grinded ([personal profile] grinded) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2016-09-18 12:31 pm

( nursed back to health shipping meme. )

Nursed Back to Health Shipping Meme

  • Comment with your character, preferences, preferred role, and any information you'd like to include.
  • Your character has either been injured/sick and had to be taken in (possibly against their will) or has been the one to help somebody like the former. Through the mending process, the two characters in a thread have fallen in love - or at least grown closer and more affectionate.
  • Reply to others.
  • Thread.
spideyguy: (44)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-09-19 12:48 am (UTC)(link)
The fact that Matt, bleeding on a rooftop, is not an uncommon sight for Peter should really tell him something about his life. Honestly, Peter does a sweep of the buildings on the edge between the part of midtown that he covers and Hell's Kitchen before he heads back and, five nights out of seven, the Devil is recouping on one of them.

Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. And sometimes he's totally fine, just needs a lift home - but sometimes it's worse than that, and tonight is one of those nights. Tonight is really one of those nights, because when Peter found him, Matt was barely even breathing. Seriously, if Peter hadn't been able to hear the shallow breaths Matt was taking with his super duper superhuman hearing, he would have started CPR and probably made everything worse by breaking a rib.

So Peter does what he can, which is web Matt to his back, web his mask into place, and swing home to his shitty little apartment. He'd take Matt back to his own apartment if he was conscious, but since he isn't, Peter has no way of knowing where in Hell's Kitchen is safe at the moment. Better to clear out entirely, and hopefully get Matt to wake up.

Peter bunches towels underneath Matt and sets him up on his bed before he cuts away the webbing and starts taking stock of the vigilantes' injuries. There's a lot of blood, and Peter's trying his best to be careful as he searches for the source of the profuse bleeding.

"You better not die in my bed. Seriously, you couldn't call me?" Peter mutters to himself, grabbing the first aide kit from his bookshelf and rummaging around. Webbing is better than gauze, but he still needs to suture the wound first. Matt's wounds, unlike Peter's aren't going to close themselves.
takesabeating: devil (unlucky weekends have left me for dead)

[personal profile] takesabeating 2016-09-19 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
It just so happens that Peter runs across Matt recovering on rooftops so often because rooftops are a hell of a lot safer than alleys when you need to take a minute to assess your injuries and maybe quietly bleed a little bit before going home. Not that he doesn't appreciate the offers of help. He's still getting used to the idea of having allies, but it's nice to know there's someone he can actually ask for help who won't lecture him on what an idiot he is.

Mostly because they're all idiots to varying degrees, risking their lives in idiotic ways for the city they love.

This time, however, is a little different. Matt didn't come to the roof to rest so much as he happened to embark on a fight that spanned blocks of buildings and ended on top of this particular one. Melvin's going to have a fit over the repairs his suit will need -- the kevlar-enhanced portions did the job, but there are places where a blade (okay maybe more than one) and even a couple of bullets tore through the supple material. Most of the blood is coming from two injuries: where a long blade slipped in at his waist just below the belt, slicing at a downward angle halfway down his thigh, and where a bullet left a deep grazing wound across his calf. The rest is bruising from the places where the impact of various blows got through the armor, swelling in his left shoulder from where it was wrenched in an unpleasant direction, and the inevitable split lip and scraped up chin.

He's taken worse, but then again he nearly died that time, so it probably wouldn't be much comfort to know that.

The damage and blood loss are bad enough, though, that Peter's well along in his work before Matt finally comes to. There's a soft groan as pain and then other stimuli seep into his consciousness. And then self-defense instincts kick in, and one hand shoots out to grab the nearest part of Peter's body with a bruising grip.
spideyguy: (46)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-09-19 07:59 am (UTC)(link)
Hey, you don't have to tell him twice. He's not judging; in fact, there was one memorable time when Peter dropped onto a roof of his own accord, only to find Matt already taking up residence. He keeps meaning to mention his warehouse, with the mattress he fished out of a dumpster (still good, they only threw it out because it was old, no bugs or anything) and the emergency medical supplies. It's also got the makeshift stuff he uses to mix his web fluid, but he trusts Matt enough not to touch it (if he does, Peter will have a hell of a time unsticking him).

Melvin's going to have an even worse fit if Peter ends up ripping the suit up to get at the wounds, which he very well might have to, at this point. As an aside, Peter should ask Matt for the hookup with the cool suit material - but then again, that involves a hell of a lot of math for his aerodynamics and also, you know, cashflow.

He ends up only ripping a small portion of the suit around the blade wound, chattering to himself about taking Matt out to dinner before he started removing clothes - it's partially for himself, something to stop the silence so the only thing he can focus on is what he's doing, and listening to Matt's breathing - but it's also in the vain hope that Matt will wake up and groan at one of his horrible jokes, and Peter will know he's not actually dying in his apartment.

"Woah there, buddy," Peter has to stop himself from twisting Matt's arm out of pure reflex. His spider sense is barely tickled, though, and Peter pauses from where he was applying neosporin to one of Matt's many cuts to rest his free hand on top of Matt's. "It's okay, you're okay. It's me, Peter, just me."
takesabeating: devil (pic#10346105)

[personal profile] takesabeating 2016-09-19 01:09 pm (UTC)(link)
It certainly wouldn't hurt for Matt to have a secondary safe house, especially since his sense of pride would probably mean he'd only use it once in a blue moon. Maybe he should mention to Peter that the lock on one of his windows can be easily jimmied from outside. Just in case he ever finds himself in need of a bolt hole. There really isn't anything in Matt's place that Peter could possibly hurt.

He's not sharing Melvin or his knowledge, though. Peter will have to just keep utilizing his own sources.

The familiar voice does ease the panic, and Matt loosens his grip, exhaling a pained sigh. Thank God it was him and not some lackey of Fisk's or Gao's who found him. A quick inventory of injuries suggests that he definitely wouldn't have survived the encounter. Might not have survived the night alone.

Taking hold of the hand resting on top of his, Matt guides him to the cleverly hidden fastenings that would allow him to undo the costume. "Easier if you get it off."

spideyguy: (136)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-09-19 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
The only reason Peter's even considering is because he's already trusted Matt with a lot. Not with his aunt, or anything like that, but he knows Peter's name and where he lives, and at least one of Matt's friends knows what he looks like - the doctor one, jeez, Peter forgets her name, Clara? Claire? - since he had a bad head wound she had to look at.

Eh, Peter's aware it's probably too expensive anyway. Just look at the size of Matt's apartment (an incorrect assumption, but not exactly one Peter is going to ask about regardless). Also, his sources? Hobby Lobby. At least he knows how to sew.

"You're at my apartment," Peter informs him, because Peter has a theory that Matt's abilities work kind of the way his do - they were both taken down by that high pitched dog whistle thing that one time, so. Peter knows the feeling of waking up, senses wired, trying to cut through the noise of the city to figure out where the hell he is. It's disorienting.

Peter finds the fastenings and unclasps them, chuckling to hide his nerves. He had a nurse for an aunt, and yeah, sometimes even he had wounds he had to stitch up, but for the most part Peter a) slept and b) ate ravenously, and then he was fine. "You really are a man of business, huh? Right down to brass tacks, just 'strip me!'"

The suit comes away, revealing more bloodied cuts and Peter holds in a sigh, taking the tube of neosporin up again. It's only halfway used, but Peter's not sure he'll have enough. "Dude, who did this?"
takesabeating: (pic#10346143)

[personal profile] takesabeating 2016-09-19 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
The knowledge of where he is does calm Matt further, because Peter was completely right -- he'd been sorting through all the sounds and smells, trying to pinpoint his location. Now he understands why that was such a struggle. He's very familiar with Hell's Kitchen, and not familiar at all with much of anything outside it.

The remark as Peter pulls away the suit makes him chuckle, although the sound that comes out is more halfchuckle/half choking sound of pain. He reminds himself that no matter how much it hurts right now, another gut stab would have been a whole lot worse. So really, he's getting off pretty lightly.

"Just try to control yourself, I know how irrestible I must look right now."

He looks like shit. And he knows it.

There are far more cuts and abrasions than he'd realized, and Matt wonders if he's going to have to do some research to help Melvin with an adjustment to the suit's material. It takes a minute for him to answer, but that's mostly because he's trying to decide how much to tell Peter.

"You remember the ninja sightings all over Hell's Kitchen a little while back?" It was kept pretty hush-hush, because nobody really wants the citizens of Manhattan to believe they're in danger from ninjas of all things. But word gets around to the people who keep track of things like that.
spideyguy: (135)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-09-19 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Peter will concur that Hell's Kitchen and his little section of Queens have a fair number of differences. And when you live in just one part of the city, you start to pick out a certain rhythm of the way things are. It's disorienting to have that change, the background noise that becomes ingrained into the back of your mind.

He holds in a hiss at Matt's noise of pain, because damn, that didn't seem to do it justice. 'Shit' is putting it lightly. The only comfort is that it probably looks worse than it is - but it looks absolutely terrible, so it's already horrible. "Oh, yup, I'm just itching to jump your bones. Totally have a thing for the whole 'beat to shit' aesthetic. Really pumps my nads, you dreamboat."

"Those were real? What am I saying, of course they were real," Peter snorts and starts cleaning up the freshly revealed wounds, light passes of a washcloth over the blood before he went back with the ointment. "Ninjas?"