fuck you, I'm a goddamn menace pt. 1: morgan fucks up
the story of the barely tamed feral villain and the hero team determined to protect him
This first part is an edit of an earlier story of mine, to add actual names and additional context.
TW: injury, concussion, sedation, medical whump, abuse mentions
Oh, he'd really fucked up this time. Already so weary, at the end of his rope, he failed to notice the energy blast coming from the youngest member of the hero team, the one who struggled to keep her powers under control. He knew how badly he'd fucked up when his back hit the wall, pain exploding from every muscle, especially the parts of his back where his boss had already punished him. His head impacted the concrete with a sickening crack that made him see stars.
Morgan, the city's second-most menacing villain and public enemy number two, sank helplessly to the sidewalk, his body refusing to obey his commands. Through his blurred vision, he could see the painfully bright costumes of the hero team, and he tried to struggle to his feet. He couldn't fail here. It simply wasn't an option. Failure meant risking the wrath of his boss, or worse, being captured and at the mercy of the heroes.
Pain radiated from his knee as he tried to stand. It was broken, maybe. Even more urgently, every tiny movement of his head caused a wave of dizziness, the world tilting and spinning in a nauseating blur. He searched for the word. Concussed, he was concussed. Shit. This was bad.
"Oh god oh god oh god." That was the high pitched voice of the young hero. "Oh god, are you okay? I didn't mean to hit that hard -- oh no oh no --"
Morgan tried to answer, but his tongue was thick in his mouth.
"Step aside."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt him that bad --"
"It's okay, Julie. Step aside and let me take a look."
Morgan would know that voice anytime, anywhere, the smooth and confident voice of his nemesis, the city's most beloved superhero. Powerful, upstanding, and disgustingly rules-abiding. Morgan hated him. Hated that he had so much power and had the luxury of helping people with it.
"Morgan, speak to me," said Arthur. "Stay awake. Talk to me. How bad is it?"
Arthur's sickening face swam into view before Morgan's eyes. Fuck, this was really bad. He tried hard to focus. He had to slip away, couldn't let himself be captured. Salcedo would be furious. He'd hurt Morgan so much worse than he'd already been hurt.
"Let me go," Morgan managed, but it sounded weak and pathetic.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Morgan. You're severely injured. I'm going to get you medical attention."
Morgan tried to shake his head no, but all it did was make him twice as dizzy. He felt on the verge of passing out.
"Stay awake, Morgan, please, keep those eyes open. Can you see my fingers? How many fingers am I holding up?"
The fingers were nothing more than an indistinct blur. Morgan couldn't answer. All he could think of was his boss's unquenchable rage when he learned Morgan had fucked up so badly. He could feel it now, power suppressants strapped to each of his limbs, the way the smooth metallic floor of the lair felt against his face as his boss mercilessly beat him for his failures.
"Get up, Morgan," said the cruel voice of Salcedo, delivering a kick to his ribs. "Get the fuck up. I don't pay you to cower on the floor."Â
"I -- I can't --"
"Yes, you can, Morgan. You can keep your eyes open," said a much gentler voice. "You can stay awake for me, please, stay awake. The medic is almost here."
It sounded nice. The voice was familiar. He felt himself nodding. A medic. That sounded good.Â
"That's good, Morgan. Stay awake. Just a little more."Â
His head felt heavy, his eyes strangely drowsy. He wouldn't mind going to sleep, but the voice was telling him to stay awake, echoing inside his head. Stay awake, stay awake.
A strong hand squeezed his, warm and comforting. Everything hurt except for that. He tried to squeeze back.
"Yes, that's good. I'm here. You're gonna be okay, Morgan, we're gonna keep you safe."
Safe. What the fuck was safe? When had he ever been safe? Safety was for people like -- like -- His sluggish mind placed the voice and face --Â Toshiro. His nemesis' crafty sidekick -- Fuck. He instinctively backed away.Â
"No, no, it's okay! Just try to relax. I'm not going to hurt you."
"No -- no --" If the punishment Morgan boss doled out was bad, he couldn't imagine what the hero team might do to him. He'd been a thorn in Arthur and Toshiro's side for years.
"The medic's here, Morgan. Just try to stay calm. I've got you."
Before he could protest further, Morgan felt arms picking him up and laying him down on a gurney. His struggle against them was fruitless, his limbs weak and uncoordinated.Â
"Should we strap him down?" said a voice.
"I think you'd better. He doesn't seem to be all there. And even if he was..."
"Please -- don't --" said Morgan, too quiet for anyone to even hear, as he felt pressure against his chest and legs, holding him down.Â
"The concussion seems to be very serious, and there are multiple fractures at a minimum, not to mention the possibility of organ damage and internal bleeding," said a serious voice. "We'll have to administer painkillers and sedatives, and prepare an OR for emergency surgery."
"No!" Morgan called out, a surge of adrenaline giving him the strength to fight. "You can't -- you can't capture me -- don't drug me -- let me go!"
Arthur's firm hands pinned Morgan's shoulders to the gurney. "You're going to hurt yourself, Morgan. We're getting you medical attention. We're not going to hurt you, I swear it."
Incoherent nightmares filled Morgan's foggy mind. "Yes, you are! Yes, you --"
His voice was suddenly muffled by a black rubber mask, and he gulped down a chemical-smelling, drug-laden breath before he realized it. He fell back against the gurney, his head much woozier and dizzier than it had been even a moment before.
"Just try to relax, Morgan," said Toshiro. "It's just going to ease your pain and make you drowsy, okay?"
Morgan shook his head in a vain attempt to get the mask off his face, but Arthur's hand was holding it firm. Incapacitating him. Placing Morgan at the mercy of the man who must hate him more than anyone. And his struggles were useless, the mask not budging an inch.Â
Exhausted by his attempts, Morgan stopped struggling for a moment and allowed Arthur's face to come into focus. He didn't look angry. He looked... sad? Morgan blinked, and he realized that his eyelids were so heavy. The sedative was kicking in. He was utterly helpless. And he should be terrified of that, but his fear was starting to feel foggy and far away, almost as if he was watching himself from a distance.
"That's good, Morgan, you're doing okay. Just keep breathing," said Arthur.
He sounded so... reassuring. Morgan wondered briefly if that was how he sounded when he rescued civilians. Sometimes, on particularly bad nights, he wondered how that would feel. Being rescued. Being safe.
"You can shut your eyes now," said Arthur. "You can go to sleep if you're tired. It's okay. You're safe."
Morgan wanted to laugh. He never got to sleep just because he was tired. He was so, so tired, all of the time. And he was so impossibly, incredibly tired now. His knee hurt, his back hurt, his head felt like it was being jackhammered. His heavy eyes wanted so badly to close and stay shut. He just wanted to sleep. But he was in danger, wasn't he? He couldn't sleep here. Boss would kill him. He couldn't... sleep...
"...stronger sedative to put him under..." a voice was saying.Â
There was the unmistakable feeling of a cold needle in the crook of his elbow. Morgan wanted to fight it, stop it from happening, but all he could do was blink his heavy eyelids. "Don't..." he muttered. "Please don't... please..."
"Ssh, Morgan, it's okay, I swear," said Toshiro. "I swear no one here is going to hurt you. You're just going to go to sleep, okay? The drugs are going to make you feel really warm and nice and then you'll go to sleep, and nothing bad is going to happen. I promise."
That strong hand squeezed his again. Morgan felt so safe, so comforted, and he was so sleepy now, so sleepy and relaxed. The world was just a fading blur beyond his half-closed eyelids. He couldn't feel the pain as much any more. All he wanted to do was sleep. He never got to just sleep. Sleep would make him feel so much better.
"It's okay to sleep," said the reassuring blur. "I'll be right here."
Morgan remembered the reason he couldn't go to sleep. "Salcedo...?" he said weakly. "Salcedo is gonna fucking kill me."
"He's not here right now, Morgan. I'm here. And I'll protect you while you sleep. No one is going to hurt you."
This had to be a dream. A dream where he got to sleep and someone was going to protect him from his boss. But he never got nice dreams like that.
"Is it..." His mind was so hazy. He couldn't think of what he was trying to say. "I'm..."
"You're going to sleep, now, Morgan. You need to rest. Go to sleep. Shut your eyes. Rest."
"Mmm." He was too tired to argue. It felt so, so good to close his eyes. He could feel his pain fading as he relaxed onto the gurney.
"...surgery... gonna have to..."
"...can't just let him..."
"...right thing to do."
That was the last thing he heard before the sedatives pulled him down into a dreamless sleep.
Thank you for reading this story of a villain who needs some sleep.
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
discoholicmusic
turnnoffyourmind
gracieabrams
tangentwithtanner
areudirty
