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purelyplatonicreader · 1 year

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Luck- Robbie Reyes x disabled!reader (platonic)

Hey y’all! Wanted to write a fic with a chronic pain haver/mobility aid user because I can relate! Also, wow my Oliver Queen fic did better than expected. Anyway, I had an absolute seizure trying to format this so it’s not great but yipee I’m posting?

Reader is an ambulatory cane user- self-indulgent

WARNING: Contains graphic descriptions of violence

“Thank you again for helping me,” You said shyly, grabbing your backpack and shuffling through some assignments.

“No problem.” Gabe responded cheerily, moving his own work out. While Gabe was academically successful, you struggled quite a bit. It made school miserable but Gabriel Reyes, to you, was a godsend.

You’d been studying with him in school during breaks for the past few days, with finals week approaching, but today he offered you to come over. Timidly you obliged, knowing well that schoolwork was your top priority but Gabe’s friendship was an added bonus. The two of you began working on some assignments (ones you’d neglected to turn in throughout the past few weeks) and minutes turned to hours. Before you knew it, you’d been sitting there well into the evening, working away. You were about to start packing up your when, as if on cue, a knock sounded at the door.

“I can get it,” You offered, pushing yourself up.

Gabe looked mildly excited. “It’s probably my brother.” He responded.

You moved to the door, opening it. In front of you, covered in grease, was a young man, no more than 5 years your senior. He looked a lot like Gabe- similar narrow face and dark eyes. He looked at you, his face unreadable but it didn’t seem anything more than slightly confused (probably wondering why it wasn’t Gabe at the door looking back at him.)

“Robbie! Hey!” Gabe said, wheeling back from the table where the two of you had been working. You moved out of the way, dipping your head slightly as to acknowledge Robbie, and shut the door behind you. Before the man could open his mouth and ask, Gabe gave you an introduction.

“This is Y/N, (they’re/he’s/she’s) a friend from class.”

“Hello,” You said, with an awkward little wave.

“Isn’t it a bit late on a school night for you to have friends over?”

His comment wasn’t rude, but genuine.

“Oh, he’s helping me study for exams coming up. I lost track of time, I was just about to head out anyway, I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” You answered quickly, reaching your your bookbag and cane, both of which were slightly leaned against the table. Gabe made a point of clearing his stuff too.

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Gabe spoke, but you couldn’t really tell to whom. Robbie was taking off an interesting-looking leather jacket and hanging it off the counter.

“How’d you plan on getting home?” Robbie asked, turning his head over his shoulder as he scrubbed grease from his hands.

“Oh eh- Probably just walking.” You said. Something about him made you nervous- it was probably just a general fear of new people, but there was a certain intensity to him. He eyed the cane in your hand for a moment. You turned to Gabe, knowing it’d be easier to tell him and let Robbie hear you then to explain anything directly.

“It’s been nice, not having flare-ups the past few days. I’ve been waking a bit more.” You said with forced enthusiasm.

“It’s a little late for someone like you to be out walking alone.”

“It’s fine,” You tried, shifting your weight. “It’s only like… a mile-“

“It’s not smart,” he said flatly. “Catching a bus would be better, but the routes are closed at this hour.”

“I guess that narrows my options down to walking anyway,” You forced a chuckle, shrugging a bit.

Robbie’s phone began to buzz. He looked at it blankly before moving to pick his jacket up from the chair.

“Sorry mijo, gotta run.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “What now?” He sighed, amusingly exasperated.

You looked at Robbie. He seemed to think about the question for a bit too long. “Girl I’ve been after got back to me. I’ll try not to be out long.”

Gabe scoffed. “We both know that means I’ll see you tomorrow night. Bye, Robbie.”

He nodded, looking at you before slipping out the door. You raised your hand in a small wave.

Not long after Robbie left did it take you to get out, too. You made it home alright.

Over the next few weeks, that series of events became routine. You’d stay a little bit later than intended, Robbie would come home covered in grease wearing his signature black leather jacket, you’d make a tiny bit of small talk, Robbie would get some kind of alert (phone calls, texts, etc.), and would run off with some excuse. Sometimes it was girls wanting to get with him, or that he’d forgetting something at work (which you, overtime, gathered was at an auto shop), maybe he’d have a dragracing competition, or a client in destress, he always seemed to come up with some variation of “I gotta run” each night.

You, on the other hand, repeated your less exciting routine. A walk home to a dark, maybe empty, house. The walk itself wasn’t too bad- sometimes pain would make it more miserable, but you managed, cane clicking along your side. Robbie’s comments about it being safe, however, did make you uneasy. You knew that crime was an issue where you, your family, and the Reyes family lived. Gabe had been targeted before, during a blackout from some mutant related whatever. At some point you’d stopped questioning it. Mutants, superheroes, all of it seemed so… annoying. It’s not like you disliked heroes, but there was something to be said about the damage they caused. Mutants also sparked so much unnecessary controversy. They shouldn’t be outcasted for something they couldn’t control- you knew that well enough.

As always your night repeated. Tonight’s study session ended a little early. Gabe was exhausted from the constant working, and you’d been feeling less than adequate the past few days. Whatever was causing your flare up was getting in your way. The walk home wasn’t something you looked forward to, but as always you brushed off the need for a ride and Robbie darted away anyhow.

Streetlights flickered as you walked, your pace easy but your mind restless. A series of gang-related thefts had been reported in your area. As far as you knew, there hadn’t been much done about them, but muggers took the chance to increase their lousy presence You didn’t really know much, but you didn’t like the idea of being seen as an easy target. Nonetheless you continued onward, carefully watching your surroundings.

Not looking at the rough sidewalk beneath your feet, you tripped for a moment, stumbling for a second and dropping your cane. Distracted and in pain, you seized up for a minute, the jerking motion worsening the discomfort. Bending down you picked up the stick, hearing a metallic click behind your head. Fear gripped your body as you stood up, raising your arms slightly. Looking at you with a gun pointed towards you was a young man, only a few years your senior. A second, larger man had appeared at your side, blocking your path. You flinched back, a little too aggressively, and both men lunged closer.

“Don’t fucking try anything you little shit or I’ll light up your fucking chest.”

“I’m sorry, I-“ You choked out, nervously, stepping back.

“I said don’t fucking move!” He shouted, closing in on you. You felt tears well up in your eyes.

‘I’m going to die. Shit, I’m going to die.’ You thought frantically, chest tightening.

“Open your backpack.” The other man ordered.

“I don’t have anything I sw-“

“Open the fucking backpack!”

You held your breath, slowly dumping the school bag out. The man to your side began digging around. After a moment he looked up and shook his head.

“S-see? Noth-“

Within seconds you were face to face with hot, disgusting breath and a gun shoved into your temple, a rough hand gripping the collar of your shirt. You fought back tears, shutting your eyes. Your cane clattered to the ground.

“I don’t have anything!” You yelped, weak without the support.

“I’ll fucking pat you down myself.” He began to lower the weapon.

Without warning you kneed him in the stomach, flailing back as he let go in surprise. You tried to turn and run, but felt the body of your cane slam into the side of your head. A sticky feeling on the side of your face made you realize you were bleeding as you veered towards the concrete. Your head hit the pavement with a sickening thunk.

Spots clouded your eyes as your ears rang loudly. The crack of wood over one of your attacker’s knees made your heart sink as you heard your now broken cane clatter to the floor.

“Pat (them/him/her) down, quick!” A muffled voice called, exhaustion starting to pull your eyes back. All you could feel in your skull was radiating, dense pain.

Your vision clouded even further. A dull rev of an engine vibrated the ground you were lying on, blood pooling from your head and staining the concrete in dribbles. Stunned, you waited to feel the hands of the thieves through your layers of pockets. You had cash in your wallet- at least enough for them to be satisfied. Your debit card too. Bank card. License. Part of you knew you should have been more anxious. But you felt so tired…

A faint orange glow came from over your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back and shut, darkness swarming your senses.

A hot, gentle hand touched your wrist- it felt like the person was feeling for a pulse. You cracked an eye open only to regret it. Before you was who you could only call a devil. A human skull on fire loomed over you.

‘I’ve done it,’ you thought in utter dismay, ‘I’ve died and the devil himself is taking me into hell.’

You let out a terrified mumble, trying to inch back as disoriented as you were. Your head pounded but at that point you couldn’t care less.

The beast’s hand, sturdy, tried to calm you but you tried to reach up, frantically trying to protect yourself.

Slowly skin began to wrap around the skull, muscle being woven layer by layer. You were gripped with fear, eyes wide. Your chest heaved a mile a minute, horrified as you watched the human face heal around flaming bones. For the first time, you noticed a familiar jacket.

As his face reformed you choked out, “Robbie?”

“Hey, hey, you’re good, breathe.”

He reached behind your head, skin still warm. You started to sit up, his hand leading you.

You winced, hand shakily reaching to touch your bleeding face. The body of your cane made a nice gash. The bleeding had slowed to a trickle, but at the very least you’d need butterfly bandages to keep it closed.

“Can you walk?” Robbie asked, still crouched in front of you.

You eyed your broken cane. Through painful, fearful thoughts, it occurred to you that your pain previous to the blow to the head had worsened. Now your cane was shattered too.

“I can try-“ You said, beginning to push yourself up with shaking limbs. Robbie’s hands were ready to spot you, your weight pushing into the one still resting on your upper back. It didn’t take long for you to fall.

You felt a violent jolt of pain shoot through you, feeling one of your legs buckle before turning to jelly.

You let out a startled, high pitched yelp, preparing to brace your own landing, but you were intercepted by a hand. It snaked under your shoulders, and his other gripped your arm.

“Sorry-“ you said quickly, face burning.

“I’m here, no worries.” He said softly. “No tienes que disculparte, tómalo con calma.” He added.

Hesitantly you leaned into him, still a bit mortified. Accepting help had never been easy- something about vulnerability always seemed to embarrass you. Despite that, it was something you still had to face regularly. Robbie, on the other hand, handled the situation well.

“I’ll get you to my car, you can wait as I clean up this mess.” His said seriously.

After a few stumbles you both made it to his car. It really was a sight to see, black paint glimmering faintly under the white light of the moon.

He opened the passenger side door, guiding you down. You mumbled half-audible thank-you’s and awkward apologies. His responses were gentle acknowledgments and variations of “It’s all good” and “You’re doing fine.” His soothes were comforting.

“Wait here.” he said. Robbie moved to the back of the car. You reached up again to touch the wound on your head and. flinched away from your fingers as they prodded the bruising gash. Robbie returned with a clean rag, some water, and a bit of medical tape. Kneeling in front of you he poured a bit of water onto the rag and handed it to you.

“Dk you know how to clean wounds?” He asked.

You nodded, the events of the night beginning to replay in your head. You were starting to process Robbie’s… flaming skull. Part of you wanted to chalk it up to some concussed, confused delusion, but you couldn’t. The heat, the charred bodies he’d tried to shield from you as he’d helped you up, they were real. They were too real to be anything else.

After a pause you took the rag, your shakiness having worsened. You tried to concentrate on steading your outstretched hand but it wasn’t working.

“Are you cold?” he said quickly, immediately shifting out of his jacket. A tight black t-shirt was revealed underneath.

“No, really, I’m fine, I don’t really know why I’m shaking so much.” You said with a slight, tense laugh, anxiety heightened as your experience hit you. You could feel your throat tighten. His coat was draped around your shoulders. It was a good lot too big, but you pulled it around you, the warmth making you feel safe.

You grabbed the rag. You poured some water on it and put it to your forehead. An audible wince left your mouth.

“It’ll hurt more if you don’t clean it properly.” He handed you the butterfly bandages with little emotion. “I’m gonna grab your bag.”

You stared blankly at him for a moment. Your eyes became faintly glassy.

He soon came back. You had watched him shove the content of your backpack into its rightful place.

He paused, looking at your cane broken on the floor. “You want me to grab this?”

You blinked vacantly. “Uh- No, that’s al- actually sure, I should- I should probably throw it away. No use leaving it here.” You added, the last part quiet.

He half-shrugged before picking your bag and the splintered wood up. Robbie handed you the backpack, which you gripped tightly, and threw the splintered cane in the back. You kept the rag pressed to your head, dabbing it every once in a while. He slammed the back door shut, making you jump. Your heart leapt from the startle.

He looked at you for a moment. “You ok?”

“Hmm? Yeah.” You said blankly, knuckles white as they gripped the bag.

He blinked before moving to the drivers seat. He opened the door, settling in. You watched him check his mirrors.

“Do you have anyone at home who could watch you?” He started, turning on the engine. “I don’t really know how hard you got hit, but I don’t think you’ll need to go to urgent care or anything” He didn’t look at you while he spoke. “Still, you should have someone watch you for a day or so- very least through the night.”

Meanwhile, you were lost in your own head. A distant look glazed your face as you stared at the dashboard. You couldn’t explain what had just happened. You’d heard rumors of course, of some kind of flame-skulled devil roaming at night, beating up anyone who caused trouble, but you’d assumed they were just stories to discourage thieves. But you saw something. The imagery of Robbie’s face slowly, agonizingly sewing itself up from the bone up into the face of your friend’s brother stuck with you. It kept replaying, the memory. You tensed.

“Y/N?”

He sounded like he was miles away.

“Hey, you with me?”

A gentle hand gripped your shoulder. You perked up, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Every time you thought of him, every time you looked at him, all you could think of was the skin and muscle reforming around his bones.

“Sorry?” You choked out, blinking.

“I asked if you had anyone at home to watch you.”

“Watch me?”

He opened his mouth to reply when you interrupted him.

“Oh- Oh you mean for the- for the concussion. Potential concussion? Sorry. No, but I should be fine.” You squinted, a sharp stinging coming from the gash on your head.

“I’ll take you back to my place then. I wasn’t planning on doing much anyhow.”

“No- no it’s fine, really, I don’t want to in-“

“With all due respect I’m not asking. Its not safe for a kid like you to be home alone, not after a hit like that.”

He still didn’t take his eyes off the road. You squirmed slightly, the pain from your head lessening as your usual pain returned.

The car ride felt quiet. You didn’t argue, just sat in awkward discomfort. You had so many questions. The thought of it all overwhelmed you. You could feel your eyelids droop every few minutes but you were still trying to keep yourself awake. Robbie’s jacket was draped around your shoulders. You felt a bit like a little kid kid. The warmth reminded you of falling asleep during car rides as a child and your (dad/mom/parent) carrying you in. Simpler times you thought, pulling the jacket further around you. You really wanted to confront him. Say something. Say anything about whatever you’d just witnessed.

After a bit of driving, you passed by a wall of graffiti. The ghost rider’s face was spray painted across it.

“Do you believe in the devil?” You blurted.

“What?” Robbie hadn’t been expecting the question.

“The devil. A devil. I’ve heard whispers of it around… a devil walking the streets.”

“I haven’t heard anything ab-“

You cut him off. “What happened to the bodies of the people who tried to… assault- rob- whatever- mug me?” You sounded accusatory.

“They’re face-down on the pavement.” He said sharply.

You paused. You couldn’t just be an ass about this- not after he saved you.

“…They looked charred.”

Silence.

Robbie spoke.

“You asked me if I believed in the devil, and I do. I do because there is one inside of me, itching to come out. Constantly. I was supposed to die in the accident that hurt Gabe, but something kept me here. And now he- whatever the hell he is- is in me. The ghost rider kept me alive with the exception that he must get to enact vengeance on whoever he sees fit.”

You dug your nails into your palms.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Y/N.”

Silence.

“I guess I didn’t expect you to tell me truth first try.” You said a bit more lightly.

“I guess I didn’t expect you to believe me.” He responded flatly.

“Does G-“ You started,

He slammed on the breaks, causing you to lurch forward. Before you could bark at him, he interrupted you.

“No. Gabe doesn’t know. And I don’t plan on tellin’ him. I promise you, you don’t want to tell him either.” There was a threat in there, somewhere.

“Jeez- I wasn’t fuckin’ plannin’ on it,” you exclaimed, “…scared the shit out of me…” you added more quietly.

“Your head ok?” His tone switched.

“Yeah.”

The two of you started driving again. Your head still throbbed, but you got the sense that you’d be taken care of. Robbie helped you into the house and got you settled on the couch, diligently waking you every few hours.

In the weeks, months even, following, you greeted Robbie with more warmth. You spent a lot of your time over with Gabe, and seeing the Ghost Rider sneak off every night was hard to keep to yourself. But in the end, you knew that was for the better.

Maybe getting the shit heat out of you wasn’t all that unlucky.

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