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befuddled-calico-whump · 6 months

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Hand in Hand (part eight)

@whumptober Alt. 12: Broken

cw: broken bones (didn't see that coming did you :) ), death mention, deathwish

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He's on the verge of sleep when he hears noise outside the room; shuffling, muted voices, the click of the lock.

It's time to act.

Dan knows nothing is optimal about the situation; he'll be outnumbered for sure, and even if he wasn't, he'd already be at a significant disadvantage from his physical condition. Surprise is the only tool he has, and once he uses it, he knows he can't hesitate. It's all or nothing. Escape now, or die trying. Better that than this unlife Swift has him trapped in.

He'll wait for them to unlock his restraints, of course. He'll probably even let them get a good distance down the hall, let them sink into the complacency of routine, then he'll make his gambit. If there's only two guards this time, he stands a fighting chance. Hell, even with three, he might just be desperate enough to pull it off. And if he fails... if he fails, he can only hope that she doesn't let Wes suffer for it for long.

Dan closes his eyes, breathing slow and quiet as the door swings open. If he feigns sleep, will they be put more at ease?

"Good afternoon, Mr. Melchior."

His eyes fly open, and he turns his head fast enough that his previously-subdued headache flares back to life, making him wince.

The guards are here, but they aren't alone. Mercury Swift is at their side, smiling down at him.

A sick feeling begins to coil in his stomach, his body sensing a wrongness before his mind can catch up. It's okay, he tells himself. Don't panic. Let her say her piece and save the plan for next time.

But what is her piece? She's never come directly to his room like this, he's always been brought to her. Is she here to make threats? Tell him how she'll be puppeting him at the next meeting?

"Is it already afternoon?" he replies, the words scraping against his throat as they leave it. He doesn't care.

"Ah, forgive me. It must be difficult to tell the time from in here."

"What do you want?" He's too tired to carry the banter for long. He just wants her to spit it out and leave him alone.

To his surprise, she doesn't chastise him for being impolite. "Straight to the point, then." Her smile widens. "I've been doing some thinking these last few days."

Dan's heartbeat is speeding up, thrumming in his chest. He tries to ignore it.

"Since your little... escape stunt, I've realized it's not possible to be too careful."

Breathe. Keep breathing.

Swift turns to one of the guards. "Alright, send him in."

The Riot King leaves, and Dan's chest tightens. Him. Wes? Is she about to force him to watch another fucking demonstration?

But when the door swings back open, it's just another guard, this one holding a heavy metal pipe. His stomach drops.

"Right leg, I think," Swift says to him, then sits back and watches Dan pull uselessly at his chains as the man and the weapon close in on him.

"No..." He needs to think, needs to find a way out of this. "Swift, please," he gulps down air, mind frantic for any words that might sway her. "You've already punished me for the escape, th-this isn't necessary--"

"It isn't a punishment, it's security," she murmurs, sounding disinterested.

"What about the meetings?" he tries. The man reaches the bed. "What will your allies think?"

"You don't need to walk to be useful to me," Swift says. "And is a broken leg really so uncommon?"

The pipe raises, and Dan isn't sure if it's the Riot King holding it that's dragging out the moment, or his own panic. Any plans he has, any hope of making it out, will shatter with the bone. Forget fighting, how will he walk? How will he carry Wes?

"Please!" he cries, jerking on the chains, causing nothing but a sharp clink. "Please, don't do this, I won't do it again, I swear--"

"It's your leg or your friend's," Swift replies. "Make your choice."

The obvious choice is Wes. If Wes can't walk, that's fine. Dan can take care of him. If Dan can't walk, they're both doomed. But even as he opens his mouth, he can't say it.

Spare me. Hurt him instead. Break his leg, make him scream and tell him it's because of me.

He can't. His body is recoiling more from the thought of that than the thought of being hurt.

He can't be responsible for any more of Wes's pain.

He inhales shakily. "No. Don't hurt him."

"That's what I thought."

Dan closes his eyes.

He hears it before he feels it. A brief whoosh as the pipe cuts the air, followed by a sharp sound that's more crunch than crack.

At first, the pain is surreal. A distant, impossible explosion, so bright it hurts his eyes. The air in his lungs freezes, the air in his throat chokes him, and for a moment he can't even scream. His leg, just below his knee, is engulfed in something jagged and inescapable, like someone is taking a cheese grater to the bone.

He barely feels himself being unchained, trying to hold as still as possible to avoid making his leg any worse, and when a hand closes around his wrist, yanking him off the bed, he doesn't even think to fight it.

His now-broken leg is the first thing to hit the ground, and Dan screams, crumpling into a heap. He bangs his head on the bedframe in his haste to take weight off the limb, but he doesn't feel it. Hands catch hold of him from either side, hoisting him back up, and even though he's careful not to let his bad leg touch the ground, the pain is almost enough to steal his consciousness.

He wishes it would.

The guards start walking, dragging him with them, and every little shift is enough to make him cry out. Every bit of strength that remains in him is devoted to keeping the bad leg off the ground, no room left for wondering where they're taking him, wondering what comes next.

Somehow, there's still room for fear. Not the overthinking, frantic planning Dan's used to, but a blind, pain-driven panic.

The movement suddenly stops, and then he's being shoved forward, into colder air, onto rough concrete. The impact with the ground goes right to the shattered bone, sending a sharp wave of nausea through him, and for a long while he can do nothing but lie as still as possible and gasp for air.

He doesn't know how long it takes for his body to get used to the worst of the pain, his consciousness finally pulling back its focus from his leg as it accepts this as his new state.

He's in the cell. Subconsciously, he already knew that, but now that he's actually aware of it, he lifts his head, eyes sweeping the dim room until they land on Wes. The other man is curled up tightly, with his back to Dan. His ribcage is heavily bruised, his skin layered with unhealed welts. Every breath must be agony, but he is still breathing. Still alive. Dan isn't sure if that's a mercy anymore.

He inches towards Wes, pulling on the concrete with his hands, pushing off with his good leg. The movement, however slow, is excruciating, grating against the fragmented bone like the teeth of a predator, but he keeps going, breathing through tightly clenched teeth, not trying to stop the tears from pouring down his face.

This might be it. This might be the last of the time he has with Wes, and he isn't about to waste it. Inch by inch, foot by foot, Dan drags himself across the cell floor, the pain in his leg building to a howl long before he reaches his friend.

But he does reach him. Shuddering, panting, crying, but he's there.

"Wes..?" He reaches out, carefully lays a trembling hand on his shoulder. There's no indication that Wes is conscious, but his bare skin is cold, so Dan shifts again, wincing through the movement, until he's tucked up behind him, chest to back, one arm draped carefully over his side. His leg is throbbing, but Dan holds as still as he can, not wanting to agitate the wounds on Wes's back, the ones he caused.

Fuck, how did things get this bad?

How could his own men hate him enough to let them both suffer like this? How could Swift be so cruel? How could he be stupid enough to let it happen, to let Wes drag himself into it, to not escape when he had the chance? How?

He's truly lost all control. The plan he'd had was a last resort brought on by desperation, but it was still his, it was still something he could've done, even if it was destined to fail.

Now there's nothing he can do. He's whatever Swift wants him to be, and if he isn't, she has no trouble breaking him apart until he's the perfect puzzle piece. He can do nothing---

He could kill Wes.

The one kindness he has the power to grant. He could kill Wes, and ensure Mercury can't drag this out any longer.

He could, but he can't, he knows he can't. He knows Wes will die either way, but he's still not strong enough to at least make it as painless as possible.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"D...an?" the voice is quiet and broken and small.

"I'm here," he says, trying to keep his own voice steady. "I... I can move though, if y-you want."

"Stay. Please."

Dan doesn't need to be told twice. He inches closer still, pressing his face into Wes's neck, wanting to say I'm sorry again, because it's hard to think of anything else when everything hurts and they're both going to die here.

But he doesn't. Instead, Dan holds Wes close.

"It'll be okay," he lies. "We'll be okay."

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast @kixngiggles @shywhumpauthor @whumpsday

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#whumptober2023 #altprompt #broken #oc #fic #death mention tw #broken bones tw #death wish tw #riotkingsau #broken in more than just the physical sense! :D #angst #multiple whumpees #lost hope #captivity whump

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phoenixthemenace · 11 months

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Till Death

Day 30. Lost hope/Death do us part-

"Dix?" Johnny asked sadly. "Roy was here, right? I didn't dream that, did I?"

"Yes he was."

"Then why…why hasn't he come to see me?"

Drat the boy and those eyes. She thought, as her heart twinged.

"I don't know." She said softly. "Do you want him to?"

He nodded, hiding his eyes so she wouldn't see the tears.

"I came back for him."

Joe, who had just slipped in quietly, caught Dixie's eye and nodded.

"Johnny. Do you want to be with Roy?"

He glanced up at both of them.

"For the rest of my life." He whispered.

"Johnny." Joe said, taking Johnny’s hand, surprising him and Dix. "You are the closest thing I have to a son."

Johnny stared at Joe, mouth agape.

Drat the boy and those eyes. Joe thought before continuing.

"If that is what you want, I will help you. Even if I have to drag him in here and sit on him while you two talk"

"Me too." Dixie said, taking Johnny’s other hand. He could see she felt the same way.

His eyes filled again even as he laughed at the thought.

"Thanks." He whispered as he ducked his head.

"What did you say to him when you woke up?" Joe asked.

Johnny smiled.

"I told him to go home, that I'd be okay now and I…" He blushed furiously.

"Love him?" Dixie whispered conspiratorially.

"Yeah." Johnny sighed adorably. His companions rolled their eyes.

"That explains it." Joe said to Dixie.

"Yeah." At Johnny’s inquiring look she explained. "Well, Tiger. All we heard was 'go'."

Johnny looked horrified and tried to get up.

"Easy, easy Johnny." Joe said effortlessly holding Johnny down. "You're in no condition to go anywhere."

"Roy's on duty today." Dixie soothed. "We'll talk to him."

"Knock some sense into that thick skull."

"That might be impossible Joe. It's almost as thick as Johnny’s."

Johnny gave up struggling and spluttered indignantly as Joe and Dixie chuckled.

"Meanwhile, since you're so healthy, we're going to move you into a regular room and let someone who needs it have this one."

"And we're giving you a special roommate." Dixie smiled sweetly.

"Now Dix, Don't spoil the surprise!" Joe laughed.

*****

Roy was devastated.

His Johnny had fought his way back from death's door only to tell him to go. Dixie might think, believe, that he was saying something else but that was too much for Roy to hope for in this grief stricken state

She didn't know about the envelope he'd discovered in the pocket of Johnny’s blue jacket when he washed it. It had two letters to Cap, one a transfer request, the other a letter of resignation.

He'd failed, he'd hurt Johnny that badly, and now he was certain there was nothing to be done.

*****

"Roy." Dixie said kindly. "I want to talk to you."

Roy opened his mouth to protest. He knew what she wanted to say, and couldn't bear to hear it. Fortunately for him, a call came in and he and his temporary partner had to go.

*****

"Roy." Joe said sternly. "I want to talk to you."

Roy closed his eyes and sighed. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? He was saved by a three alarm structure fire.

*****

It took most of an extremely busy shift before they were able to corner Roy.

"I'm telling you Roy, what you heard was not what he said." Joe said with gentle firmness. "Remember, he'd just gone through a terrible ordeal."

"Doc…" Roy tried to begin, but Joe took him by the arm.

"No, Roy. Now we are going to go talk to your partner."

Roy looked to Dixie for help but she just smiled innocently and didn't interfere as Roy was hauled off to the elevators.

*****

Johnny was bored.

Kelly Brackett was about as fun a roommate as a broken leg. His idea of passing the time was reading medical journals and was good to share them with Johnny, but enough was enough. So, partly out of boredom and partly out of a desire to annoy Brackett, he started flirting with every nurse in sight. Soon, he gathered a trio around him and was entertaining them with a story of his heroics when the door swung open and Roy was herded through.

Johnny was startled to see him and slid down under the covers.

"How are you doing, Johnny?" Joe asked as Roy stood to the side, staring awkwardly.

"Oh…I…uh…" He sputtered eloquently, trying not to stare longingly at Roy.

"How about you, Kel?" Joe asked, turning a twinkling eye to his friend. "Enjoying your roommate?"

"I shouldn't say this, but Romeo here was a lot easier to live with when he was in a coma." Kel answered dryly.

They all laughed and Joe plopped down on the end of Brackett's bed, and proceeded to flirt brazenly with everyone in the room, including Kel.

Especially Kel.

Dixie came in a short time later and swept the three nurses away, shooing them back to their duties. Joe stood and started fussing around the head of Kel's bed, taking vitals and shielding Roy and Johnny from view, while they, meanwhile, fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Ro-"

"Joh-"

They started speaking at the same time, and smiled with nervous fondness at each other. Unfortunately, Roy was called away. Johnny sighed, slid further under his covers and curled up, facing away from Joe and Kel.

Joe sighed.

"Take me for a walk." Kel said quietly.

"Sure Kel." Joe knew he wanted to talk.

They slowly made their way down the hall, Kel trying not to shuffle, Joe trying not to notice.

"Joe, what is going on between those two?"

"What do you mean?" Joe asked, surprised that Kel would have guessed.

"They've been upset with each other for a while now. At first I thought it was about the virus, but now I'm thinking it's got to be that nurse from the maternity ward that they were fighting over recently."

"I don't know Kel, I don't think those two would let a woman come between them."

"You may be right Joe. But did you see how Johnny reacted to Roy? Like he was guilty?"

They were back to the room now.

"Okay Kel. I'll talk to them, just don't you say anything to Johnny. You know how he is, it's apt to get really uncomfortable if you do."

"Sure Joe." Kel said tiredly. He climbed back into his bed and dropped off to sleep almost at once. Joe turned to Johnny who was still curled on his side, but Joe could see he wasn't asleep.

"Johnny." Joe said softly as he put his hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to turn over onto his back. There were tears on his cheeks.

"Thanks Doc." He whispered. "For everything."

"Don't give up hope."

Johnny tried to smile.

"I mean, for all the help you've given me over the years. My aunt and I wouldn't have survived without you and Dix."

Joe blushed and focused on the floor for a few minutes. Finally composed, he ruffled Johnny’s hair and smiled down at him. Johnny felt warmed by it and maybe hoping wasn't so hard after all.

"Don't give up hope." Joe repeated and left Johnny to his nap.

*****

That day set an unfortunate precedent of missed opportunities for the two broken hearted men to talk. As the days passed without seeing or speaking to Roy, Johnny began to withdraw, regretting not following his Auntie. Roy, too, was losing hope despite Joe and Dixie's encouragement.

Finally, the day arrived for Johnny to be discharged from Rampart. Johnny looked up hopefully when his door opened that morning, but it was Dixie and Cap. Johnny tried valiantly not to let his face fall.

"Hey there Tiger." Dixie's smoky voice was soft and sad. "Ready to go?"

Johnny just nodded and accepted the bag of clothes his captain held out to him.

"Thanks, Cap."

"No problem, Pal. We'll wait out here while you change, then I'll drive you home."

Out in the hall, Hank turned serious eyes to Dixie's worried ones.

"Is he okay to go to his apartment alone? Should I take him home with me?"

Dixie sighed.

"He refused me and Joe when we offered. I think we're just going to have to let him go."

"I wish I'd been paying closer attention that day."

"I know. I think we all wish we had been too." She replied, patting his arm.

Johnny stepped out into the hall then. His clothes were loose on him and his eyes were tired and sad. He tolerated Dixie's fussing, but was grateful when Hank finally led him to his car.

They drove in silence for several blocks before Johnny spoke.

"Thanks Cap."

"No problem, John."

"I mean…" Johnny shrugged. "Just for everything."

Hank glanced over at Johnny.

Drat the boy and those eyes. He thought as he slowed for traffic. They were pleading for something.

"Hey Pal?" Hank began slowly. "What happened between you and Roy?"

Johnny stared at his hands folded in his lap for a long time, messy hair tumbling over his forehead.

"You know me Cap." He finally shrugged with a sigh. "I'm always messing things up."

Hank reached over and put his hand on the nape of Johnny’s neck.

"No Son. You're not." He said with gentle firmness. "You're one of the best men I know. Now don't let me hear you saying that about yourself again."

Johnny smiled at that, and they were at his apartment.

"Just drop me off here. The lot is full, you'll never find a spot."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Johnny paused before climbing out of the car. "Thanks again Cap. You know, for everything."

"You're welcome, John."

Johnny waved as his captain drove reluctantly away, and slowly climbed the stairs, his throat slowly tightening and eyes stinging. With a heavy heart he opened the door to his cold, dark apartment.

He half hoped Roy would be there, waiting to surprise him. But he wasn't and Johnny was overcome with exhaustion. His bedroom was too far away so he trudged to his couch.

Just when he thought his heart couldn't break any further, it did.

But there, on his coffee table was an envelope with his name written in a dear, familiar hand. With hopeful terror he snapped it up and opened it. Something metal clanged out and bounced across the table and onto the floor. He ignored it to devour the short note.

John-

Please come home.

-Roy

*****

"Hey Cap," Roy had asked earlier. "I'm supposed to pick Johnny up after we're off today and take him to his apartment. Could you-"

The klaxons sounded, cutting him off and calling the squad out to meet the coast guard. Roy looked anxiously at Hank as he handed over the call slip. He nodded to Roy, answering the unasked question.

Now, hours later, he wearily climbed the stairs to his home, hope buzzing around the edge of his senses along with the tiredness. He hoped Johnny would be there, waiting for him. But no one waited behind the door.

Just when he thought he couldn't hurt any more, he did.

Too tired to go to bed he flipped on the TV and flopped onto his couch. A soap opera was on and Roy blearily watched it, trying to figure out the convoluted plot that seemed about to conclude with a wedding. Or start. He didn't really understand these things.

But he was too exhausted to find something else.

His thoughts drifted to Johnny. He had been glad that he'd left the note for him to find when they got to Johnny's apartment. But now without him here at home, Roy mused that it was probably best he had not been the one to drive him this morning.

He also thought about resigning himself, and going far away. But he knew the pain would just follow him. Sighing, he struggled to his feet and went into the kitchen for a glass of water and ended up staring, sightless, out the window for an unknown amount of time, the empty part of his soul echoing with heartache.

*****

Johnny crawled into the bed when he finally arrived home, intending to only take a quick nap. But the events of the morning catching up to him, and was sound asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow

He didn't know how long he slept but his dreams took on a weirdly soap opera quality, and he realized that he was awake, listening to the sounds of the tv in the living room. He waited until he heard the kitchen faucet running before deciding to get up.

*****

Roy thought he'd finally lost his mind when arms wrapped around him and a warm body pressed against is back. He felt a cheek rest against his neck and warm breath breeze past his ear.

"I love you, Roy. That's what I was trying to tell you. To go home and get some rest. That I was going to be okay and I love you. I love you."

Roy held onto the sink when he felt his knees go weak.

"Johnny." He whispered. "I…I…"

There was so much to say that he couldn't say any of it. He choked on a sob or two. In the background, the drama on TV was reaching its crescendo as the characters were reciting their vows.

"Roy, I love you, and I'm yours, I want to be yours." He paused, listening for a moment before laughing softly and echoing what he'd heard. "Till death do us part."

Roy suddenly shrugged him off. Johnny stumbled backward as Roy spun around, his eyes blazing.

"No."

End

#angstpril2023 #day30 #lost hope #death do us part #emergency!#fic

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