Niki has hyperacusis, a condition that makes sound not just loud, but genuinely painful. For him, the world is constant sensory overload, every sharp noise hitting harder than it should. Which makes it all the more horrifying that the very people using him know exactly how vulnerable he is… because holding something as simple as a horn against his ear isn’t just cruel intimidation for Niki. It’s agony. And the worst part? The same painfully sensitive hearing they exploit is exactly what makes him so valuable to them in the first place.
A hand tentatively brushing his shoulder made Splinter jump. The simple fact that someone had managed to sneak up on him was startling enough that his lurch made Leonardo jump in turn, a teacup sloshing over on the tray he carried. The overwarm, pulsing fullness lodged in Splinter’s ear canal sloshed too with the sudden movement and he cringed, clutching at his head.
“Sorry,” Leonardo mouthed sympathetically as he set the tray down, gesturing to the cloth compresses and the bowl of steaming water alongside the tea. An ironic home remedy, considering water was the problem in the first place.
Tilting his head, Splinter flicked his ear with restless, aching agitation and only succeeded in setting off a high-pitched dizzy tone that almost made the screech of Donatello’s printer seem soothing.
He didn’t regret his unforeseen swim the other day; he and his turtles were scuffling with Shredder’s minions and in the process a remote had been knocked into the sewer stream. Donatello needed it to deactivate Krang’s technology within the next forty-five seconds and everyone else was engaged in the battle. Splinter dove to retrieve it without a second thought.
He would do it again if he had to but that didn’t make the consequences of foul sewer immersion any easier to endure. Hissing, he flicked his ear again, pawed and palmed roughly at the watery congestion swelling and shrilling within in some futile hope that it would evaporate under a more forceful touch. Leonardo’s hurried protests were tinny, muffled.
“—ot helpi—know—hurts, Sens—patient—”
Now he understood how his students felt to hear him advise patience when they were ailing but the frustration was drowned out by the relentless popping, pounding pressure; the next earsplitting surge of vertigo rather unceremoniously tipped him over.
This story features a bit of Valerian's past. It is part of Aurelis' story, but Aurelis herself does not show up in it. All the same, you can find this snippet under Aurelis' masterlist!
Metal scraped against metal and heels clicked on the ground. Valerian spat out a glob of blood onto the cold, hard concrete below. He started to right himself when the pipe came down against his midsection. He hated himself for crying out.
“The Black Circle doesn’t take well to deserters,” Seraphina drawled.
“Not a deserter,” Valerian smiled with bloodied teeth, “I was never on your side. To desert someone you have to have been loyal at- GAH!”
She had pressed her heel into his ribcage and turned him over onto his back. She traced his jawline with the pipe and turned his head with it to face her directly.
“You’re not playing nice, Rainer, if that’s even your name.”
Seraphina’s green eyes scanned every feature, every micro-expression on his face, for any hint of information. Valerian kept his face pained but otherwise neutral. He wasn’t giving her an inch.
“I will ask you one last time,” Seraphina said, dropping the pipe on his chest, “what did you do with the power orb?”
After getting over the sucker punch to the gut from a piece of plumbing, Valerian took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It looked like there was only one way out of this.
“Why don’t I show you?” he said.
His eyes opened. Seraphina’s own eyes went wide, and he could see his irises’ violet hue reflected in them. Pushing aside the fact that his eyes were supposed to be blue, Valerian gripped Seraphina’s leg with a hand coated in red energy. He yanked her forward and she dropped to the ground.
He jumped up, adrenaline providing a much-needed energy spike. The other agents closed in on him. He tried to remember how the Red Eclipse had done it. She seemed to just wave her hand and things would happen.
He would start small; he didn’t want to seriously hurt anyone. A tiny trickle, and-
Oh man.
The red energy blasted three of the agents into the wall. They slumped to the ground, unconscious or possibly worse considering the blood splatters behind them.
Valerian winced. He grabbed the pipe Seraphina had dropped on him. Maybe he’d be better off not using these new powers. The two remaining agents in the room stared him down, and he stared right back.
His combat boots thundered up the concrete steps. He opened the locked door. Well, he ripped it off its hinges with red energy. No matter, it got the job done. He threw the offending slab of metal down the stairs and bolted through the abandoned building’s ground floor.
He went to jump out a window but recoiled just in time. As it turned out, he was not on the ground floor, but rather, five stories up. The previous room just happened to have no windows. He cursed, looking around for a stairwell. A stampede of agents came at him from all the available exits. Seraphina came out of the room, her usually perfectly-pinned blonde hair disheveled and messy.
“Non-lethal! We need him alive!” she shouted.
Agents holstered their guns, instead opting for various electrified weapons such as ecrisma sticks, tasers, and clubs.
Valerian stepped back, then glanced out the window. He sighed, throwing his hands up in surrender.
He threw a ball of power behind him, shattering the glass into dust. He jumped backwards.
“No!” Seraphina screamed.
Oh relax, I’m not gonna die, Valerian thought.
The ground was getting dangerously closer, and Valerian still hadn’t activated his ability to fly.
Okay, maybe I am gonna die, he re-considered.
He braced for impact, at which point his body stopped inches above the street. His nose was nearly touching the asphalt. Valerian sighed in relief, then dropped to the ground.
“Ow…”
Seraphina shouted something else from the window, but he couldn’t make it out over the ringing in his ears. The skin under his nose felt wet, and something metallic filled his nostrils.
No time to deal with it now, he still needed to get far away from the building.
He jumped up, taking off like a rocket in midair. He didn’t stop until he reached his dorm on his college’s campus, at which point he zipped in through the open window and crashed against the wall.
He brushed the drywall from his head and went over to close the window. He took one step, two steps, then his knees buckled. His eyes flickered red as they glazed over and fluttered shut. What a sight he would be for his hall’s resident advisor in the morning.
The impact of the spell shook their entire being and filled their ears with a high-pitched hum. Sharp pain bit into their back. But they remained steady. They needed to get Brezziana out of there.
Genre: Fanfiction
Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Rating: T
Warning: None
Pairing: None
Description: Price witnesses Jamie having a nightmare. Continued from day 17.
Day 19;
@aprilisthecruelestmonth: "please stop crying."
@whumpril: ears ringing
@chaos-company's angstpril: alt 7; nightmares
Ao3 or under the cut
Ghost told Price what happened the second Jamie saw him. Both men hate how terrified she is of them. Repairing their friendship with Jamie will take considerable time. Price lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, struggling to sleep.
He looks at the time on his phone. Two in the morning. He’s been staring at the ceiling for five hours. Price gets out of bed and leaves the room.
Price walks into Jamie’s room in the medbay. He hears her whimpering in her sleep. He studies her facial expression, worried she’s in pain. As he watches Jamie, Price realizes she’s having a nightmare. He needs to awaken her. Price takes her hand.
“You’re ok. You’re safe.”
Jamie wakes up. Her ears are ringing as if the beating in her dream happened. She cries not understanding that she’s safe.
“Please stop crying.”
Price doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to frighten Jamie further.
“She’s had nightmares since Gaz and Soap brought here,” the nurse says. “Everyone taking care of her here are arguing about continuing to sedate her to allow her to sleep or not. It’s obvious the last nurse to care for her decided to not give her sedation. It’s a logical argument, but she won’t sleep if we don’t give her something.”
The nurse injects a sedative. Aware of the arguing they’ll deal with later. Jamie is asleep within minutes.
Price watches Jamie for a few minutes before the nurse insists he get some sleep himself. Price knows they’re right. With Jamie asleep, it’s better he goes to his room to sleep. Price exits the room after glancing at Jamie one final time. He hates this is his and Ghost’s fault.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The most I have ever projected onto a character, holy shit. I also literally wrote this yesterday and it's only seen one round of editing, so if she's a little rough, apologies, blame poorly timed assignments
Like I say in the notes, posting will be a little irregular for the next few days, but I will do my best to get something out each day for Whumpril. I've committed this far, I'll keep it going, dammit! Though it will be my first time on a plane, so wish me luck that I don't crash and die! :D
