Aran: No, I don’t. You two call me that. But anyway, if Atsumu sets to Gin, we’re both on the same side, and it’ll look like it’s going to me again.
Atsumu: I can do that. Only kidding by the way, I am Atsumu.
Aran:
Aran: Why do I associate with you two.
Hinata: We have to get along! If the four of us don’t figure out how to work together, the Vice Principal will throw us in detention for forever! Or worse, Daichi-san and Suga-san won’t let us play volleyball!
Tsukki, to Yamaguchi: He has got to sort out his priorities.
Coach Yamiji: Now, Bokuto, stand here and repeat this four times. I am a volleyball player, not a baboon brandishing a ball.
Bokuto, in emo mode: I am a volleyball player, not a baboon brandishing a ball.
Bokuto: *looking confused*
Bokuto: Aghaaaaaashi, what does brandish mean?
Yamaguchi: Why are Hinata and Kageyama sprinting to the gym?
Tsukishima: Because that’s what they do. When confused, race to the court. They’re volleyball idiots.
Karasuno first years, in their third year:
Tsukishima, exasperated: Hinata, how could I have suffered three years of being on the same team as you and still think short people can’t fight on the court?
Hinata:
Hinata, beaming: Tsukki, did you just give me a COMPLIMENT?!
Tsukki, walking away: No.
Hinata: You did! Tsukki! I knew you cared!
Tsukki: You are delusional.
Yaku, after yelling at Lev: Do you understand?
Lev: Yes.
Yaku: Yes, senpai.
Lev, confused: There’s no need to call me senpai just because I’m so much taller than you, Yaku-san.
Yaku:
Lev:
Kuroo: Well, that’s it then. Guess we need to find ourselves a new freakishly tall middle blocker. Because Yaku is going to murder him.
Kenma, sighing: Lev is an idiot.
Inarizaki second years after a loud Miya twin fight got them kicked out of the stadium:
Gin: If you make us go through this again, I swear, I will-
Atsumu, the captain: What, vice-captain? Bench us?
Osamu: Ban us from practice?
Gin: No. But I will call Kita-san.
Miyas:
Atsumu, nervously: You wouldn’t.
Gin: I would.
Kosaku: He would.
Suna, recording the whole thing: Ohhhhhhhhhh, you two are in deep shit.
Semi, after ranting about Shirabu: Well, I hate it! I hate him, but I don’t, and I hate that I don’t! I feel like I’m going insane!
Tendou: Ha! Conflicting feelings. I’ve been there. Don’t worry about it! You’re just as sane as I am.
Semi:
Semi: Great. Thanks.
Yamagata: Okay Tendou, I don’t think you understand just how absolutely NOT reassuring that was.
Tendou: You all just don’t appreciate my wisdom and insight! Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn’t mean everyone has.
Iwaizumi, done with Oikawa: Oh my God Oikawa! What is wrong with you? Is there anything but volleyballs bouncing in that empty head of yours???
Oikawa, winking suggestively: Well, Iwa-Chan, I could make your head just as empty as mine. Just tell me when and where.
Iwaizumi, watching Oikawa strut away: *iwaizumi.exe has stopped working*
Matsukawa, dying of laughter with Hanamaki: You know what, I agree with you about our dear captain on so many counts, but you can’t deny: he’s got style.
Shiratorizawa third years attempting to help Tendou flirt with Ushijima:
Reon: Well, we can start simple. Try telling him a joke? You’re good at that.
Semi: Pffft, Wakatoshi wouldn’t recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him, jump serving volleyballs at his face.
Soooo@ask-spiderpool’s mod’s been posting fic lately and this one in particular grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and shook me violently until I broke all my usual art MO’s and drew an angsty styelized Peter Parker’s no good very bad emotional crisis metaphor with the most dramatic lighting I’ve done in … maybe years?
Shout out to me switching to pro-create for this one and mimicking sci’s style LESS
‘Trick or treat!’ 'Treat or DEATH’ 'I demand chocolates’
Just your average couple of kids trick or treating! ;) don’t worry, they’re not as scary as they look
Image ID and the old doodle this is technically a redraw of below the cut!
[ID: A halloween themed illustration of the Under tale characters Frisk, Chara, and Flowey.
Main Image: The background is dark and on the top left is the words ‘Trick or treat!’ in orange blocky capitals. There is Chara’s signature smiley face in the same font below.
Frisk is on the lower centre. They are wearing a vampire costume with fake fangs and a red cape. Frisk is holding up an orange, pumpkin shaped container to the camera. Wrapped around the pumpkin is a few of Flowey’s vines.
Flowey is to the left of Frisk. His face is upsidown and he was put on a creepy face. His eyes are blacked out and dripping black goo. His smile is similarly goopy. he is wrapped around Frisk however, only a few vines are visible.
Chara is floating bove both Flowey and Frisk. They have their normal striped jumper on. Their left hand in holding onto Frisk’s head. The other is behind Flowey’s head and is loosly holding a red magic knife. Chara’s eyes and mouth are black and goopy like they are in jump scare at the end of Undertale. They smiling and their face and hands are the only parts that are well lit.
All three characters are lit with bright warm lights coming from the house they are trick or treating. There rest of their bodies melt into the dark background. Frisk is the most well lit and Chara is primarily in shadow.
Bonus Image: A childish sketch of a similar scene. The lineart is rough and it is not coloured. Above the doodle are the words ‘F: trick or treat!, F/A: Treat or Death!, C: I demand candy!’. The date of the drawing is written below to the left ‘Oct 2016′.
To the left of the image is a doodle of a person with short hair looking down at a child with long hair who is drawing. the shorted haired person has a speech bubble reading ‘Oh i am so stealing that’.
The dead had walked for six months now. In that time, Arthur had wryly been thankful for yet another reason that he and Sadie were here in Nuevo Paraiso. After all, where the only people they had killed were a handful of Del Lobos who’d come at them. Being back in more northerly places with much bloodier memories, and possibly seeing the faces of people whom he’d been the death of once already, and having to put them down again, might well have been too much.
It wasn’t exactly the peaceful life he’d long envisioned, but at least the fight was now for something good, something clear and fine. They fought to protect the living and to give the dead rest again, and he could accept that. He was certainly helping people by this, and that helped balance his very lopsided scales somewhat.
And for today, he and Sadie were out hunting. Not for the undead, though their eyes and ears were keen for that, but for food. The people of Chuparosa, thankfully safe within their gated adobe walls, always needed feeding, and nobody was fool enough to go out alone unless they wanted to become undead.
Bea and Mattie were safe back home, under Karen’s watchful eye. Some said that for both parents of young children to go out together was foolishness, giving Sadie a glance that invited her to stay home as they thought a woman clearly ought but both he and Sadie knew there was nobody else either of them would trust more in the danger of the desert and the risen dead than each other. Going out together meant they both came back alive. That was how it had long been between them, and how it was, and that was that.
“I swear,” he said, tracking a herd of goats, their shaggy coats indicating they’d run wild for a while now, “if I ever find out there’s some bastard who started all this–”
“Nobody knows,” Sadie pointed out. “Some fool touching some cursed artifact, or making dark deals with the Devil, or if it’s supposedly just God’s judgment like the preachers keep ranting, who the hell knows? Until we know that, ain’t no fixing this. All I know is we’re alive, and I aim to keep it so.”
“That’s the way of it, just about,” he acknowledged, and suddenly something in the middle of the goats caught his eye as the goats scattered, bleating and screaming. A wolf? Quickly snapping to it instead, Sadie beat him to the shot, and the thing dropped in its tracks.
Heading up to it, he could only stare at it. “Jesus, that thing looks like a wolf humped a boar and a porcupine.” The ridged back and pointed snout, the quills, and the grey-green skin and eyes that were an unsettling red even in death, told him that like much these days, this was no natural thing. He’d heard people talking about these beasts. Chupacabra, they called them. The goat-sucker. The sharp, bloody teeth and the goat it had dropped with one bite certainly made some eloquent argument for that name.
He sighed, reaching for it to skin it. The goat they could use, for certain. They couldn’t eat the meat of the chupacabra, because it would make them sick, but the pelt and claws and the like would fetch good money as a curiosity from someone. There had been some Harvard or Yale–maybe Princeton–professor down here making noises about wanting to collect specimens. If he hadn’t gotten eaten yet, maybe he and Sadie could sell it to him. He glanced over at her, unable to resist a slight smile. “You ever miss them days when the strangest thing that happened to us was outrunning Pinkertons?”
She laughed, patting him on the shoulder, before crouching to skin and butcher the goat. “Sure. Though at least the shamblers are dumb. That’s a comfort.”
“It’s just new experience, Commander.” The Marshal chides, shooing their hands away from his wheelchair. “I’ll be out in four weeks. How does it fit?”
“…you look good,” the Commander says, abashed. “Well-rested. I’m glad you’re on the mend.”
Trahearne laughs, “You don’t need to flatter me, old friend. I know I got no rest; I spent the night convincing Taimi to detach the rocket launchers.”
– • – • –
Trahearne lives AU? Trahearne lives AU! Furthermore, the urge to draw a corrupted yet healed Trahearne was too good to pass on. They get him out of Maguuma due to Kaonn’s bargain with the dragon, and it was largely thanks to Taimi’s tinkering to create a comfortable wheelchair that Trahearne (known workaholic) rested long enough to let his legs recover, properly. The cats helped by sleeping in his lap.
A lazy doodle, to add. The Sylvari-proof cast worked very well:
“It’s just new experience, Commander.” The Marshal chides, shooing their hands away from his wheelchair. “I’ll be out in four weeks. How does it fit?”
“…you look good,” the Commander says, abashed. “Well-rested. I’m glad you’re on the mend.”
Trahearne laughs, “You don’t need to flatter me, old friend. I know I got no rest; I spent the night convincing Taimi to detach the rocket launchers.”
– • – • –
Trahearne lives AU? Trahearne lives AU! Furthermore, the urge to draw a corrupted yet healed Trahearne was too good to pass on. They get him out of Maguuma due to Kaonn’s bargain with the dragon, and it was largely thanks to Taimi’s tinkering to create a comfortable wheelchair that Trahearne (known workaholic) rested long enough to let his legs recover, properly. The cats helped by sleeping in his lap.
A lazy doodle, to add. The Sylvari-proof cast worked very well:
Given Bakugou-kun’s description as a “juvenile delinquent” (Horikoshi sensei uses the term 不良少年, or furyou shounen, meaning juvenile delinquent boy), it’s expected that he wouldn’t conform to standard. So obviously, it’s not possible to find Bakugou-kun wearing a tie properly…………….
What is up with this perfectly tied nonsense right here?!
Bakugou-kun, I thought I knew you!!! THE LIES! THE BETRAYAL!!!
But, it’s probably just a fluke. You didn’t mean it, right Horikoshi-sensei?
WTF?!WHY?!!!Horikoshi-sensei?!
Yep. Contrary to expectations, Bakugou-kun wearing a tie correctly only ranks at Ultra Rare status: difficult to find, but not impossible.
So, what’s rarer than a tie-wearing Bakugou-kun? Go Beyond, Plus Ultra Rare Bakugou!
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
In fact, it’s even harder to find Bakugou-kun wearing a tie improperly. Given proto-Bakugou’s loose tie design, I would have expected that to be the likelier delinquent-esque tie option. But I’ve only seen Horikoshi-sensei draw him like this once:
(Horikoshi-sensei’s one year celebration illustration. This is still fairly early in the publication.)
On top of that, Bakugou-kun consistently wears his uniform tie-less and with at least one button undone on his shirt collar. His pants are always slung low on his hips and legs bunching up at his feet (except when he had to wear jeans for Best Jeanist). You can even see panels where Horikoshi-sensei drew in the rips at the hems near the heel where they drag on the ground.
So why the inconsistency, Horikoshi-sensei? I see you over there, stop pretending you didn’t notice. I know you’re paying attention.
Horikoshi-sensei gave proto-Bakugou a loosened tie, so what is the reasoning for taking Bakugou-kun’s tie away?
Some No-Tie Theories
Fan Theory #1:HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW
//Like Midoriya-kun, Bakugou-kun came from a middle school with gakuran uniforms. They never learned how to tie them. Midoriya-kun messes up his tie, while Bakugou-kun doesn’t even bother to try.//
I actually think this is the least likely reason. Bakugou-kun was designed to be a naturally talented genius. I think this applies to anything he wants to do. If he does something, it’s always perfectly done.
Bakugou-kun can (and does if you look above) tie it perfectly when necessary.
CONCLUSION: If Bakugou-kun doesn’t do something, it’s completely out of personal preference or because he doesn’t see a reason to.
Fan Theory #2:REBELLIOUS NATURE
//Bakugou-kun is a delinquent and maintains that image because he thinks it looks cool. Or maybe he is rebelling against fashion designer parents. Either way, because of his family background he knows how to tie a tie, but wants to be a rebel.//
I’d give partial points for this one. I’m pretty sure he wears his pants loose at least partially because he thinks it looks cool. However, Bakugou-kun’s parents were noted to be designers and not specifically fashion designers.
Despite appearances, this is the kid that sleeps at 8:30pm, doesn’t break school rules, and yells at his friends for smoking.
He zips up the collar on his gym track suit all the way. Both the summer and winter versions get the same treatment. He doesn’t feel the need to “make a statement” by wearing his track uniform incorrectly. Outside of class, he can and does sometimes wear his track jacket unzipped, but during class he always wears it properly.
So then why does Bakugou-kun refuse to wear the band T-shirt and Christmas party Santa outfit? Because he isn’t cooperative. In Ultra Analysis, his Cooperativeness Stat was the lowest rank: E.
CONCLUSION: Bakugou-kun may be non-conformist and uncooperative, but he isn’t a rebel.
Fan Theory #3:TRAUMA/PTSD
//This is one of the more popular theories. Between Dabi grabbing his neck, the Sludge Villain and being restrained at the School Festival, our boy has been through the wringer. As a result, he just doesn’t like stuff around his neck because it gives him anxiety.//
The Western Fandom is definitely concerned about the mental health of the kids. But I don’t actually think this is the reason. Not that I don’t think they all need some therapy and self care, especially right now, but there just isn’t evidence for this specific trauma in Bakugou-kun.
He wears scarves and even turtle necks without a problem.
On top of that, Bakugou-kun ALSO unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and gakuran in middle school; even from before the Sludge Villain incident. There isn’t any evidence Bakugou-kun changed his dressing habits due to trauma. He wore a scarf to the entrance exam for UA, too.
CONCLUSION: Bakugou-kun has ALWAYS worn his shirts with the top button unbuttoned.
These 3 theories are inadequate, too. Even if they did explain the reasons Bakugou-kun doesn’t wear a uniform tie, they don’t factor in the reasoning for why he DOES wear his other ties properly sometimes.
HC#1: Bakugou-kun’s preference
Bakugou-kun doesn’t seem to care about his image and how “extras” see him. Even during the press interviews after his hero debut, he wore the same style of open collar look. He’s not shy about being nude or taking his shirt off.
But what he hates is being uncomfortable.
He is “explosively brawny”. Just look at how thick Bakugou-kun’s neck is when compared to Midoriya-kun’s. It isn’t just that Midoriya-kun is supposed to be scrawny, but also that Bakugou-kun has a thicker than average neck.
Bakugou-kun doesn’t like to button up his shirts all the way because it’s uncomfortable. It’s reasonable that he zips his track suit and everything else up because those are looser at the neck or made of stretchier materials.
As for why he doesn’t wear the uniform tie at all… Don’t forget Bakugou-kun is a perfectionist and a bit of a neat freak.
He always tucks his shirt in. For the band performance he wore a collared black dress shirt. From what we saw of his room, it’s minimalist and clean. I don’t see him wanting to look like a slob.
A sloppy loose tie would probably irritate him more than just not wearing it (which is even funnier when you think about Midoriya-kun’s chonk tie. It probably makes him want to strangle Midoriya-kun, or maybe just tie it himself…)
Bakugou-kun has difficulties compromising when it comes to his high standards. So if he has to wear it, it’s going to be either 0% or 100%.
HC#2:Explosiveness
Why draw Bakugou-kun with either 0% tie or 100% tie? If Horikoshi-sensei is going for a delinquent image, wouldn’t the 50% tie option make more sense?
Taking a look again at Bakugou-kun’s profile page, Horikoshi-sensei describes him to be explosive in every way. That includes his whole body being “explosively brawny”, but also adds a note that he looks slender in clothes.
Horikoshi-sensei put an effort to make every element of Bakugou-kun’s character in some state of either fully compressed or explosive.
His slimming clothes, general appearance and even his speech patterns are highly compressed (blunt/terse) and loud. The extremes of his attitude are compressed too; if Bakugou-kun is not loudly raging, then he’s quietly observing.
This contrast is key to his character. You can’t explode if you aren’t compressed first. It’s supposed to be shocking to see how brawny he actually is under his slenderizing clothes. And I always feel shocked whenever I see this kid compressed into a tie.
HC#3: Deku & Kacchan
These two are set apart from the class by design and very much on purpose. Horikoshi-sensei designed them to be at opposite ends of the same spectrum.
If Bakugou-kun has muscular arms, then Midoriya-kun needs muscular legs. If Midoriya-kun buttons up his shirt all the way to the collar, then Bakugou-kun’s collar has to be loose. Their designs reflect their connection.
So if Midoriya-kun has a poorly tied tie, the opposite of that is either non-existant or perfectly tied. If it’s perfectly tied, he’d just blend in with the class.
The no-tie option just makes more sense.
Plus Ultra Rare Bakugou
Horikoshi-sensei only ever draws Bakugou-kun with a tie in specific scenarios. Costume events that require the neck tie as part of the costume or “fancy” events where everyone is in formal wear. And even in those, Bakugou-kun manages to not wear his tie 90% of the time.
So, I just imagine that when Horikoshi-sensei makes Bakugou-kun wear his tie, he’s super grumpy! Just look at his face in every illustration he’s wearing a tie in. He’s probably hot, uncomfortable, and really not enjoying himself at all.
Ultimately, the “Plus Ultra Rare Bakugou” is a Bakugou-kun who wears the tie and SMILES while doing it.
(Yes, I know that’s NOT actually a tie. Shut up Bakugou-kun. You’re only smirking in this one because you won the Popularity Poll for the 5th time in a row…)
(Well that’s random, you say? Welcome to my blog. Considering the stuff going down on canon, I figured I should give fans, and myself, a break from angst to talk about something silly.
Please note that this applies only to the manga. I’ve found that the anime isn’t quite so strict about how Bakugou-kun looks.
Regarding the headcanons, I just want to clarify that everyone is free to think whatever they like. I enjoy all headcanons and support your right to have them.
I wrote this a while ago and then debated posting it because it’s such a huge meta about… Bakugou-kun’s tie. I had regrets. But now it’s become my new years post. Regrets were for 2020, it’s already 2021!
Demons out, fortune in!!! I know it’s not setsubun for another month, but 2020 was such a demon.
Sprawled out on the floor of their cell, the hero is still reeling from a swift punch to the gut when the door is kicked open and all hell breaks loose. By the time they catch their breath and gather enough strength to lift their head, all of their captors are down for the count. Brows furrowed in confusion, the hero blinks away their blurry vision… only to be greeted by the sight of the villain standing before them in all of their nefarious glory.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the villain drawls, crouching down to their level. The hero scrambles away, their bound hands shielding their bruised face in an instinctual defensive position.
The villain rolls their eyes. “Oh please, I’m not going to hurt you. You’ve already been roughened up enough for my tastes.”
The hero frowns, incredulous, and flinches when their adversary gets too close. “You’re not?”
“No, and if you don’t believe me, you can wait for someone else to come and find you like this.”
The hero lowers their arms, their tensed shoulders relaxing minutely. “You’re… rescuing me?”
The villain sniffs. “Hardly. If anything, I’m salvaging my reputation. It would ruin my image if my nemesis were bested by such amateurs. Now, don’t struggle.”
Without saying anything further, the villain scoops them up, one arm hooked under their knees and the other curled around their back. The hero gasps in surprise, the room spinning in a dizzy blur. They might have a concussion.
Near boneless in the villain’s hold, the hero looks up at them as they’re carried out of the cell. “You’re gonna let me go?”
The villain hums. “For a price.”
The hero’s eyes narrow, not liking where this is going. “You’re asking for a ransom?”
“Have to pay the bills somehow, sweetheart.” The villain smirks down at them, and the hero bristles.
Glaring fiercely, they squirm in upset, trying to break free from their hold. The villain tightens their grip, jostling them a bit, and the hero winces in pain as the movement agitates their numerous injuries. Still, they continue to glower at their unwanted savior.
The villain huffs. “Oh, don’t look so cross. The goons who kidnapped you were the ones who published the demands. I’m just claiming them as my own.”
In the hero’s opinion, the villain looks entirely too pleased with their scheme. Who would pay the ransom? The city? But the public needs the money! The hero claws at their enemy’s shirt, their fingers numb from their wrists being tied too tight with electrical cord. “You, you can’t.”
“I can. It’s not like anyone can stop me, least of all you. You’re quite helpless right now, if you haven’t realized,” the villain replies smoothly, cool eyes raking over their injured frame.
The hero pouts—unintentionally, of course. They’re just in so much pain, so weak from the countless beatings, and now innocent people are going to suffer for their ineptitude. They sniffle a bit and wipe their nose with their forearm.
The villain meets their gaze with an unreadable expression, and then, with a heavy sigh, concedes, “I can, but I might not. After all, I could be persuaded to release you, for free, as long as you make it clear to your adoring fans that I was the one who caught you. You play the part of the hapless victim so well, I’m sure they’ll believe you.”
The hero brightens a little.
The villain’s lips curl into a slow smile. “Would you like that, darling?”
The hero gives a weak nod, their eyes so heavy.
The villain’s smile turns into a smirk. “Use your words, dear. Say please.”
The hero glares for a second before remembering how utterly exhausted they are. They swallow their pride, and, in a low voice, whisper, “Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” the villain chuckles, and the hero groans, eyes falling shut as they relax into the villain’s hold, forehead resting on their enemy’s shoulder. “Now, let’s get you to a hospital.”
Not yet! I’m still in a bit of an art-block and also lacking the confidence tbh… I will definitely write about it here/twitter if I do! (But I should point out i wont take fanart/lookalike-commissions if so. ;( Franchise OCs are ok though!)
On a different note, I really want to draw some MitchScorpPam stuff as well in future…
For the Prideshippers. Mokuba wants to get a tattoo and drags his big brother along to hold his hand. Little does Kaiba know that the handsome tattoo artist will get under his skin instead.
Prompt:Coughing up a lung (pneumothorax, exotic illness, “definitely just a cold”)
Fandom:Overwatch
Characters:Gabriel Reyes (Reaper) and Jack Morrison (Soldier: 76)
Rating:T
Words:828
Notes:Requested by Anonymous! Hope you see this and enjoy! Mild Language warning
Brilliant light pierced through Gabe’s skull when someone thumbed his eye open. Voices spoke above his head, but he couldn’t make sense of them. Alarms rang somewhere in the distance, or maybe they were close at hand. His body didn’t seem able to distinguish the two. It took him longer than it should have to realize that he couldn’t understand the language washing over him. Panic rippled through his body as he tried to make the scattered pieces fit together.
Consciousness came in waves. Flashes of light, urgent voices, and pain. Gabe opened his mouth to tell the hand running over his stomach to fuck off, but pain shot through his ribs when he drew a breath. Something heavy sat on his chest, compressing it. He couldn’t get enough air despite his desperate gasp. Agony radiated through his left shoulder, sharp and sudden.
I’m having a heart attack, Gabe recognized with a macabre amusement. I’m dying.
The thought was chased by annoyance that the nanites that SEP had pumped Gabe full of wouldn’t prevent such a mundane death. He coughed and couldn’t draw enough oxygen to keep the spots from his vision. He gagged on the lack of air, clawing at his throat. A sidearm cocked beside his head made Gabe shy away. The sound was loud enough to rupture an eardrum, as were the screams that followed. Then, a familiar voice swam through the cacophony. “Do something, or I swear you’re next.”
Jack, Gabe recognized the voice with a start and pieces began to snap back together. They’d been on a mission—he couldn’t summon the memory, only that it was top secret. He’d caught something he thought was just a run of the mill cold, what, two days ago? Three? The timeline dissolved in fever delirium. Heavily accented, broken English washed over Gabe without comprehension, but he clung to Jack’s unwavering voice. “If he dies, you die. Do you understand?”
Gabe never heard an answer, something sharp and hot sent a wave of agony through his chest. It felt like his lung was being suctioned through a tiny hole in his ribs. HIs breathing had been shallow before, now it was impossible. Darkness swallowed the world.
When Gabe opened his eyes again, his first thought was that the afterlife looked a lot like a shoddy hut with the sound of heavy, tropical rain pounding against the thatched roof. A second blink cleared the blurriness to reveal Jack leaning against a wall, gun resting across one thigh. When Gabe painfully cleared his throat, the blond sat bolt upright and trained his weapon on the doorway.
“Jack?” Gabe’s voice came out as a dry croak.
Turning, Jack laid the gun on the mat beside him and held a bottle of something to Gabe’s mouth. Water splashed into Gabe’s throat and ran down the sides of his face to dampen the pillow. Jack brushed a hand over Gabe’s forehead and sighed. “The fever broke. About damn time.”
“What happened,” Gabe asked, trying to push into a sitting position. The room spun, then steadied. He pressed a hand against a prick of pain in his chest that hadn’t been there before. Memories came back. “We were in a hospital. You blew our cover.”
“You were dying,” Jack answered, shaking his head like he could push the memory to the corners of his mind. “And it was a clinic not a hospital. Barely more than a witch doctor really.”
As Gabe digested the words, the memory of a gunshot echoed in his mind. He glanced at the weapon that Jack tucked back into the holster against the left side of his ribcage. Jack blew out a breath and shook his head. “Your little cold turned into an infection that nearly killed you, probably would have if not for the chemicals they pumped us full of. It managed to collapse your lung.” The man paused, then sighed. “I think, anyway. They didn’t speak much English.”
Despite the words, giddy nervousness washed through Gabe. He’d come that close to death and beaten it again. A laughter bubbled through his lips, building into a full laugh that sent pain spiking through his side. He coughed and tried to stop the amusement. Jack glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “Probably a bad idea. I’m not sure how long that’ll take to heal, but at least another day or two.”
“Yeah,” Gabe answered, making his breath shallower so as not to put any more pressure on the injury. He tipped his head to watch Jack, wondering at the impassive blue eyes. “Thanks.”
Jack nodded, a short, sharp movement of his neck. “You should rest, we’ll have to move soon.”
Gabe watched Jack stand, head nearly brushing the top of their shelter and move toward the door. He considered the emotional cost of the past few days, but didn’t ask about it as Jack stepped into the rain. There would be time for that soon enough.
