Fluff! No lemons or smut! Sorry guys, but I'm trying to diversify.
You're skulking down the sidewalk, trying to block the throbbing in your hip.
Stupid men. Some idiot gang bangers had tried to take you in the alleyway. Of course, a few simple curses will have them dying of a non-contagious plague.
You may be ruthless and twisted, but you don't want EVERYONE in town dying. Some of these people are pretty nice! Especially that old couple up on the hill. All the kids are scared of them because they seem evil, but you find them very nice to be around when you're sad or depressed.
Sighing, you limp up the steps to your small house on the outskirts of town. You pull your keys out, but you realise that the door isn't even shut properly. Strange. You always at least shut your door, though you don't usually lock it.
But then... You've been waiting almost six months for someone you love and care about very much. In fact, he's one of five people you don't want to jinx. Could it be...?
You slowly, silently push the door open and slip inside. Already, you see the light of the kitchen is on. A hiss and clang sound, followed by a lot of curse words.
"Shut up, wi-will you? We d-don't know if her-her roommate's here!" You used to have a roommate, but she moved out a week ago. "Hold sti-still, d-damnit." Immediately, you recognize Toby's voice.
You drop your bag and run into the kitchen, skidding to a stop at the door. Your eyes pop at the sight of Toby, without his shirt, mouth guard and jacket, goggles pushed onto his head. He's frozen with a stitching needle in hand, trying to fix another boy's bullet wound. Both look like they got out of a huge fight.
The other boy must either be Brian, Toby's closest friend and fellow Proxie, but you're not paying much attention to him.
"Toby." You whisper, not quite believing.
Both boys are staring back, shocked. Hoodie is a little horrified, and obviously in pain. Toby hands him the needle, not taking his eyes off of you. In the next moment, his bloody, bruised arms are around you, lifting you up and twirling you around, his face in your shoulder. When he sets you down, he pulls back just enough to look at you and smile. You smile back, letting yourself drown in his beautiful smile, his dazzling eyes, his adorably wild hair.
"Sorry I di-didn't come back sooner. Slen-slenderman was keeping us all ver-very busy." He bends down and whispers in your ear, "Our l-last mission was all-all the way in England, tra-tracking some fanatic getting too-too close to finding us." You giggle.
"I'm glad your back, but are you two bleeding all over my kitchen?" You demand, only partially mocking offense.
Realizing he's getting you bloody, he jumps back a bit. "Oh, ri-right. Brian, this is (Y/n). We needed a place to-to lay low from the c-cops and get fixed up. I was hoping you-you'd be home, so you could do-do that magic shit." He wiggles his fingers, making you laugh.
You sigh and look at him. He's got a knife wound on his hip, a bullet probably pretty deep in his arm, innumerable bruises and small scrapes, possibly shattered ankle and he's dripping blood from his back, so something even worse happened there. Then you look at Brain. He's calm now, but still in pain. And you can see why. Three gunshot grazes in his side, a stab wound in his shoulder and a broken nose.
You walk over and look at the stitches Toby had done before you had arrived. Exasperated, you scoff and look back and the ticker. "Have you ever stitched a wound before? I know you can do better then this."
He raises his hands in defense. "I'm still sh-aky from the adrenaline, and the bul-bullet doesn't help." He points to his soldier.
"You could use it just fine when the witch came in." Brian growls at him.
You snap your fingers in front of the proxie, drawing his attention. "Do you want to be fixed?" You ask, to which he nods. "Then don't talk shit about me. You'll pass out, maybe even die if you try to go anywhere else." You remark, rifling through the kits they dug out for scissors.
When you find them, you cut the stiches as best as possible and through it all away. After, you cover your couch in old towels and sheets. When you're done, Toby helps Brian off of the counter and onto the couch. Once he's settled, you gently put your hands on his bullet and knife wounds. For the next several minutes, you chant as a warm, tingling sensation fills your softly glowing hands. The wounds you focus on slowly close up until they're nothing but scars. Then, just for him being a dick, you snap his nose back into place before healing that too. He cries in protest, but Toby holds him down. When your done, you sit back on your heels.
"Any broken bones?" He drearily shakes his head. "Good. You can spend the night without worry. No cop could find this place if they wanted to." You get up and go to the kitchen to wash up the blood off and wait for Toby.
Toby's POV(cause I can)
I look down at Hoodie, who's seconds from falling asleep. "D-damn man. She wasn't that that nice to me the first ti-time we met. You're lucky." I mutter, crouching down.
My wounds don't bother me because I can't feel pain, but it's irritating when I'm hit in a joint or a lot of muscle. It usually makes moving difficult.
"She sure warmed up to up you, then." He mutters, struggling to stay awake. "Does He know?"
Slenderman. Our boss. "What? No-no of course he do-doesn't. He'd kill us both." I try to curb the sharpness in my tone.
It's my fault. Actually, I was supposed to kill (Y/n). That's how we met. She jinxed me for the next four months for it. I couldn't actually hurt anyone. By the time it wore off, I damn near committed all-out genocide.
"He's going to ask tomorrow... I'm not covering your ass over this, either. Don't bitch about it and bring her back with us. She's cool... They'll like her enough to spare her life." With that, Hoodie is out cold.
I want to break his nose again, a finger maybe, do something to hurt the bastard for at least half of what he just said. But he's right. It's been three years since I spared (Y/n), and if He hasn't figured us out yet, he will soon. If I don't do something, he'll make me kill her. For real. And she is the one person I can't kill.
Reader's POV
You wait on the counter for Toby, munching on a slice of bread when he walks in. You know he probably doesn't realize this, but he already looks pale as ash from blood loss. You doubt he would actually realize it if he got dizzy and passed out. You slip off the counter, grad his arm and pull him over.
"Come on. You're still bleeding badly. If you don't sit down and relax, you're going to die from bloodloss." You mutter, pointing to the counter.
With effort, he gets up and sits down. He leans back against the cupboards, only confirming your worries. He is drained. First you work on his hip, healing the knife wound. Then the bullet lodged in his arm. When the piece of metal is pushed out, you quickly throw it away, mostly on reflex.
The first time you had healed Toby, your roommate had found the bullets and screamed. You were barely conscious enough to clean up the blood, but the bullets never occurred to you.
After that you handle his ankle, twisting and snapping it back into place as best you can before using your magic.
When you look up at him, he's just smiling at you sadly, like this might be the last time he'll see you. The gaze causes a rock to form in your throat and drop to your stomach, weighing you down.
You stand, a little unsteady, until your closer to his eye-level. "What's wrong, Toby?" You ask, terrified to know the answer.
He shakes his head and leans forward, propping himself on his knees. "I need to as-ask you something, but I-I'm about to pass out." So he does notice, you joke inwardly. "My b-back is pretty fucked up. Ca-Can you fix it?" His words slur a bit, as if he were drunk. Not good.
You smile and nod, helping him off the counter. He turns around and bends over, leaning on the counter with his forearms. His back is shredded. Bits of gravel lodged in his bloody flesh, chunks dangling by threads. You have to put a hand over your mouth, stifling a gasp of horror. Of course, he still hears your reaction and chuckles. "D-don't worry. It's not as as deep as-as it looks. And I can't fe-feel it, so..." He shrugs, trailing off.
"Toby, that's not even half of the issue." You mutter, almost completely mute. "I don't think I have the strength to fix this."
He slowly stands up and turns to look at you. He puts his hand on your waist and whispers in your ear, "I don't ne-need you to fix all of me, (Y/n). Jus-just enough so I can thi-think. Just get the rocks out an-and wrap me in gauze. I-I'll be fine after that."
You swallow the brick of fear in you throat and nod. He's right. You can't finish the job now, because you'll be knocked out for weeks after.
He turns back around and bends over, pressing his forehead to the bloody cupboard. You grab the tweezers and start picking out the biggest of the rocks. "What happened?"
"I got rammed by a car-car. It threw me pre-pretty far. Might have crac-cracked a few ribs, but I'm not sure. The fanat-atic was already insane, so we-we just let the police take him in. Slender won't be-be happy we failed, tho-though." He explains.
You smile. "I've missed this. Not the 'you're about to pass out any second' part, but hearing about your missions has always been fun." You put the tweezers on the plate full of blood and rocks before pushing as much magic as you dare into his wounds.
He chuckles. "I-I've missed your magic." He sighs in relief as the warmth floods his back for a moment before dying.
"Alright. Stand up. We can at least find out if there's an issue with your ribs." You tell him, already feeling a bit queasy. He does so and holds out his arms while you feel his ribcage as best as possible, shaking your head. "Nothing's broken, thankfully. But these bruises here and here definitely reach the bone. Maybe even your lungs. Tell your boss you can't do anything for a while alright?" You scold him, starting to wrap him in gauze.
"Speaking of my-my boss... This is st-starting to get dan-dangerous." He states bluntly after a sigh.
"He's starting to wonder?" You guess, cutting the wrappings and taping them down, letting your hands rest on his chest.
Toby nods, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. "We-we have two op-options. I can bring you back with me-me, or... We can forget abou-about each other." He says, frowning with worry.
You push your hand around his neck, one going into his hair, the other resting on his scarred cheek. "If I come with you, will I get to see you more?" You ask hopefully.
He gives an uncertain grin and nods, tightening his grip slightly. "Bu-but there are a lot of-of creeps there." He warns.
His caution and care are adorable. You turn so he can see your hip, lifting your shirt and pulling the band of your pants and undergarments down so he can see the massive blue bruise already forming there. "A gang." Toby's entire body tenses, so I smile and kiss his cheek. "I cursed them all, don't worry. I can handle creeps." You tell him, resting your head on his chest gently.
His arms return to your waist, holding you close. "Al-alright. I'll bring you wi-with me, but if anyone touches you, I-I'm the first to know. O-okay?"
You smile, burying your face into his neck and nod. "Sounds good to me."