Fic: Monster by severedscythe, Wiccan/Hulkling, slash, rated PG
Title: Monster
Author: severedscythe
Prompt: 616 | Wiccan/Hulkling | Slash | It takes a special kind of hero not to kill the guy who punched your boyfriend through a wall.
Rating: pg
Word count: 1227
Disclaimer: The characters and settings featured in this story are the property of Marvel Entertainment. This is a work of homage and no copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Mentions of blood and guts and Teh Gay(smooches, no sex)
Author's notes: I tried to write more than this, but the prompt wouldn’t let me. D: sorry.
They’d cornered them in the top floor of an office building that was still under construction. It was a hulking monolith, all tarps and newly installed glass, steel braces gleaming in the dull morning light. They’d fought all the way up, spitting and snarling. The hate was almost tangible, on both sides. They were teenagers, after all. Teenagers hate easily, according to the adults. Sometimes Billy wondered if that was why Captain America had thought they were dangerous.
“If he’s not okay, you’re going to stop breathing.”
It wasn’t like his usual spells. It really wasn’t a spell at all, but the air crackled between them all the same. The creature (he couldn’t think of it as a man, even if that’s what it had been before. An escaped criminal, from somewhere or other. ) hesitated for a second, sharklike mouth open in a parody of a grin.
Billy had never wanted anyone to die before. At least, he didn’t think he had. There was that thing during the civil war, when Teddy was getting cut up and all he could do was watch. So maybe he was lying to himself. Didn’t everyone lie to themselves, at some point? Maybe he did want someone to die, way back then.
It was hard to believe that it was only a few weeks ago, really. Maybe.
He couldn’t remember.
“You wouldn’t have the guts, witchling.”
What was it with these super powered asshole bad guys assuming that just because he identified as a witch that he was a pansy? Sure, he was gay. Sure he had a boyfriend who, he could admit to himself at least, he loved very much. They hadn’t actually SAID it yet but it was implied. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t break some bastard’s neck for slamming his boyfriend out through three feet of concrete and twenty stories down, his stomach sliced open and blood -everywhere-.
There’d been so much blood.
He’d been trying to rationalise it in his head. Teddy’s physiology made it so that his organs protected themselves, so his guts would stay in his body. And he had wings. He wasn’t going to go splat. Of course he hadn’t been dazed or confused, having been knocked through a wall. Sure he wasn’t expecting him to save him. Of course he wasn’t going to get tangled in a tarp on the way down and splat onto the pavement, making a big, green and blonde pancake.
Sure.
He was going to be fine. Just fine.
Lightening crackled along his arms, focusing in his palms as he drove his fist into the creatures face. Broderick. That’s what he’d been called. You could do nasty things to someone, if you had their true name and the inclination. His name on the file that Vision had pulled up for them was Andrew Richard Broderick, but he called himself Gnasher. He believed in that name. He lived by that name.
Often, Billy had wondered what made a true name. His own, he knew. His middle name was a secret from everyone except Teddy, and that was because he trusted him. His full name, his true name, could be used for some pretty nasty shit. It didn’t work quite that way with everyone else. You had to have the name that people identified themselves with. That they went by.
The fact that this bastard only had one name that he identified himself by made it easier. He didn’t have time to think about the consequences. Perhaps the others wouldn’t understand what he was doing, or why. They’d all been facing away when Teddy had gone out that wall. They hadn’t seen the pain on his face. The finality of the situation hadn’t hit them.
“Andrew Richard Broderick. Gnasher.” He said, and the bastard froze, mid punch. The others reacted with confusion, Broderick’s pals still fighting, but shocked. Eli slammed his fist into the stomach of his opponent, and looked over at him.
“Wiccan?”
“Shh. I’m busy.” He didn’t feel like himself. He wouldn’t contemplate this, normally. But Teddy still hadn’t gotten up and this bastard had just about KILLED him. He wanted to watch him burn. The floor underneath himself shook with power, so he rose above it on instinct.
“Wiccan. -Wiccan-. He’s okay, just stop, alright? Hulkling is -fine-.”
He couldn’t hear her. Cassie’s mouth was moving but no sound was coming out, at least to him. He didn’t even notice he was choking the guy. Broderick’s hands were clawing at his throat, as if he could take the mental hand Billy’d placed there off with sheer force of will. His face was turning blue, white around the gills.
He couldn’t make himself care enough to let him go. He identified the fuel for his magic, now he had the time to think. It had been a long while since he’d backed it with rage. Usually, if he did that it didn’t work. Not a stable emotion, rage. Fury was hard to control, and made his magic unreliable. The kind of rage he was feeling now, the cold, burning sensation right behind his lungs made him want to smash things, that was working. It made him want to pull the world apart and put it back together again with the pieces missing. It made him want to break down.
“Billy. Stop.”
A large hand landed on his arm, and he let go of the guy, surprised. Whirling to face him, he didn’t think, launching himself at Teddy and burying his face in his shoulder, his own shoulders shaking with the effort of not breaking down. Teddy was alive. Teddy was okay. Teddy didn’t want him to kill the guy. Alright.
He could hear the gasps of the superhuman on the floor behind him in the quiet of the room. The accomplices had been taken care of, and the others were just watching him. He didn’t want to think about the fact that they might be afraid of him now they knew what he could do. Now that they knew that they’d given him their names freely, and he’d never explained. Never promised.
All that faded into the background with Teddy’s arms around his shoulders, his lips in his hair. He tugged him down for a desperate, relieved kiss and ignored the fact that they were in what could amount, in some circles, to public. The arms around his shoulders tightened and he melted into him, his own arms going around his waist, the only part of him that he could reach without wrenching his arms out of his sockets.
The fact that he was still alive and breathing made everything else fade to black and white like an old silent movie, where they were the only things in colour in the entire world.
“I coulda killed him, Ted. I could have. I -wanted- to.”
Teddy didn’t say anything, wings morphing back into his shoulder blades as he sank down with him, arms tight over his shoulders. Billy leaned into him, letting him support his weight because he couldn’t have held himself up, even if he wanted to.
“What -am I-?” he whispered, and heard the others shift uncomfortably, Eli giving the orders for everyone to go out.
Teddy didn’t have an answer for him. Instead, he kissed his forehead, shifting back to human and keeping his arms around his shoulders. That had to be enough.
Author: severedscythe
Prompt: 616 | Wiccan/Hulkling | Slash | It takes a special kind of hero not to kill the guy who punched your boyfriend through a wall.
Rating: pg
Word count: 1227
Disclaimer: The characters and settings featured in this story are the property of Marvel Entertainment. This is a work of homage and no copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Mentions of blood and guts and Teh Gay(smooches, no sex)
Author's notes: I tried to write more than this, but the prompt wouldn’t let me. D: sorry.
They’d cornered them in the top floor of an office building that was still under construction. It was a hulking monolith, all tarps and newly installed glass, steel braces gleaming in the dull morning light. They’d fought all the way up, spitting and snarling. The hate was almost tangible, on both sides. They were teenagers, after all. Teenagers hate easily, according to the adults. Sometimes Billy wondered if that was why Captain America had thought they were dangerous.
“If he’s not okay, you’re going to stop breathing.”
It wasn’t like his usual spells. It really wasn’t a spell at all, but the air crackled between them all the same. The creature (he couldn’t think of it as a man, even if that’s what it had been before. An escaped criminal, from somewhere or other. ) hesitated for a second, sharklike mouth open in a parody of a grin.
Billy had never wanted anyone to die before. At least, he didn’t think he had. There was that thing during the civil war, when Teddy was getting cut up and all he could do was watch. So maybe he was lying to himself. Didn’t everyone lie to themselves, at some point? Maybe he did want someone to die, way back then.
It was hard to believe that it was only a few weeks ago, really. Maybe.
He couldn’t remember.
“You wouldn’t have the guts, witchling.”
What was it with these super powered asshole bad guys assuming that just because he identified as a witch that he was a pansy? Sure, he was gay. Sure he had a boyfriend who, he could admit to himself at least, he loved very much. They hadn’t actually SAID it yet but it was implied. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t break some bastard’s neck for slamming his boyfriend out through three feet of concrete and twenty stories down, his stomach sliced open and blood -everywhere-.
There’d been so much blood.
He’d been trying to rationalise it in his head. Teddy’s physiology made it so that his organs protected themselves, so his guts would stay in his body. And he had wings. He wasn’t going to go splat. Of course he hadn’t been dazed or confused, having been knocked through a wall. Sure he wasn’t expecting him to save him. Of course he wasn’t going to get tangled in a tarp on the way down and splat onto the pavement, making a big, green and blonde pancake.
Sure.
He was going to be fine. Just fine.
Lightening crackled along his arms, focusing in his palms as he drove his fist into the creatures face. Broderick. That’s what he’d been called. You could do nasty things to someone, if you had their true name and the inclination. His name on the file that Vision had pulled up for them was Andrew Richard Broderick, but he called himself Gnasher. He believed in that name. He lived by that name.
Often, Billy had wondered what made a true name. His own, he knew. His middle name was a secret from everyone except Teddy, and that was because he trusted him. His full name, his true name, could be used for some pretty nasty shit. It didn’t work quite that way with everyone else. You had to have the name that people identified themselves with. That they went by.
The fact that this bastard only had one name that he identified himself by made it easier. He didn’t have time to think about the consequences. Perhaps the others wouldn’t understand what he was doing, or why. They’d all been facing away when Teddy had gone out that wall. They hadn’t seen the pain on his face. The finality of the situation hadn’t hit them.
“Andrew Richard Broderick. Gnasher.” He said, and the bastard froze, mid punch. The others reacted with confusion, Broderick’s pals still fighting, but shocked. Eli slammed his fist into the stomach of his opponent, and looked over at him.
“Wiccan?”
“Shh. I’m busy.” He didn’t feel like himself. He wouldn’t contemplate this, normally. But Teddy still hadn’t gotten up and this bastard had just about KILLED him. He wanted to watch him burn. The floor underneath himself shook with power, so he rose above it on instinct.
“Wiccan. -Wiccan-. He’s okay, just stop, alright? Hulkling is -fine-.”
He couldn’t hear her. Cassie’s mouth was moving but no sound was coming out, at least to him. He didn’t even notice he was choking the guy. Broderick’s hands were clawing at his throat, as if he could take the mental hand Billy’d placed there off with sheer force of will. His face was turning blue, white around the gills.
He couldn’t make himself care enough to let him go. He identified the fuel for his magic, now he had the time to think. It had been a long while since he’d backed it with rage. Usually, if he did that it didn’t work. Not a stable emotion, rage. Fury was hard to control, and made his magic unreliable. The kind of rage he was feeling now, the cold, burning sensation right behind his lungs made him want to smash things, that was working. It made him want to pull the world apart and put it back together again with the pieces missing. It made him want to break down.
“Billy. Stop.”
A large hand landed on his arm, and he let go of the guy, surprised. Whirling to face him, he didn’t think, launching himself at Teddy and burying his face in his shoulder, his own shoulders shaking with the effort of not breaking down. Teddy was alive. Teddy was okay. Teddy didn’t want him to kill the guy. Alright.
He could hear the gasps of the superhuman on the floor behind him in the quiet of the room. The accomplices had been taken care of, and the others were just watching him. He didn’t want to think about the fact that they might be afraid of him now they knew what he could do. Now that they knew that they’d given him their names freely, and he’d never explained. Never promised.
All that faded into the background with Teddy’s arms around his shoulders, his lips in his hair. He tugged him down for a desperate, relieved kiss and ignored the fact that they were in what could amount, in some circles, to public. The arms around his shoulders tightened and he melted into him, his own arms going around his waist, the only part of him that he could reach without wrenching his arms out of his sockets.
The fact that he was still alive and breathing made everything else fade to black and white like an old silent movie, where they were the only things in colour in the entire world.
“I coulda killed him, Ted. I could have. I -wanted- to.”
Teddy didn’t say anything, wings morphing back into his shoulder blades as he sank down with him, arms tight over his shoulders. Billy leaned into him, letting him support his weight because he couldn’t have held himself up, even if he wanted to.
“What -am I-?” he whispered, and heard the others shift uncomfortably, Eli giving the orders for everyone to go out.
Teddy didn’t have an answer for him. Instead, he kissed his forehead, shifting back to human and keeping his arms around his shoulders. That had to be enough.