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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Overpowered Part 4 (Branjie) athena2

A/N:Thank you all so much for your feedback and support of this fic, it truly does mean a lot to me. I want to apologize in advance for the angst in this one, but fluff is coming soon, I promise! *This chapter has mention of alcohol, violence, and mild injury* I would really appreciate any feedback or comments you have!

“You can seriously reach that?” Vanessa screeches as Brooke puts the star on top of the tree.

“Yeah, why?” She steps back and takes in Vanessa’s tiny frame. “Oh.”

“Yeah, Mary,” Vanessa laughs. “I almost broke my neck standing on a chair last year.”

It’s the first day of December and Christmas music is blasting, curtains closed as they pointedly avoid the inch of snow on the ground.

(Yvie said there’d be more snow. It’s fine. She’s fine.)

“You took your meds today, right?” She asks Brooke.

“Yes.”

Brooke takes her medication every morning and Vanessa’s heart fills with pride each time. Brooke works so hard with Nina and communicates her feelings a little better, and she doesn’t apologize for her nightmares anymore. Vanessa’s been watching her closely to see if anything’s changed with the meds, even though Nina said it could take a while for them to work, and not all medications work for everybody.

Vanessa plugs in the tree, reds and blues and yellows and whites twinkling brightly, reflecting off the shiny bulbs.

“One more thing,” Brooke says, pulling fake mistletoe from behind her back and holding it above them.

“You cheesy little ice princess.” Vanessa stretches up to kiss her. —

Two days later the clock by the cemetery stops working.

Exactly one minute after 11.

“What the hell does this mean?” Vanessa demands, barging into Silk’s office for the emergency debriefing she’d ordered. She turns to Yvie. “You said it stopped at 11:03, not 11:01.”

“I-I don’t know,” Yvie admits. “The clock isn’t cracked either, like it was in the vision. My visions have never been wrong like this.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Wait for the fucking clock to crack and move 2 minutes?” Her hands are itching to let flames dance across them, but she forces it down. She moves closer to Brooke so her icy skin will prevent an eruption.

“I don’t know. But for now, I think you need to be extra careful,” Silk says soberly.

Be careful? Vanessa wants to scream. There has to be more she can do.

She just doesn’t know what. —

She tries to distract herself. She bakes cookies with Brooke. They curl up under blankets and watch movies with the pets at their feet. She even gets hooked on the Great British Bake-Off, Brooke’s favorite when she’s anxious or needs to calm down after a really bad nightmare or panic attack. But even listening to the contestants talk charmingly about cakes is starting to fail. All the distractions are failing. No amount of cookies or make-out sessions on the couch behind closed curtains can hide the fact that it’s getting colder, that the snow hasn’t cleared.

She’s in her apartment, walls starting to buckle from the heat. Smoke clouds her eyes, hysterical screaming assaults her ears. She has to follow it, she has to help them, but she can’t see–

Her eyes open into darkness and she is relieved, the dark safer than the bright glow of the flames. The room is silent except for her violent heartbeat. Brooke is still sleeping soundly. Vanessa carefully eases her arms around Brooke, trying not to think that each time could be the last. —

She’s starting to feel that she’s not good anymore. Before, it was about saving people. Now, it’s like if she puts one more criminal behind bars, there’s one less person that could potentially kill her. Saving people is secondary. Why even bother when she’s just going to die anyway? She feels awful about it, that she cares more about herself than the people she’s supposed to protect, but she can’t deny it.

She’s sure Nina would tell her it’s reasonable to feel that way. She almost caves and makes an appointment but slams the phone down.

In some twisted way, she wishes it would just happen already. That the vision would pass, leaving her either dead or alive, and the whole thing can just be over, because the waiting is the worst thing.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion that makes her pick a fight with Brooke. Or maybe it’s the anger poisoning her. It’s probably not the whiskey, because that was hours ago. She doesn’t even know who said what first, only that she’s ready to answer Silk’s call and Brooke is worried, and it’s like Vanessa suddenly drops into her body and becomes aware that she’s yelling at Brooke, which she’s never done.

“You can’t tell me what to do, Brooke!”

“Vanessa, please, I-I just think you should be more careful.” She picks at her cuticles.

“Careful went out the window when Yvie put a fucking expiration date over my head!”

“You-you drank today.”

“It was just a glass of whiskey.” That’s a lie. It was four.

“I know you’re scared-”

“You think because you go to Nina you’re a therapist now? Is that it?” She tugs on her boots so hard they almost rip.

“No, I just-”

“So what about those people in trouble? You want me to let them die?” She leaves out the fact that yesterday she would have let them die, but now that her suit is on, she wants to save them. It’s just what she has to do.

“I don’t care about them!” Brooke’s hands are shaking.

It’s quiet.

“I-I didn’t mean that,” Brooke says softly, hand raking through her hair. “I’m sorry. I do care, I do, I just…look, it’s Silver Steel, he’s hard to fight, I’ll come with you.” She quickly attaches her mask and grabs her suit.

“No. You were holding me in the vision, remember? I’m probably safer without you.”

Even with Brooke’s mask on she can see the absolutely gutted look in her eyes, and Vanessa regrets the words the second they’re out, shame burning inside her and making her tear up. She regrets every damn word she screamed at Brooke tonight. Everything she’s felt in the past few months–confusion, sadness, misery, exhaustion–is all boiling down to one thing: anger. Pure, red-hot anger, the type that led to crimes of passion, that led people to scream words they didn’t mean and hurt the ones they loved. The kind of anger that burns from the inside out, leaving nothing but ash.

She jumps in Bertha and races off with no seatbelt, like if she gets away fast enough, she can pretend tonight never happened. —

She heads downtown, where Silver Steel has crumbled an office building. She pulls people up out of the rubble and herds them all away, and thankfully there’s no deaths that she can see. She leads him into the empty park and lets Vanjie take over. Vanjie didn’t feel dazed and exhausted. Vanjie hadn’t been an absolute asshole to the person she loves more than anyone. Vanjie didn’t need to worry if she had just ruined the greatest thing she’s ever had.

“Could you be a little more obvious with your name, buddy? I mean, Silver Steel, for someone with steel fists? Really?” She aims a punch at his chest.

“Shut up.”

“That’s origi–fuck!” His steel fist slams into her ribcage, and she hopes Silk’s bulletproof suit covers that, because her chest feels like it’s in pieces.

She forces herself to straighten up, only to have his fist get her again, sending her crashing into frozen earth.

Silver Steel hovers over her, his fist blocking out the sky. She closes her eyes, and she doesn’t fight. She just accepts it, like she used to accept the impending failure after a test she didn’t study for. If this is how she goes, that’s fine, though it sucks that she won’t even get to rub it in Yvie’s face that the vision was wrong–

The blow never comes.

She opens her eyes cautiously.

Moonlight glistens off the shiny ice crystals encasing his fist.

A powerful ice blast arcs through the air and Silver Steel thuds against the ground.

Frost holds her hand out to Vanjie, pulling her up. “You’re okay?”

She sucks in a painful breath, hand going to her ribs. “I’ll be fine. Brooke, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. When we get home, I need to give you a real apology. What I said to you…Look out!”

Silver Steel grabs Frost’s left arm and twists it behind her back while she struggles in his grip, and Vanjie hears something pop–

Vanjie tears him off her, fists raining down in a blur. She keeps going until he drops to the ground unconscious, then rushes to Frost, who touches her shoulder gingerly and grimaces.

“Are you okay? Tell me honestly.”

“M-my shoulder feels weird.”

Vanjie’s heart aches. “Get in the car.” —

After 5 minutes of going back and forth over who a doctor should take care of first, she and Brooke sit in Ra’jah’s office, Vanessa holding ice on her bruised ribs while they wait for Ra’jah to fix Brooke’s dislocated shoulder.

Whatever alcohol and drowsiness remained have cleared from her body, the image of Frost’s face paling and her eyes squeezing shut on the drive here sobering her instantly.

This is all her fault. If she hadn’t been an idiot, Brooke wouldn’t be sitting here sweating over seeing a doctor. They would be home in bed eating cookies and chips. She has to be more careful, she understands now. She’s not the only one she’s putting in danger.

Silk, Yvie, and Scarlet trickle in, and Vanessa grits her teeth.

“Didn’t you upgrade my suit when you did Frost’s? Shouldn’t it have stopped the steel fist, since it’s bulletproof?” Vanessa accuses angrily before Silk can start screaming about her recklessness.

“I said it would. Absorb. Most. Of. The. Impact,” Silk forces out, taking the bait of an argument. “Which it did, by the way, or you’d have a lot worse than bruised ribs. That was mainly for Brooke, if I’m honest. She’s a damn bullet magnet.”

“Did you know bullets actually aren’t magnetic?” Yvie asks to blank stares. “Just a fun fact,” she shrugs.

“I thought it was fun, honey,” Scarlet insists.

“Hey, maybe all you hoes can get outta here and let a doctor see Brooke!” Vanessa shouts, seeing Ra’jah in the doorway.

They clear out and Ra’jah walks in, Brooke immediately shrinking in fear. Vanessa takes her hand reassuringly.

“So, it’s only a minor dislocation, and I can push it back into place. I’m gonna give you a mild sedative for the pain, okay?” Ra’jah reaches for a needle and Brooke recoils as far back as the chair allows.

“No,” she gasps, breathing shallow, “I don’t want it.”

“Is it the needle? It’s okay, I’ll be right here,” Vanessa promises.

Brooke bites her lip. “It’s not that, it’s…it’ll make me sleepy, like I’m not in control. Just-just give me Tylenol or something. Vanessa, please. I can’t feel like that again.”

Brooke looks up at her, eyes desperate and trusting. Vanessa doesn’t want to see Brooke in any more pain, but how can she refuse when Brooke is begging her, when she would rather feel that pain than feel like the lab is drugging her again?

She looks at Ra’jah. “You got any Tylenol?”

Ra’jah nods and leaves the room, returning with two pills and a cup of water. “You’re sure about this?” she confirms, standing near Brooke’s shoulder as she swallows the pills.

Brooke nods. Vanessa squeezes her hand tightly.

“Okay.” Ra’jah positions herself and Vanessa looks away as Brooke almost crushes Vanessa’s hand and grunts in pain, but it’s a lot faster than she thought and they both breathe easier. Ra’jah puts Brooke’s left arm in a sling to keep it steady for a few days, and promises there won’t be any lasting damage.

Relief she doesn’t deserve washes over her. Brooke shouldn’t have gotten hurt at all. Wouldn’t have gotten hurt if Vanessa had just listened.

She pulls Brooke into the bathroom when they’re done.

“I’m so sorry, Brooke. No, don’t say anything,” she interrupts as Brooke’s mouth opens.

“I’m sorry I ran off like that and got you hurt. I’m so sorry for saying I’d be safer without you. I…I didn’t mean it. Brooke, honestly, I’ve never felt safer than I do when you’re around. You keep me safe and protect me even when I don’t deserve it. I mean, you showed up to help me tonight when I was awful to you. And I’m sorry for getting mad when you ask about my feelings. I know you’re trying to help. I don’t know what came over me, it was like I had no control. I’ve been so angry lately…but that’s not an excuse for what I said to you. I’m so sorry.”

She wipes her eyes furiously.

Brooke’s hand wraps around hers.

“Vanessa, it’s alright. I’m fine, really. I know you didn’t mean to say what you did. Me getting hurt was an accident. I knew the risks when I went out.” She takes a breath. “I need to apologize too. What you must be feeling…I-I can’t imagine the stress you’re under. I get why you’ve been angry and why it made you act out. If you want my help or you want to talk, I’m here, but I understand I need to not push so hard. And I shouldn’t have tried to make you stop helping people. Th-that was wrong. I’m sorry.” Brooke’s eyes are so sincere it takes her breath away. “I love you so much, Ness. I love you forever.”

She carefully eases Brooke down into a kiss, and things feel right again, more right than they have in months. —

A’Keria is waiting when they’re done and leads them into the conference room. Nina is at the head of the table and Vanessa immediately knows what this is but A’Keria has already shut the door, blocking her escape.

She glares at Silk. “An intervention?! You set up a fucking intervention?”

“Please don’t think of this as an intervention,” Nina says with frustrating patience. “We’re just going to talk a bit. If there’s something you want to share, that’s fine. If not, that’s fine too. Would you like to take a seat?”

So this isn’t an intervention. It’s her own personal hell.

Vanessa sighs and throws herself in the seat beside Scarlet, Brooke following as A’Keria joins Yvie and Silk.

“Would anyone like to start?” Nina asks.

“You need to be more careful, you could have gotten yourself killed!” Yvie snaps.

“Okay, maybe we can use a kinder tone in the future, but let’s start there,” Nina says. “So-”

“You think I don’t know that, Yvie? I learned my damn lesson, I don’t need you down my neck!”

“Let’s all take a breath,” Nina suggests, watching them expectantly until they do it. Vanessa feels slightly less ready to explode.

“Vanessa,” Nina continues. “Would you like to share anything about how you’re feeling, what you’ve been going through?” The amount of patience this woman has is quite honestly unbelievable.

She shrugs. “Mad, I guess. I mean, I’m possibly gonna die soon. How am I supposed to feel?” She mutters with defeat.

“You have every right to feel what you’re feeling,” Nina assures her.

“Can I say something?” Yvie asks.

“Of course.”

“I get the whole mad-at-the-world thing you’ve got going on.” Yvie takes a breath. “Two years ago I found out I have this connective tissue disorder. It makes my joints super-painful sometimes. I won’t be able to do this hero thing forever. This was right after I started getting the visions. I had no idea what I was doing. I was never fast enough to save anyone. So between my condition and being shitty at saving people, I figured, what’s the point? Why try to save people when I can’t and I have this condition anyway?”

Vanessa nods in understanding.

“Then I started getting more visions, and I couldn’t stop thinking about all these people in trouble, who didn’t have a chance because I wasn’t trying anymore. And I realized that just because I can’t do it forever, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it at all. So I tried harder, actually starting saving people. I want to just help people as long as I can. So, yeah, I get why you’re pissed.” She looks hesitantly at Vanessa, expression kind.

“Thank you sharing that, Yvie. Do you have anything to add, Vanessa? It’s perfectly okay to say no.”

She sighs. “I thought that way after the fire,” she confesses quietly. “When I got my powers, I didn’t want to use them. I was pissed. Why the hell should I save random people when I couldn’t save my own family? Why save someone else’s family when I couldn’t have mine? But that was the answer, I guess. Because I didn’t want anyone to lose their family. I probably…” she trails off.

Nina nods encouragingly.

“I probably blamed myself for losing them. Because if I hadn’t invited them over, they wouldn’t have died.” She’s surprised how easily the words leave her. It’s like they’ve been poisoning her heart all these years, just waiting for her to accept the antidote that would release them. She feels strangely lighter.

“I know you think that was your fault, but it was completely out of your control, Vanessa,” Nina’s voice is firm and Vanessa believes her. She knew, logically, that it wasn’t her fault, but it’s nice to have someone else say it.

“I, um, I know how it feels to blame yourself for something that wasn’t your fault,” Brooke says quietly. “I-I’m not ready to talk about it with everyone, but my past experiences haven’t been that great.”

“Jesus, am I the only one that didn’t get the tragic backstory memo?” Scarlet mumbles. “Sorry, that was probably mean, wasn’t it?”

But they all burst into laughter, and Vanessa feels better. She really does. —

The first thing she does is throw out all the liquor. She knows she won’t do it again, but she doesn’t even want the temptation.

She sinks into a routine. She cuts down on patrols and only goes with the group, like a preschooler on a field trip. She cooks dinner alone a few nights, then with Brooke when her sling comes off. They make breakfast for dinner and roll out homemade pizza dough and encourage each other to eat. She walks Riley and pets the cats and kisses Brooke every chance she gets.

Her mother is laughing at one of Vanessa’s work stories when the glass shatters.

Someone screams. Broken glass is all that remains of her windows, and she peers out the open gaps into the night. The chemical plant across the street is lost behind a cloud of hazy gray smoke tinged with green. Red-orange flames rise out of the smoke, headed straight for her apartment.

The smoke hits first, a burning sensation spreading through her veins as the gray-green blur touches her skin and throws the apartment into darkness. She tries to find her mom but she’s so dizzy, and flames are licking at the walls like a serpent’s tongue–

She runs to the bathroom and greedily gulps water like it can put out the fire in her mind. If she has that dream one more time she might smash something. She takes slow breaths that are not thick with smoke but do send bolts of pain through her still-bruised chest. When she comes back, Brooke is sitting up in bed, low lamplight illuminating her sobs.

She rushes to her side, her own dream forgotten. She cautiously puts a hand on her back, since touch sometimes scared Brooke when she couldn’t distinguish dream from reality. She leans into it, though, and Vanessa rubs slow circles. “Baby, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

Brooke nods shakily. She can barely get the words out. “Th-they caught me and said I’d nev-never s-see you again, and I wo-woke up and you weren’t there and I thought…”

She feels like her heart is being ripped out. That might actually hurt less. She lets her own tears fall and pulls Brooke into the tightest hug she can manage. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

She’ll do everything in her power to keep that promise. —

“Red velvet!”

“Cheesecake, bitch!”

“Momma wants red velvet!”

The brunch table is at war over what dessert they should have on Christmas (in addition to the 20 types of cookies Brooke’s already started) with A’Keria leading the cheesecake charge and Silk ready to die on the battlefield of red velvet.

“We can have both?” Brooke offers, as Scarlet stops Silk from catapulting bacon at A’Keria.

It’s 13 days to Christmas, and Vanessa wants to be optimistic. She gets Brooke a bunch of the cozy, oversized sweaters she loves, soft as a cloud, then orders some baking thing she had excitedly talked about when a chef used it on the Food Network. She gets her fuzzy pajamas with snowflakes and reindeer for her winter-loving, Canadian ass. One of the presents requires a lengthy phone call and a page full of notes, and one reduces her stomach to a ball of nerves.

She hopes she gets to see Brooke’s face when she opens them. —

They get their shot at Shockwave and Quake the next night, teaming up with Scarlet and Yvie. She vows to be careful, but they all know she can’t sit this one out. Not against powers like theirs.

She doesn’t even realize it’s that church until she sees the 11:01 staring down at her. It’s oddly comforting, seeing the wrong time. Even though it’s the scene from the vision, it feels normal. Vanjie doesn’t know if she expected to feel the presence of death or what, but all she feels is annoyed as the wind whips around, tangling her hair in front of her eyes. She gathers it into a ponytail, alarm bells sounding faintly in the back of her mind.

“Where are these bums?” She demands, kicking through inches of snow.

On cue, they appear from behind the church and saunter over.

“Nobody move!” Quake orders, Shockwave brandishing balls of lightning. “We want to talk first.”

“Long time no see,” Vanjie mutters. “It was nice not looking at your busted faces.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Shockwave promises. “We had to get it just right, you see.”

“Get what right?”

But he doesn’t answer.

“We have an offer for you, Frost,” Quake says darkly.

“I-I don’t want anything from you.”

“You want to hear this one,” Quake promises. “All those years we spent working for you. We want you to work for us. Do our dirty work while we focus on our ideas. I bet you’re not feeling so well without your medicine. Probably having a lot of nightmares. Wouldn’t you like them to stop? Don’t you think you’d feel better if you had it again?”

He pulls a syringe filled with blue liquid from his belt and Vanjie knows what he meant by getting it right. They want to drug her again, make her their pet.

“I don’t want that,” Frost says firmly.

“You might think that. But I know you do,” Shockwave says. “We left one little thing out. You come with us, or your girlfriend dies.”

And then he lunges at her, clenches an arm around her neck and lowers a lightning bolt beside her head, and the heat coming off it makes her sweat.

No one moves. Frost’s eyes go wide. She bites her lip, and Vanjie knows. She’s going to say yes. She’s going to let them take her, all to keep her safe.

Frost lifts her hands, and Vanjie’s heart tears.

“You can have me,” she says. “Please don’t hurt Vanjie.”

“B-Frost, no! Don’t worry about me!” She yells uselessly. Frost is already walking over to Quake, whole body shaking.

She thinks to when they were enemies, when Frost had that cold, dead look in her eyes Vanjie thought was malice but was just the drugs numbing her emotions, stealing her identity. She thinks to that first night they spent in her bed, when her hands warmed Frost’s face, and the later realization she’d had that Frost probably couldn’t remember being touched by hands that didn’t hurt her. She thinks of Brooke flinching whenever she sees a doctor, looking over her shoulder everywhere they go to make sure they’re both safe. How she tries so hard to stop doing those things. The nightmares where she cried in her sleep and re-lived things Vanessa couldn’t even imagine–

No.

They’re not taking her, and Vanjie won’t let them use her against Frost–against Brooke. This ends now.

She slams her boot down on Shockwave’s foot, and it’s enough to get her off him and into Yvie’s punches. She hurls fire at Quake, sending him flying backwards, syringe breaking, before he touches Frost.

Vanjie throws her arms around Frost, who is still trembling, eyes damp. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she pants. “I couldn’t let them kill you…”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. We’re okay. Don’t be sorry. You’re not going with them. I won’t let anyone take you.”

The ground suddenly rumbles beneath them, a gap opening like a giant mouth and splitting them apart. Rocks and dirt fly into the air, and Vanjie covers her face to ward off the sharp edges.

She looks wildly for Frost once the dust settles, and spots her on the other side of the 20-foot gap. She looks okay, but she turns and Vanjie’s heart clogs up her throat. There’s a small cut along her hairline slowly trickling blood down the right side of her face.

Brooke’s face was bleeding, Yvie had said. It can’t be. Not already.

“I’m going after Quake!” Scarlet calls, running into the woods. “Yvie’s with Shockwave!”

“Shockwave’s mine,” Vanjie insists.

Frost nods. “I’ll go with Scarlet.”

Vanjie reaches out her hand, longing to touch Frost’s cold fingers, but the gap between them is as large as the ocean.“Be careful, alright? I love you.”

“I love you too,” Frost says. Her blue suit fades into the trees.

Vanessa trudges around the front of the church to Shockwave and Yvie locked in battle.

Lightning buzzes around his hands, and Vanjie feels the energy, the electricity, in the air.

The clock is wrong, but three pieces of the vision are in place, and if this is it, Vanjie’s not going down without a fight. Or answers.

“Do you know what happened to the Memoriax formula?” It’s a shot in the dark, but if there’s even a chance, she has to take it.

He scoffs, landing a blow to Yvie’s side. “Trying to help your ice bitch? Please. We destroyed that months ago. It would have failed anyway. Everything about it was wrong. Would have scrambled her brain even more than we did,” he snickers as he swerves away from Yvie’s fist.

She sighs. She senses he’s telling the truth; he’d never miss a chance to call out someone’s stupidity. Maybe it’s better Brooke didn’t take it when she had been tempted all those months ago.

“Why’d you kill the other lab employees?” Vanjie demands, throwing flames.

He lurches out of the way. “They were worthless. The General’s pets, just like Frost. But Quake and I are different,” he declares, and one of his bolts grazes her arm, her whole body buzzing with pain. So he was one of those average white dudes who thought he was special. Vanjie should’ve seen that one coming.

She throws another fireball as he continues. “They followed the rules. They looked down on us. Would’ve turned us in if they knew we were experimenting. With them gone, no one would stop us from actually using our inventions. No one would stop us from giving ourselves powers. And we did.”

“But what’s your point? You hated the lab, so you killed everyone there. You gave yourselves powers. Now what?” She inches closer, punching his nose with her sore arm and delighting in the blood that spurts out as Yvie kicks his back, but he’s up quickly, lightning around his hands preventing another move.

“We got our revenge. Now we make Frost suffer. She’s the last piece. After that?” He shrugs. “We do whatever we want.”

He hurls another ball of lightning and she throws herself on the ground, twisting her neck as it flies above her. Then she sees its path, in slow motion. The ball crackles through the air and bursts against the base of the clock tower. It forms a jagged crack in the wall that travels up to the face, splitting the porcelain and jostling the minute hand.

Vanjie knows she shouldn’t look.

She doesn’t need to look.

But she does anyway.

11:03.

A silent death bell.

Yvie kicks his ribs, but Shockwave sends her sprawling across the snow, and she doesn’t move. He comes at Vanjie violently as she stands, and she’s not fast enough. She’s not fast enough and he avoids her fireball, and his lightning explodes in her chest, and it doesn’t let up. It zaps her energy, and she can’t even lift an arm to fight, collapsing as electricity tears through her body and her thoughts ignite.

This isn’t happening. She’s going to eat both the cakes Brooke’s making for Christmas.

Her blood is boiling from the electric current.

This isn’t happening. She’s going to see that grin stretch across Brooke’s face when she opens her presents.

Her veins are frying.

This isn’t happening. She’s going to kiss Brooke again.

Her heart is on fire.

Brooke.

It all goes black.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #scarlet envy #branjie #angst #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #superhero au #overpowered #athena2 #tw alcohol #tw violence #tw mild injury #concrit welcome #submission #s11

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lickstynine · 6 years

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Happy Holigays

This is a sequel to my Secret Santa gift from @builder051, featuring young! Min and Kazu. Make sure to read it first, cause it sets the scene for this. I really loved it, and had to build (ha get it) off it. I know it’s set on Christmas and I’m like a week and a half late, but... I don’t really give a fuck. it’s all fiction anyway. Enjoy.

It was well into the wee hours of the morning when the two finally made their way to bed. Kazu pulled Min against his chest, keeping the small blond from falling off mattress's edge. The old twin bed was far too small for two people, and nearly half a foot too short for Kazu, but as the alternative was a park bench, he really didn't care. Burying his face in Min's bleach-blond fluff, Kazu started to doze off, the exhaustion of fever taking a toll on his battered body.

As Christmas morning rolled around, Minato got up bright and early; the bakery was closed today, but he still wanted time to have breakfast and watch the snow fall outside. Settling in at one of the small tables out front, he gazed out the big glass window, nibbling on warm, fresh pancakes and sipping hot chocolate. Normally he would have milk or tea with breakfast, but fuck it, it's Christmas.

There was a sharp chill in the air - the bakery didn't have a very good heater, it usually relied on the running ovens for warmth. Shivering slightly, Min stole a throw blanket off the couch, wrapping it around himself like a cape. He made his way back to the kitchen, cleaning off the griddle he'd made pancakes on and setting it aside. He turned instead to the kettle, pouring more hot water into a new packet of cocoa mix. He had the ingredients to make it from scratch, but he was feeling as lazy as he was indulgent.

Grabbing a candy cane from the jar on the counter, and a few cookies from the plate next to it, Min settled on the couch, turning on the TV, but leaving the volume low so as not to bother Kazu. He had a feeling his boyfriend would still be in pretty poor shape today, and Min wondered whether he had the ingredients to make chicken soup. Shrugging to himself, he cozied up under his blanket; soup wouldn't matter for at least a few more hours - Kazu wouldn't be up before noon unless the house was on fire.

Min was deep into some tired old hallmark movie when footsteps behind him alerted him to his boyfriend's presence. Kazu had dragged the comforter out of bed with him, and he shuffled over to the couch, dropping down next to Minato with a groan.

"Hi sweetie." The tiny blond ventured, "how are you feeling?"

"Shitty." Kazu's voice was barely there, a hoarse shadow of his usual deep baritone. He felt like he was dying - a hangover and a high fever were a nasty combination, and the added pain in his hurt wrist didn't help. He closed his eyes, the dim light of the old TV aggravating his headache.

Minato frowned sympathetically, scooting over to cozy up against his boyfriend. He ran a hand through Kazu's messy hair, loosening some of the tangles with his small, nimble fingers. Despite how quiet the dark-haired boy was being, Min could tell he was miserable, and tried to think what he might do to help. "I'm gonna go to the kitchen. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Mm." Kazu nodded vaguely; it was unsure whether he actually heard Min, or was just pretending to listen. Either way, the tiny blond shuffled off, reheating the kettle and putting a pot on the stove. Minato ended up being gone nearly forty minutes. Kazu started to grow bored, opening one eye to scan the tiny living room. The shitty hallmark movie was currently on a commercial, which was debatably more entertaining than the film itself.

There were two presents hiding under the tree in the corner. Well, 'tree' was a generous term. It was a cone of cardboard wrapped in green tinsel, with dollar store ornaments stuck around it; Kazu had assembled it a few weeks ago, when Min broke down crying upon realizing they couldn't afford a tree. Kazu knew what one of the gifts was - the large, flat envelope concealed a portrait he'd spent weeks on, of him and Min in their favourite garden. He assumed the wrapped box to be holding something equally cheap and symbolic - perhaps some homemade jewelry, or a crocheted blanket. He couldn't know for sure, though. Min had been intensely secretive about the whole gifting process, wanting them both to be surprised on Christmas. Kazu couldn't help but feel a little guilty; he stayed in Min's house, ate his food, wasted his time, and all he had to offer was a drawing. It was an excellent piece of art, but it still felt worthless compared to all that Minato gave him.

His focus on the tree started to blur, and Kazu stretched out on the couch, grimacing and groaning as he struggled to get comfortable. His whole body ached, and there was an intense pain lingering in his right hand. He couldn't even remember what he'd done to hurt it last night, but it had to have been nasty. He was just glad it hasn't been his shoulder again; it still hadn't quite recovered from the last dislocation, and was also aching quite a bit with the aggravation of illness. Kazu closed his eyes, rubbing his temple with his good hand. His body was such a wreck - it'd be a miracle if he made it to thirty at this rate. He wondered if he even wanted to make it to thirty.

Kazu's morbid train of thought was cut short by the cheery voice of his boyfriend. Minato had returned, bearing soup, tea, and painkillers. Kazu sat up, reaching first for the pills, downing them dry before grabbing the tea to ease his sore throat. "You're the best, babe." He croaked, "is your church still doing the saint thing? Cause you should be one."

Minato giggled, rolling his eyes and sitting down next to his boyfriend. "I'm not that great. Besides, I think you have to actually be a devout Catholic to be a saint. I haven't even been to church since I was like seventeen."

"Eh, you're better'n those stuffy old fucks in my book." Kazu shrugged, wincing regretfully at the twinge in his bad shoulder. He wondered if it was acting up because he was sick and achy, or if he'd messed it up again last night, and just been too wasted to notice. He set his tea aside after a few sips, tugging the comforter around himself with a shiver.

Min frowned in concern. Kazu was normally very resilient to the cold; just last week, he'd been hanging out in this same chilly room in his boxers. For him to be shivering, he had to be seriously ill. Minato pressed a hand to Kazu's forehead, his icy fingers absorbing the heat as it radiated off his boyfriend. "Don't drink any more tea for a bit. I need to check your temperature."

"Won't the meds 've kicked in?"

"Not that fast." Min explained, climbing to his feet to find the thermometer. It was still on the bathroom counter, left over from last night. He tucked it into the sleeve of his sweater, stopping in the kitchen for a cookie before returning to Kazu. The dark-haired boy was curled up on the couch, eyes glazed over and cheeks flushed. Min flapped his sleeves in concern, almost losing the thermometer in the process. Though he'd taken care of hurt Kazu many times, he'd never seen his boyfriend sick before, and it was worrying on a different level. He sat back down on the couch, fidgeting anxiously as he looked over at the dark-haired troublemaker.

Turning to the Hallmark movie to keep himself occupied, Min still found himself glancing obsessively at his phone, checking it every thirty or so seconds until enough time had passed. After about fifteen minutes, he picked up the thermometer, reaching over to stick it in Kazu's mouth. The dark-haired boy mumbled something unintelligible, likely a dick joke, and Minato poked his nose.

"Hush."

The mercury crept slowly up the thin glass tube, and after a moment, Min gently retrieved it, squinting in the dim light to make out the tiny numbers. "One oh... oh my god..." His jaw dropped, and his sleeves began flapping again. "I think you need to see a doctor."

"You're stressing too much, babe. 'S just a fever. I always run hot, it ain't as bad as it looks." Kazu wasn't actually sure of that, but he was an excellent liar, and he put his good hand on Min's shoulder to further reassure his tiny boyfriend.

Minato sighed, still waving his sleeves as he spoke. "Okay, but if you're not feeling better tomorrow, doctor."

"Sure. That's fine." Kazu knew he could talk his way out of it, even if he was literally on fire tomorrow. Min was soft and naive and relentlessly optimistic; just saying "It's okay" was often enough to win him over.

"Good." Min tried to think of something more cheerful. "Do you feel up to opening presents?"

Kazu nodded, "Yea, why not. You first."

Minato hurried over to the tree, grabbing both gifts and setting them on the coffee table. He picked up his present, working his finger under the flap of the envelope to unstick the glue rather than tearing it. After a bit of fiddling, he pulled out a large sheet of heavy drawing paper, filled with easily forty hours' worth of intricate graphite.

Min's eyes widened and a grin spread across his face. "It's beautiful..." he beamed, "I love it." He tucked it very carefully back into the envelope, making sure not to bend or smudge it. "I'll find a frame tomorrow when the stores are open. I want to put it up on the wall."

"Eh, it ain't that great..." Kazu shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise.

"Are you kidding? You're such a good artist, it's crazy." Min scooped up the box now, offering it to his boyfriend. "Come on. Open yours. I got a great present, now it's your turn."

Kazu struggled with the wrapping for a moment; it was hard to untie a bow one-handed. Once he'd loosed the ribbon, he tore into the paper, lifting the cardboard lid without much expectation. As he focused on the gift inside, Kazu let out an audible gasp. It was a sleek leather jacket, sturdy and warm, with a hooded inner layer. He recognized it immediately, and felt a pang of guilt in his chest; it must've cost Min two months' savings at least.

"Do you like it? I remember you ogling it when we were window shopping last month." Minato smiled softly, hugging his boyfriend's closer arm.

Kazu nodded, barely able to force out the words. "I... I love it. Thank you."

"I thought you might. God knows you need a new one." Minato mused, his mind drifting to Kazu's old jacket. An amalgamation of fleece and denim, it was once black, but had faded to grey, and was more patches and cigarette burns than fabric. Though originally quite warm, it had long worn thin, and was well overdue for a replacement.

"Well, yeah, but... It's expensive..." Kazu's scratchy voice wavered in distress. "I didn't spend shit on you..." he mumbled shamefully.

Minato rolled his eyes. "I know that. You think I care? I love you, and I don't want you freezing to death. It doesn't matter if you repay me."

Kazu shook his head, too exhausted to argue. “You’re crazy, babe.” He croaked, carefully folding the jacket back into the box before setting it aside.

“Crazy for you.” Min corrected, climbing into Kazu’s lap. “Mm… you’re nice and warm.”

“No shit,” Kazu rolled his eyes, “I gotta fever.”

Minato shrugged. “At least you’re good for cuddling.” He tugged the comforter over them both, cozying up in Kazu’s lap.

The dark-haired boy wanted to protest. Despite having taken medicine, he was only feeling worse, and he’d been planning to retreat back to the bedroom after presents. The pounding in his head and churning in his stomach had him ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, but when Min let out a tiny content sigh, Kazu knew his fate was sealed. He’d be on the couch for the foreseeable future whether he liked it or not. Not that Minato wouldn’t have moved if Kazu asked, but because Kazu couldn’t bring himself to ask. He knew the tiny blond was happy and comfortable, and he’d already been enough of a thorn in Min’s side this Christmas. He could suck it up and be sick later.

Stuck on the couch with nothing to do but think, Kazu couldn't help but reflect on his gift. Was he a piece of shit for accepting an expensive present from Minato, when he already stayed at the bakery rent-free? Or did stuff like that stop mattering if you were dating the person in question? Should he have worked more last month, and maybe wasted a little less cash on his own vices, so he could get Min a real gift? Min had seemed pleased with the drawing, but maybe he was faking it…

No. Minato couldn't tell a lie to save his life, and he was very easy to please. If he said he liked something, he did. Kazu twisted his hair around the fingers of his good hand, the voices in his head still debating about how he was a piece of shit who didn't deserve Min, much less nice gifts from him. A shaky sigh rattled out of Kazu, and the seemingly distracted Min leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“If you don't feel good, go back to bed. We can do something together when you feel better.”

The dark-haired boy blinked in surprise, looking down at Minato through bleary eyes. “Are ya sure? I already crashed your Christmas Eve, I don't wanna make today suck, too.”

Min rolled his eyes, gently booping Kazu’s nose with his fingertip. “I don't care what day it is, stupid. I just want you to feel better. I'll be happy whenever we get to do stuff.”

“You… you will?”

“Of course I will.” Min nodded, wrapping his arms gently around his boyfriend. “You need to get some rest. Are you more comfortable here or in bed?”

Kazu just shrugged; both the couch and bed were too short for him, it was really just a matter of laziness - did he want to get up, or stay where he was?

“I won't move you then.” Minato decided, pecking Kazu on the cheek again before climbing to his feet. “I should make sure the kitchen is ready for tomorrow. Just call if you need anything.”

“Mm.” Kazu nodded, more dismissive than acknowledging as he curled up on the couch. He didn't need anything aside from sleep, and he knew Min would be careful not to bother him.

Min leaned down over the couch, making sure Kazu was well tucked in before walking off. “Sleep well, sweetie. Merry Christmas. I love you.”

“Yea… love you, too.”

#whump #illness #fever #cold #kazuhiro #yokota #minato #kurosawa #some real gay shit #builder051

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