Challenge 02: Drabble Tree
Challenge #02
For this challenge, we will be doing a drabble tree! Some of you may remember doing this a few phases back and the original idea for this came from skieswideopen. To create a drabble tree, you will be responding to other people's drabbles with your own using a single line from that drabble. More than one person can respond to any given drabble ( Read more... )
For this challenge, we will be doing a drabble tree! Some of you may remember doing this a few phases back and the original idea for this came from skieswideopen. To create a drabble tree, you will be responding to other people's drabbles with your own using a single line from that drabble. More than one person can respond to any given drabble ( Read more... )
He'll make it. He has to.
Bucky kept repeating it as kind of a mantra in his mind ever since one of the Dora Milaje showed up in the village, her expression even more grim than usual.
She didn't tell him right away what had happened, but Bucky was alive long enough to put two and two together. Something was wrong with Steve, terribly wrong. Sure, he would worry just the same about Wanda, or Nat, or even Sam, but you can't erase almost a century of friendship just like that.
Arriving at the palace, T'Challa was already waiting for him, his expression schooled, but also worried
"White Wolf, I'll be frank with you - it doesn't really look good."
"What happened?"
"Okoye and I will try to get the truth out from Wilson and Romanoff, but I think that will have to wait until they have any news on Captain Rogers."
In the meantime, they had reached the OR area of the medical wing, and as soon as Natasha saw Bucky, she all but launched herself at him, showing a rare sign of what both would have once considered a weakness by wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into his chest.
"Hey, Natalia." Bucky pulled her head slightly back, seeing her red eyes for the first time. "We both know that it takes more than that to kill Steve. He's strong and he's too stubborn to die just like that."
"Let's hope you're right, Barnes," Sam threw in from the side, his eyes resembling Natasha's.
"I am, Sam, I am," Bucky gave back, sitting down in one of the seats, Natasha still clinging to him. "Cause I've been in this situation too often to count. Back before the serum, a strong wind coming from the wrong side was bound to throw Steve off. There wasn't a year in our youth where Steve wasn't in the hospital for at least several days. Most of the time it was closer to several weeks than anything else. And we've all, that's his ma, my family, and me, we've been prepared for the worst to happen." Bucky took a deep breath before continuing. "The winter when he turned 16, Steve got such a severe case of pneunomia that every time one of us went in to sit with him, a priest hovered near the doorway, ready to perform last rites as quick as possible."
"So you're not worried about him?" Nat asked after sitting up a bit.
"Of course I am, more than I would ever let on, but I also have faith in the doctors here." Bucky locked eyes first with her, then with Sam. "If they managed to pull him through in the Great Depression, they should be able to do so with so many improvements in healthcare and medicine."
That seemed to do the job, and while his insides seemed to rearrange themselves any time they saw a doctor or a nurse through the waiting room window, Bucky kept his cool on the outside. He wouldn't do anyone anything good with falling apart, and with his mind still so fragile after everything, it might even reset everything they had accomplished so far.
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Something was wrong with Harry, terribly wrong. Ron was sure of it.
Hermione, her brown eyes wide with a sort of horrified bafflement, turned to him. "Did something happen at Quidditch practice?"
Ron shook his head.
"Any falls? Stray spells? Did he slip in the shower and hit his head?"
"No. He was the same as always, but then we came down and he just--" Ron gestured helplessly.
Neville sat down across from them, nearly missing the bench as his head was turned to the Slytherin table. Seamus plopped down beside him, eyes equally riveted to the scene playing out on the far side of the Great Hall. "Maybe it's the fumes from Greenhouse 4, but that looks like Potter and Malfoy."
Ron glared at Seamus. He didn't need to hear it, as well as see it. Seeing it, honestly, was enough to make bile rise in his throat. He swallowed it down and hoped that they were all suffering from some kind of mass hallucination. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what in the name of Merlin Harry was doing kissing Malfoy.
sera / #2
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"What happened?" T'Pol sar up and looked around. "Where are we?"
"I don't know. One minute I was walking down the corridor to engineering and the next moment I was here." Trip leaned against what looked like a bulkhead. "I think it's a ship but I'm not familiar with the design. There's some kind of writing over there." He pointed to a panel next to where he was sitting.
T'Pol looked where he pointed. She frowned.
"What is it? Do you know what it says?" Trip sat up. "Who has us?"
"It's similar to ancient Vulcan but there are some differences." T'Pol stood up. "It can't be possible. They are a myth."
"T'Pol!?" Trip stood up and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. "Tell me who has us!"
"The Romulans."
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