingly the answer comes unbidden to his lips and escapes out in a whisper, “I did.”

The anger is quickly replaced by concern as Buck crouches down while cupping Eddie’s face gently guiding him to look him in the eyes, “What?” Buck searches Eddie’s eyes for an answer, “What do you mean?”

Tears pool in his eyes as Eddie looks down at Buck, confused why all of a sudden Buck cared enough to look after him. And seeing Buck’s troubled expression, he can’t bring himself to lie.

“I did this to myself.”

“Eddie, I don’t understand. What does that even mean?”

“It means that I’ve been street fighting. And tonight,” Eddie gestures to his face and body, “tonight I lost. Badly.”

Buck releases his chin in surprise at Eddie’s answer, before standing up quickly and moving away from Eddie in one swift motion. Eddie flinches at the movement, taken aback at how quickly Buck goes from being concerned to furious.

“You, WHAT!?” It's spoken in a harsh whisper, but Eddie could still hear the fury. “Eddie, how could you be so stupid?”

The rage that always now seems to be simmering in the back of his mind rears its ugly head. He stands up quickly, his pain temporarily forgotten as he keeps his voice low and venomous, “How could I be so stupid? What gives you the right to judge me? You gave that up when you filed the lawsuit.”

Buck stares him down with a glare, “Seriously? The lawsuit. Come on, it’s clearly not just about that. You’re never this reckless.”

He runs an aggressive hand through his hair and takes a step closer to Eddie, “Jesus man, you have a son. What happens to Christopher if you get arrested again? Or if you end up in the hospital from a bad fight? At any time did you stop to think about what could happen?”

Eddie doesn’t have an answer. He watches as Buck starts pacing, clearly fuming before he stops and moves towards the door, lifting his jacket from the hook with his back still to Eddie.

“Where are you going?”

Buck pauses but doesn’t turn around, “Home. Clearly you don’t need me here.”

“Buck wait.” Eddie moves quickly and catches Buck’s arm, stalling from going any further.

Buck whips around, snatching his arm out of Eddie’s grasp. “What Eddie? What could you possibly say that makes all of this okay?”

“I just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

Buck drops his shoulders and looks at him imploringly, “Just talk to me, Eddie. Even if it is to say that you’re still mad at me.”

Eddie, once again feeling the pain in his ribs that he’d been ignoring until now, holds them gingerly as he moves to sit back down in the chair. Buck follows him and turns the chair next to him, so they could sit face to face.

Not sure where else to look, Eddie lets his gaze drift to his hands, inspecting the crusted broken skin of his knuckles as he speaks. “I’m not- I’m not mad at you. I was never actually mad at you.”

Buck scoffs, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I was just so angry about the situation. You used to be there all the time and then out of nowhere I wasn’t allowed to talk to you? It felt like Shannon all over again, she became part of my life and then she was gone.”

Buck hums and picks up the discarded towel before gently taking Eddie’s hand in his and starts wiping away at the blood on his knuckles.

“There’s just this rage that’s been building inside me…Bosko was the one to introduce me to street fighting, to give me an outlet for all this anger.  And well, now I can’t seem to stop. The anger just never seems to go away.” He peers up at Buck, afraid of what he might think.

Buck pauses in his ministrations and puts the towel back on the table before sighing and taking both of Eddie’s hands in his. He looks into Eddie’s eyes without any of the anger or disappointment that Eddie was expecting.

“Eddie, no more street fighting, I’ll be your outlet. From now on, we are going to the gym and you can fight to your heart’s content against me in the ring. Anytime that you feel the need to let it all out, I’ll be there.”

Eddie pulls his hands from Bucks grasp. “What? No Buck. I’m not going to fight you. You’re on blood thinners.”

Buck shakes his head and shrugs, “Doesn’t matter. If you hurt me badly, then you can take me to the hospital yourself. Eds, as long as it stops you from fighting out on the street, I’ll do it.”

Eddie furrows his brow in confusion. “How’s that going to work? I’m not even supposed to be talking to you right now let alone us going to the gym together. You shouldn’t even be here.”

“Eddie, I dropped the lawsuit,” Buck says lowly, breaking eye contact.

“What?!”

He rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah, after our fight in the supermarket I went to the lawyer and told him to drop it. You were right, I- I didn’t think and I didn’t know how much it was affecting you and- and Christopher.”

“You did that for us?”

“Of course I did. I mean sure, I was mad a Bobby for not letting me back. The whole purpose of it was to get back to the team, to my family, but not at the expense of hurting you guys. What would be the point if I lost you all in the process.”

Eddie sits there for a moment, processing this new information before grabbing hold of Buck’s hands and pulling him into a hug. It’s awkward from the way they were sitting but he didn’t care at this moment, he was just glad to have Buck back here with him.

Buck tenses for a moment before melting into Eddie and wrapping his own arms around him. He’s missed this, god he’s missed this so much.

They stay like that for longer than it's considered normal for most people, but between them it is normal and they were going to savour it.

Eventually, Buck leans back breaking the hug and Eddie is surprised to mourn the loss of his embrace, not yet understanding what his body is telling him.

Buck clears his throat, “Uh, so…we have a lot to catch up on and you still need to be properly cleaned up,” he chuckles, “dude, I know you said you lost badly, but have you seen your face? People are definitely going to notice.”

“Well then, you better get to work fixing me up.” Replies Eddie teasingly.

Buck gives him a look with mirth in his eyes but doesn’t complain as he pulls out the betadine. And while he continues to tend to Eddie’s injures, Eddie updates him on everything that he’s missed. They end up staying at that table until the early hours of the morning, just enjoying being back in each other’s company.

Some early post-rescue stuff with Ilai and Cody.

No heavy tws, only medical and bit of self deprecation.

Enjoy, and now i will disappear for three months again

I also have once again forgot how to do read more on mobile so excuse me TwT

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Waking up in an unfamiliar place was a bit shocking for Cody. It seems he fainted, while on Ilai's knees. Opening his eyes, he saw a white ceiling, with equally bright also white lamps. Lowering his sight, he looked around himself. A lone blue curtain on the right, and a wall on the left. Cody was laying in a hospital bed, with tubes around him. Slightly panicked he jumped in the bed. His jaw was wired shut, immobilized completely. With pale fingers, he grabbed the curtain and pulled it back. Seeing other patients, his fear was at least a bit lowered. But that didn't mean he liked any of this.

- Ah! You woke up... That's good. - Ilai walked into the room with Max again. - The doc wouldn't tell us much, because we're not family. But since you woke up that must be a good sign.

- I mean your not dead, that's enough to be a good sign. No one knows your name though... And now you can't really tell us... - Max sighed, crossing her arms.

Cody looked around again. He only could let out a quiet 'mhm'. Eyes upon the pair, still full of fear.

- It will be okay, man. I promise. Um... Maybe u could write your name down? So at least we know how to call you. - Ilai started rummaging through his pockets looking for any pen and paper. He only found a pen though. - Okay so maybe just write it on my arm. - he held out the pen to Cody.

The boy slowly wrote his name on the punk's skin and looked up at him.

- So... Cody! - he smiled gently.

- Cody. We will remember you for sure. - Max laughed along. - You gave us quite the fright. Doc said you will probably be released soon, if you need a place to stay then just say so. Or rather just nod. - She shrugged with a smile, Cody nodding as she asked.

-Wait, Max, did you eavesdrop on the doctors? They wouldn't let Me know anything. God, you're such an ass. - Ilai couldn't help but laugh at the woman. Cody smiled lightly.

---------

Their flat wasn't very big, but it was enough for Cody. He barely knew them but he felt the best he ever did with anyone. His jaw was still wired shut to heal, but at least Cody could smile a bit.

- So, tell me, buddy, you either caaan sleep together with me in one bed~ as two bros do. Or just on my bed... Alone. I will be on the couch then. - Ilai hugged him from behind, he was much taller than him

- Don't listen to him, he will just sleep on the couch. You're the sick one here, you need rest.

- But Maaaaxiieeeee

- Worst case scenario I will sleep with him, he is my brother after all. - She sighed, with a hand on her forehead in embarrassment.

Oh. They are siblings. Cody thought they were a couple this whole time. No matter though, he didn't want Ilai to be uncomfortable. Since they got him a notepad, he wrote "We can sleep together in one bed. I don't mind", to the surprise of the siblings.

- W-well I was half-joking. But if you don't mind then it will be the most comfortable, since I have a big bed. - Ilai laughed, while his cheeks were bright pink.

Cody didn't have any clothes of his own, so right now he was wearing too-big clothes from Ilai. He sat him down on the big bed in his room. It wasn't... Big per se. But spacious. Light blue walls, a closet hidden in a wall, a big window with half-dead plants on the windowsill, a fluffy gray carpet, right next to the bed a modern-looking desk with a computer on it. Cody rarely had a chance to look at technology like that, not to mention even touching it. Seeing his interest Ilai's eyes lit up.

- Do you like it? Maybe we can play games together while you recover! I will beat you for sure though - His laugh filled the room - okay okay maaaybe I will go easy on you for a few first times.

Cody wrote on his notepad - "I never played any video games before. "

- Wait you're kidding right? No? Jesus. What were you doing in your childhood? Well, no matter, I will teach you and show you a bunch of games. We have a console in the living room too. - Ilai ruffled the boy's hair, which prompted him to squint and tense - Hey you good?

- mmhm... - Cody let his muscles relax finally. He looked up at Ilai. He wasn't going to hurt him, wasn't he?

He already entrusted his health to him and now he's living with him. He could do whatever he wanted to Cody. IF he wanted.

But he showed nothing but kindness to his worthless self. He kneeled on the floor and hugged the punk's legs. Squeezing himself tightly to them, while a confused expression painted his face.

- Cody...? - The brunette blushed lightly, slowly lowering his hand onto his head, again, the boy's eyes squeezed shut, but when the gentle touch went down to his cheeks, and brushed against his pale skin, with such tenderness...

Cody opened his eyes, finally letting himself cry. Ilai didn't know how to react, unsure how to console the boy, he sat down on the floor and put his arms around him.