Chapter Text
There was a sharp pain in his back. Joaquín shifted, trying to get away from whatever it was.
Something was cutting into his back. It was sharp. He could feel his blood flow down his skin, pooling onto the metal table.
"Subject is Joaquín Torres," he heard a voice say.
"Shouldn't we sedate him?"
"No, let him feel it."
Joaquín bolted upright. He yelped when he felt a hand on his arm. He whipped his head around.
Bob was laying in bed. He was blinking up at him, making a sleepy noise.
"It's okay Joaquín, you're at the compound," Bob said. He slowly sat up.
Joaquín took a deep breath. "Right."
Joaquín looked around the room. He took in his familiar space. His room, not some lab or dark place. He was okay. He was safe.
"You alright?" Bob asked gently.
"I think so. Had another nightmare about the surgeries." Joaquín scooted closer to Bob. He winced, a deep pain shooting through his back.
Bob smiled at him sympathetically. "Maybe you can have some time with your wings out after everyone's left?" He suggested.
Everyone was leaving today. His Mama needed to get back to take care of his Abuela. Shang-Chi had some business to take care of. The rest needed to keep looking for his captors.
"Mm... maybe."
Bob ran a hand through Joaquín's hair, a frown on his lips.
Joaquín knew it was logical that they couldn't stay. But man did he want to throw a fit about it.
Bob gently pressed a kiss to his cheek. Joaquín turned his head to kiss his lips.
"I'm gonna get up now. So I can spend more time with everyone," Joaquín said. It was still pretty early.
"Yeah, I'll come with you."
The two of them got up and got dressed. Every movement only intensified the pain in his back. Bob had to help him get his pants off and on. Before he would've found it cute, but now it was just embarrassing that he had to be dressed like a child.
Bob rubbed his back carefully. The heat of his hand was soothing against the pain. He didn't know if it actually helped the pain, or if Joaquín just liked the touch, but at least it was something.
They went into the bathroom next. Joaquín brushed his teeth, Bob brushed his hair for him. Joaquín avoided looking in the mirror. He already wanted to crawl back in bed.
"You know, I don't think anybody would mind if you took your wings out now," Bob commented, setting the brush down.
Joaquín shrugged, then flinched at the pain that caused. "...I think I can manage a little longer."
Bob looked at him sadly. "Are you sure?"
Joaquín leaned up to kiss him. "I'm fine."
"Okay, but at least let me pamper you later."
"I think you already are," Joaquín pointed out.
Bob shook his head. "This is the bare minimum, sweetheart."
"Hm. Does your bite hurt any?" There was still a little imprint of Joaquín's teeth on Bob's neck. Two prick points. Like the kind you'd get after getting your blood drawn, but slightly bigger.
"No. Doesn't hurt at all," Bob said.
Joaquín nodded. He still felt bad for drinking his blood, but it had felt so good.
They left their room and made their way down the hallway. Yelena and his mama were sitting on the couch, their heads lifted when they walked in.
"Morning," Joaquín said.
The two of them said their greetings. Joaquín sat down in between them, Bob sitting in between him and Yelena.
There was a tension in the air. Everyone knew they were leaving. Everyone knew Joaquín would be upset. It felt weird to have a whole group of people worried about you being sad. Joaquín hated it. He wanted it to go back to normal. When they were concerned when he was upset, but didn't have to actively move around him being upset.
"You okay 'Quín?" Yelena asked.
Joaquín looked up at her. He nodded slowly. "I'm just tired."
Joaquín wasn't going to cry. He could be strong. He didn't even cry for a long time when they were torturing him.
"You can go back to sleep if you'd like," Mama said.
"I know," Joaquín didn't mean for it to come out as a snap. Mama looked at him with a frown. He mouthed a 'sorry'.
Sam and Bucky appeared at the doorway. They seemed to function more as a unit then anything these days. Joaquín was glad, he was the one that had to shoulder most of the annoyance when Sam and him had one of their 'breakups' or fights. He loved Sam, Bucky too, but he had no idea how he'd become the mediator.
Sam walked into the room, greeting them. Bucky followed behind. Bucky's eyes were downcast, staring at the floor.
Sam sat down on one of the chairs across from the couch. Bucky stood next to him, one hand leaning on the chair. Joaquín waited for whatever they were about to say.
"Joaquín, your mother told us about the school you went to when you lived in Arizona," Sam started.
"What about it?" Joaquín asked. He hadn't thought about that in a long time. It didn't bring up any particular memories for him.
"She said there were rumors about the lab the school was connected to conducting experiments," Sam explained.
Joaquín did recall hearing a few rumors. The other kids would whisper about it occasionally. Joaquín never felt the need to ask anyone. He hadn't cared at the time. All he had cared about was going home.
"They never did anything to me, if that's what you're getting at. Those were just rumors among second graders, it's a waste of time," Joaquín shook his head.
"Rumors among second graders are better than anything else we have right now," Bucky said. He seemed distant as he said it. Like his mind was trapped somewhere else.
There was the falling of footsteps in the hall. Joaquín flinched, turning his head to see what it was.
Shang-Chi stood in the doorway. He nodded at Joaquín, probably noticing his reaction. Joaquín turned away and bit his lip.
"Sorry, didn't know everyone was out here," Shang-Chi said. He came over to sit in one of the chairs.
"It's alright." Sam said. "Anyway, even if it might just be a dead end it's worth the possibility. We'll head over to Arizona after we drop you off, Ms.Torres."
Mama nodded her head, reaching out to take his hand. The touch was soft. The kind of comfort only his Mama had ever brought to him. Now she would be leaving.
Joaquín reminded himself it was for his Abuela. He wondered when the next time he would be able to see her would be. If she'd even remember him then.
"We still have a few hours, is there anything you guys would like to do?" Shang-Chi asked.
The hours loomed over him like a storm cloud. They would be gone soon. Probably Bob too, eventually. Once he realized Joaquín wasn't really worth all this.
They decided on playing a board game, but Joaquín couldn't really focus on it. He had to be prompted on his turns, could he really not do anything?
Joaquín didn't want to cry. He put all his effort into not crying. His captors would make fun of him for tears, maybe they were right. He was just a cry baby.
The pain in his back was awful. Everytime he'd move it would only get worse.
Joaquín gazed off into the distance. He didn't want to pay attention to anything at all anymore. He didn't want to think.
Joaquín obeyed whatever anyone told him to do without much thought. He gave them short replies when they asked if he was okay. Bucky brought them a snack. Joaquín ate a bite, the taste of the strawberry not registering at all on his tounge.
Hours passed. Joaquín was on the couch now. He wasn't even sure when he'd gotten there. People were talking to him.
"We're leaving buddy," Sam said, sitting next to him.
Joaquín should be sad, but he didn't want to be. He was so tired being sad. It felt better to feel nothing.
"Mm, bye," Joaquín replied.
Sam patted Joaquín's knee. He stared down at it. He was vaguely aware that Sam did that all the time out of affection, but it felt weird.
Then Bucky was next to him. They sat in quiet for a few moments.
"...you're feeling out of it, hm?" Bucky said.
Joaquín nodded.
"Yeah, I get that. It's hard." What Bucky was saying was incredibly vague, but Joaquín understood, even in his state. Bucky got into periods where he wasn't quite there. Joaquín used to try and help him when he got like that. Now he couldn't seem to remember what worked.
Bucky said some other things to him, but he couldn't focus on any of it. Yelena said goodbye next, then Shang-Chi.
Mama sat down next to him when Shang-Chi left. She grabbed his hand, squeezing it. He looked down at his hand like it wasn't really part of his body.
“Adiós, cariño, te voy a echar de menos,” Mama said.
“Tell Abuela I love her,” Joaquín said. He suddenly felt the urge to cling onto her. Like he did when he was little and didn't want to be separated from her. But that never made her stay. It probably made it harder on her.
“I will. She loves you very much too, and so do I.” Mama kissed his forehead and stood. Joaquín let her hand go after some hesitation.
Joaquín leaned back on the couch. He let his head fall back into the cushions. The white ceiling did nothing but aid in the overwhelming numbness he was feeling.
“Joaquín?” Bob said, standing next to the couch.
“Hm?”
“Are you feeling alright?”
“No,” Joaquín answered. He wasn't. He hadn't felt alright in a long time.
The couch shifted from the weight of Bob sitting down next to him. A hand ran through Joaquín's hair.
“That's fine. Do you still want to take your wings out?”
That would likely make him feel better. His back still hurts. He just felt disconnected from it.
“Okay,” Joaquín said.
He let Bob get his shirt off. He had been embarrassed about it earlier, but now he just wanted someone to take control. It was easier that way.
Joaquín began taking his wings out. He could feel then move beneath his skin. The bones shifted, breaking out into the air. He unconsciously made a yelp of pain.
“It's okay,” Bob comforted, rubbing a hand down his arm.
Joaquín shifted his wings. They laid awkwardly over the couch.
"Does that help the pain?" Bob asked.
The pain had lessened significantly. Joaquín nodded.
"Okay, I wanted to ask you, did you want to take a bath with your wings out?"
"Mm, guess so." He had never gotten his wings wet before. He supposed he was lucky in that way, they had never done anything to his wings. Giving them to him had been painful, but he was glad they never thought to harm them. Joaquín couldn't even imagine how much a broken wing would hurt. Even the thought made him recoil, wrapping his wings closer to his body.
"Now or later?"
"Nows fine," Joaquín said. He stood up when Bob did.
"Well the bathtub in the other part of the compound is much bigger, we can do it there," Bob said. He had a sort of fake enthusiasm in his tone. Joaquín forced his mind to pay attention to him. There was a redness around his eyes, he'd definitely been crying.
"Are you okay Bob?" Joaquín asked.
Bob paused at the door to the hall. He looked at Joaquín, eyes filling with tears.
Joaquín wrapped his wings around Bob, then his arms. He held him tight, rubbing his back gently.
"It's okay sweetheart."
"I know. I just- it's hard," Bob sighed.
Joaquín was making everything so hard for Bob. Instead of living his own life, Bob was stuck caring for him. At least the others could leave. That was probably why Bob was upset, he was trapped here.
"Here," Joaquín backed up from the hug. He forced a gentle smile. "I'll go take a bath, you can take a nap."
Bob liked naps. Joaquín could at least do that for him.
"Joaquín, I shouldn't leave you-"
"It's okay. I can take a bath on my own," Joaquín said.
"You've been dissociating for hours. I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone." Oh, that must have been what he was doing. dissociating.
"If I'm not done in an hour, you can come and check on me," Joaquín suggested. He was determined on doing this. He wanted to show Bob that he could be good. Maybe then Bob wouldn't want to leave.
Bob hesitated for a moment. "There's a panel right outside the bathroom. You can tap on it if you need me. Okay?"
"Okay," Joaquín nodded.
"You remember where the bath is?"
"Yes," Joaquín replied.
"I'll be here on the couch. I love you very, very, much." That was pretty nice to hear.
"Love you too," Joaquín said.
Bob lingered there. He was biting at his lip nervously. Joaquín leaned forward to kiss him. The kiss was accepted, pressing together for a few moments.
Joaquín backed away. He unfolded his wings from around Bob and turned to walk down the hallway.
Bob grabbed his hand before he could leave. "Be careful. I'll be right here."
"It's just a bath," Joaquín replied. He walked down the hall and turned the corner before Bob could stop him again.
The compound was large. They each had their own sections. Then connected ones, like the living room and kitchen. If Joaquín really wanted to he could take a room with his own kitchen connected. He thought that was a little excessive. He enjoyed the company of his teammates.
Then there was the other rooms. A gym, a place for parties, a pool, anything you could think of. And where he was going, a room with a really nice bath.
Joaquín let his muscle memory guide him to the room. It was a large bathroom, something you'd see in a movie with a mansion.
It felt weird to be in here alone. He had barely been left on his own since he'd been rescued. He hardly even used this particular room alone before, him and Bob mostly used it to take baths together.
This bath dipped down into the floor. Joaquín sat down on the tile and reached over to turn the faucet on.
The water started filling the tub. From his memory, it'd take a while for it to finish filling up.
Joaquín stared at the water as it flowed around the space. The tip of one of his wings dipped into the water.
Truthfully, he was beginning to feel lonely. The room felt so silent. The compound felt empty. Only him and Bob filling this massive space. Bob was away from him now too.
No. He didn't need to go crying back to Bob. He could be strong.
Joaquín wasn't sure why he felt so bad. He had even felt pretty good last night after he'd eaten. But now everything felt awful. He didn't know why his mood kept changing. He didn't understand why he felt the need to do what he was doing. He just... did.
Joaquín held his head in his hands. He rubbed his face. He slapped it lightly, then harder. Maybe the pain would do something.
The bath was completely abandoned as Joaquín sunk to lay down on the floor. He stared up at the ceiling. It was a burnt orange, with greens in there as well. At least it wasn't blank.
Joaquín felt like he couldn't move. He didn't feel in his body at all. It seemed like he was just an outsider, to his body and to the world.