Out of A Shell (Dash Parr x Fem!Shy!Reader)

The Danger of Working Alone

Once again, I tried standing, using the wall behind me as support. Pain made my teeth grit and my tears increase in frequency, but I managed to stay on my feet. When I took a step however, I gasped at the god-awful stinging.

It took too long for me to do it, but I stayed standing and hobbled my way over to the alley's opening, stepping onto the sidewalk. From there, I started my trek home.

It hurt so bad...I don't know if I'll make it, but I at least need to try. My house wasn't that far away from here, thank goodness.

As I kept moving along at a snail's pace, surely leaving drops of blood in my wake, hardly any cars passed by. The drivers of those that did clearly didn't notice my current state of distress, as they kept going down the streets. Or, they did notice, but didn't care.

I preferred it either way. I should probably go the hospital, but the scenario of my identity being revealed scared me too much. It wasn't like I could ditch my costume and go as a civilian either, how was I supposed to explain this to the doctors? I tripped and fell? Like that excuse wasn't overused.

It felt like an eternity, but the sight of my dull house eventually came into view. I almost cried tears of joy.

I moved as fast as I could to get inside. I went to the bathroom I used and peeled off the upper part of my suit, revealing the injury in all its vile glory: a semi-large gash that went I-don't-know-how-deep into me. It was still bleeding, so I grabbed a towel hanging from the rack next to the shower to press to it.

I used my clean hand to open a drawer in the sink, taking out a first-aid kit. I wasted no time in opening it and pulling open a packet to take out a wipe. I put it under the running faucet to wet it.

I hissed at intensified burning, but I cleaned the gash as much as I could. I then took some alcohol and dabbed a little of that on it...which was a mistake, since the pain kicked up to a 20. It felt like someone was holding up a lit match to it.

I took some gauze pads and medical tape, patching it. I didn't feel good about it at all, but I guessed this was as much as I could do right now. The gauze and tape made a good enough bandage.

I really hope I don't need stitches...

... ... ...

I looked at my reflection. I was sweating, my expression was discontented, my hair was a mess, my eyes were bloodshot, my lips were swelling up and slightly bruising from the spots I bit them in...

I was a mess. I was still in shock, that this even happened to me...

...But, part of me has always known this was a possibility. It was only a matter of time, that I'd get hurt doing this stuff. I didn't have the resources most superheroes did. I didn't have the support, the comfort of being in a team of sorts. Most of all, I didn't have the level of skill a lone superhero should have.

I was asking for this.

I spent the next couple of minutes cleaning up, carefully moving about so I wouldn't aggravate my stab wound even more. I cleaned the blood from my hands and from whatever surfaces I touched, before moving out of the bathroom and getting the few drops that landed on the floor. Fortunately, I didn't have to walk on the carpet when I came into the house, so I wouldn't have to worry about stains.

Right now, I'm really glad my parents are gone. I'm not sure if I would've been able to hide this from them.

I was exhausted, by the time I went to my room. I only had enough energy to take off my suit and throw a baggy shirt and shorts on, before I slipped into my bed.

I wanted to sleep, but the aching in my abdomen kept me from dozing off. As I lied there, slowly watching the light within my room from the sunset fade away as nighttime fell, tears slowly trickled down my cheeks.