Schmoop Bingo - Building a Better Everything - Part I
Title: Building a Better Everything - Part I
Prompt: Nurse Back To Health
Medium: fic
Rating: K
Pairing: Sokka/Zuko
Summary: When bronzerider Z'ko is injured fighting thread, Sokka finds ways to help him through the recovery. Written for avocado_love in her Queen Flight universe, an Avatar: The Last Airbender/Dragonriders of Pern crossover. Part of schmoop_bingo .
This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it got long and I'm not going to finish it tonight, so here's part one.
Part I | Part II
Dragons, Sokka had learned, were big. Big, and disgusting.
"Look at this," he muttered. "Just look at it!"
There was, of course, no one to look. All hands at Benden Weyr stayed busy during a fall, with apprentices and weyrlings and kitchen boys and even harpers moving firestone, changing out flamethrower tanks, and performing those dozens of small tasks that always needed doing. Truth be told, they could probably use a journeyman smith's hands, too, but Sokka made it a habit to keep himself busy inside during a fall.
"Dragons," he muttered, pulling the plunger from the pump assembly and watching shreds of skin pour into the basin. "Might as well be dogs, the way they shed. Just look at this!" He had taken the pump - first in a battery that kept the weyr's pond filtered clean - apart three times in four sevendays, and found it clogged with decaying discarded dragon hide each time.
A dragon's shrill whistle interrupted his dark thoughts, a cry of pain answered by the watch dragon's roar and the chirps of fire lizards. Goldie's voice was absent; she had taken to flying the fighting wings beside Honorath during a fall.
Terror rose in Sokka's throat, almost tangible, as the dragon shrieked again. Focus, Sokka. The cries soon quieted, but the terror lingered as he kept his attention on the pump. He dried each part - plunger, springs, valves - and set it aside to be lubricated before reassembly. One of these days, he would -
Sokka.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" He nearly fell off his stool in shock, barely catching himself.
Sokka.
"Honorath? Is that you? In my head?"
Come quickly. Z'ko -
The stool crashed to the ground as Sokka rushed from the workshop.
Flurries of activity filled the weyr's great bowl when Sokka emerged into weak sunlight. Here, a queen dragon being reloaded with agenothree tanks. There, a brown with a thread-scored flank being treated by healers. There, a wing of blues and greens, exhausted from the fight and relieved by a reserve wing, settling to drink by the lake. Sokka held up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, searching for Honorath's great bronze bulk, for Z'ko's stiff, confident stride.
By the Hatching Ground.
"By the Hatching Ground?" Sokka turned his head to see, but the bowl below the Hatching Ground was empty. "Honorath? What happened? Is Z'ko -"
Honorath erupted from between, shattering the air over the bowl and bellowing a challenge. Sokka ducked as the wind from his passage flattened the bowl, then looked up to see Honorath backwing into the space before the Hatching Ground. He roared again as his hind legs touched the earth. Sokka!
He was running before he realized it, searching for Z'ko on his perch atop Honorath's neck, but the great bronze had his wings extended. Please, Sokka thought, unsure who he was speaking to. Please.
Honorath turned, then, and Sokka felt his breath sucked from him as time slowed down. Blood thundered in his ears as he looked up. Honorath's neck was empty, the expanse of his hide broken by only a single harness strap.
No…
You fool! Honorath's voice was angry. He's on the other side - I wouldn't be here if he weren't!
The world sped back up and Sokka gasped as he remembered to breathe. "R-right…" He ducked under the bronze's foreleg, heedless of the warning cries from the weyr healers.
Z'ko hung from the harness, one leg tangled in the straps and bent at an angle that made Sokka's stomach twist. Blood matted his hair, dripping down his face and one limp arm. "I need a healer!" Sokka bellowed, then scrambled up Honorath's foreleg as the dragon dipped his neck. "Careful, lover," Sokka whispered. "We'll get you out of this. It'll be fine. You'll see."
***
Darkness lay warm and black over Z'ko, shielding him from the pain that hovered, waiting. Duty waited there, too, as did other obligations, but he turned away, wrapping himself in the dark.
Z'ko.
An accident, he thought. There had been an accident, yes, and an injury.
Z'ko.
A stupid accident. One that could have been avoided, if only... but now he would have to face the consequences.
Later.
He tried again to immerse himself in quiet darkness.
Z'KO!
"What, Honorath?" he asked - or tried to. His mouth felt dry and gummy and his head thundered with new pain. He worked his mouth and tried to swallow.
"Oh, now you're awake."
This voice came from outside Z'ko's head, soft and carrying resignation - or amusement - or both.
Z'ko frowned. "Katara? What -"
"Yes, I'm here - and now you are, too. The weyr healer says you're concussed, and kept you sedated until she could set your leg. It's taken you a little longer than we thought to wake up. Here, you'll probably want water."
He heard shuffling and footsteps and then Katara's gentle fingers on his hand. "I've water here - can you hold the cup, or should I?"
Z'ko raised his hand and found it steadier than he'd feared. His fingers closed around the cup and he drank.
Katara took the cup after he'd drained it. "More?"
Z'ko cleared his throat. "No." His voice didn't sound too weak, he decided. "Sokka?"
She sighed, sounding exasperated. "I sent Sokka to the kitchens not ten minutes ago. He's been at your side since he pulled you from the harness and I finally made him take a break. You would choose just that moment to wake up, and now I'm never going to hear the end of it." Her fingers trembled where they still rested on his arm, belying the anger in her voice, and Z'ko hid his smile.
"How bad?" he asked.
"Your left leg is broken below the knee, you hit your head hard enough to knock you out, according to Honorath, and then you hung upside-down for several minutes. You've also some minor thread-scored across your right arm and -"
"Z'ko!"
"Sokka?"
"I'll just leave you two alone."
Katara pulled the curtain closed behind her as Sokka crossed the room to Z'ko's side and took his hand. His left hand, Z'ko noted, and moved the fingers of his right hand. He felt the resistance of bandages, but no pain. He sighed and let his head fall back. "Sokka."
"I'm here." Z'ko heard a chair scrape the floor and then felt Sokka settle in beside him. "You idiot dragonrider, I thought I'd lost you," he whispered. "What happened?"
Z'ko thought back, through darkness and pain. Threadfall - he and Honorath had been fighting thread.
The harness, Honorath supplied, and Z'ko remembered.
"The strap broke," he explained.
"The strap broke." Sokka's tone was flat.
"One of the fighting straps. The -" Z'ko moved his right hand. "The left main."
"The strap. Broke."
Z'ko frowned.
"Broke."
Careful, Z'ko, Honorath warned. He is not -
"It just broke?"
Z'ko shrugged, then regretted the movement. "The hide was getting worn. I was going to repair it, but it was still sound. Then thread scored into the worn part, and Honorath banked to free us, and it broke."
"The hide was getting worn."
Which one of us has the head injury? Z'ko wondered.
"You stupid dragonrider!"
Z'ko winced at the shout, but Sokka continued. "You could have died - you almost did die - because you didn't repair a strap that keeps you from falling to your death?"
"I didn't fall to my death -"
"You could have!" He slapped Z'ko's thigh and pain flared in his shin. Honorath roared in the distance, but Sokka continued. "As it is, you'll be lucky to walk again! It's been a day and a half since I pulled your bleeding carcass off of Honorath and I've been worried sick that you just weren't going to wake up, and it's all because you didn’t repair a strap -"
Z'ko reached out with his left arm to pull Sokka against him, biting back pain at the movement, but Sokka stopped talking. He lay his head against Z'ko's shoulder and took a deep, shuddering breath.
"I'm sorry," Z'ko whispered.
"You'd better be." Sokka sniffed. "I cleaned up my old rooms - the ones behind my workshop."
"Why?"
Sokka laughed once, the sound more pained than amused. "You idiot. The healer says you'll walk again, but not any time soon. How do you think you'd get up to your weyr? There are three hundred and eighteen stairs - believe me, I've counted - and -"
"Honorath will -"
He's right, Honorath said. His rooms are near the infirmary, and you need care right now. The worry in the dragon's voice stopped the protest in Z'ko's throat.
"Honorath just agreed with me, didn't he."
Z'ko scowled and wished he could roll onto his side, away from Sokka's knowing gaze. His leg and hand and head throbbed enough to make him wish for unconsciousness again.
He was very worried, Honorath murmured. The little one told me, and I felt it myself. I told him you were still there, but he -
"You told him?"
"What?" Sokka asked.
"Not you. Honorath - I'm talking to - oh never mind." Irritation replaced Z'ko's surprise, intensifying as he felt Honorath's amusement. Z'ko sighed. "Did the healer say when I can leave the infirmary?"
"Not yet." Sokka shifted in the chair, and took Z'ko's left hand in both of his. "You should go back to sleep, now that you've woken up."
Z'ko wanted to argue, but exhaustion had crept back over him. He let himself relax back into darkness, aware now of Sokka's touch anchoring him this time.
***
"There, that wasn't so bad now, was it?"
Z'ko clenched his teeth together, his forehead creased in that way that showed just how furious he was, but Sokka ignored it. He knew full well how much pain the other man must be in, and an angry Z'ko was far superior to a hurting one. "If you're good, I'll even make you a crutch when the healers give the okay."
Z'ko only closed his eyes and scowled in reply, but he settled back against the furs. Sokka allowed himself a sigh of relief as he pulled curtains and doors closed behind the departing stretcher-bearers. The break was bad, according to the healers, not one but three separate fractures. According to Honorath - and Sokka still shivered at the memory of the great bronze speaking in his head - he had swerved to avoid thread, the strap had broken, and Z'ko had been flung out and stopped short by the remaining strap. The force had snapped both bones in his lower leg, but at least the breaks were clean.
Sokka sighed. Z'ko's face and breathing had already relaxed into sleep - or a doze, at least - and Sokka allowed his own false cheer to slip away. I almost lost you, he thought, smoothing Z'ko's hair away from his face. He thought about staying there, curling up with Z'ko and dozing the afternoon away, but pushed himself up from the bed.
The threadscore on his hand had scabbed over at least, the lines thin and sharp against Z'ko's light skin. Thread had burned right through his heavy riding gloves as well as the strap - and into Honorath's hide, as well. Nothing had been able to dissuade Z'ko from checking on Honorath before making his way to Sokka's workshop, and finally the healers had thrown up their hands and allowed his stretcher a detour to the lower caverns entrance. Honorath had crouched there, crooning deep in his chest, and Sokka had had to blink back tears at the expression on his lover's face.
Sokka blinked back tears again as he stepped from the room, drawing the curtain closed. Goldie followed a moment later, but Sokka shook his head. "Stay with him," he murmured. Goldie chirped annoyance and acquiescence, and dipped back into the sleeping room.
His main workbench lay empty, the bits and pieces of pumps and piping delegated to an apprentice's table. Honorath's broken harness had been delivered days ago, but only now did Sokka pick it up, running the smooth leather through his fingers.
He had never thought hard about the harnesses that held dragonriders in place atop their beasts, neither the wide passenger belts nor the fighting straps. The designs had seemed functional enough, but…
"I can do better," he promised, and set down to study the new project.
Prompt: Nurse Back To Health
Medium: fic
Rating: K
Pairing: Sokka/Zuko
Summary: When bronzerider Z'ko is injured fighting thread, Sokka finds ways to help him through the recovery. Written for avocado_love in her Queen Flight universe, an Avatar: The Last Airbender/Dragonriders of Pern crossover. Part of schmoop_bingo .
This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it got long and I'm not going to finish it tonight, so here's part one.
Part I | Part II
Dragons, Sokka had learned, were big. Big, and disgusting.
"Look at this," he muttered. "Just look at it!"
There was, of course, no one to look. All hands at Benden Weyr stayed busy during a fall, with apprentices and weyrlings and kitchen boys and even harpers moving firestone, changing out flamethrower tanks, and performing those dozens of small tasks that always needed doing. Truth be told, they could probably use a journeyman smith's hands, too, but Sokka made it a habit to keep himself busy inside during a fall.
"Dragons," he muttered, pulling the plunger from the pump assembly and watching shreds of skin pour into the basin. "Might as well be dogs, the way they shed. Just look at this!" He had taken the pump - first in a battery that kept the weyr's pond filtered clean - apart three times in four sevendays, and found it clogged with decaying discarded dragon hide each time.
A dragon's shrill whistle interrupted his dark thoughts, a cry of pain answered by the watch dragon's roar and the chirps of fire lizards. Goldie's voice was absent; she had taken to flying the fighting wings beside Honorath during a fall.
Terror rose in Sokka's throat, almost tangible, as the dragon shrieked again. Focus, Sokka. The cries soon quieted, but the terror lingered as he kept his attention on the pump. He dried each part - plunger, springs, valves - and set it aside to be lubricated before reassembly. One of these days, he would -
Sokka.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" He nearly fell off his stool in shock, barely catching himself.
Sokka.
"Honorath? Is that you? In my head?"
Come quickly. Z'ko -
The stool crashed to the ground as Sokka rushed from the workshop.
Flurries of activity filled the weyr's great bowl when Sokka emerged into weak sunlight. Here, a queen dragon being reloaded with agenothree tanks. There, a brown with a thread-scored flank being treated by healers. There, a wing of blues and greens, exhausted from the fight and relieved by a reserve wing, settling to drink by the lake. Sokka held up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, searching for Honorath's great bronze bulk, for Z'ko's stiff, confident stride.
By the Hatching Ground.
"By the Hatching Ground?" Sokka turned his head to see, but the bowl below the Hatching Ground was empty. "Honorath? What happened? Is Z'ko -"
Honorath erupted from between, shattering the air over the bowl and bellowing a challenge. Sokka ducked as the wind from his passage flattened the bowl, then looked up to see Honorath backwing into the space before the Hatching Ground. He roared again as his hind legs touched the earth. Sokka!
He was running before he realized it, searching for Z'ko on his perch atop Honorath's neck, but the great bronze had his wings extended. Please, Sokka thought, unsure who he was speaking to. Please.
Honorath turned, then, and Sokka felt his breath sucked from him as time slowed down. Blood thundered in his ears as he looked up. Honorath's neck was empty, the expanse of his hide broken by only a single harness strap.
No…
You fool! Honorath's voice was angry. He's on the other side - I wouldn't be here if he weren't!
The world sped back up and Sokka gasped as he remembered to breathe. "R-right…" He ducked under the bronze's foreleg, heedless of the warning cries from the weyr healers.
Z'ko hung from the harness, one leg tangled in the straps and bent at an angle that made Sokka's stomach twist. Blood matted his hair, dripping down his face and one limp arm. "I need a healer!" Sokka bellowed, then scrambled up Honorath's foreleg as the dragon dipped his neck. "Careful, lover," Sokka whispered. "We'll get you out of this. It'll be fine. You'll see."
***
Darkness lay warm and black over Z'ko, shielding him from the pain that hovered, waiting. Duty waited there, too, as did other obligations, but he turned away, wrapping himself in the dark.
Z'ko.
An accident, he thought. There had been an accident, yes, and an injury.
Z'ko.
A stupid accident. One that could have been avoided, if only... but now he would have to face the consequences.
Later.
He tried again to immerse himself in quiet darkness.
Z'KO!
"What, Honorath?" he asked - or tried to. His mouth felt dry and gummy and his head thundered with new pain. He worked his mouth and tried to swallow.
"Oh, now you're awake."
This voice came from outside Z'ko's head, soft and carrying resignation - or amusement - or both.
Z'ko frowned. "Katara? What -"
"Yes, I'm here - and now you are, too. The weyr healer says you're concussed, and kept you sedated until she could set your leg. It's taken you a little longer than we thought to wake up. Here, you'll probably want water."
He heard shuffling and footsteps and then Katara's gentle fingers on his hand. "I've water here - can you hold the cup, or should I?"
Z'ko raised his hand and found it steadier than he'd feared. His fingers closed around the cup and he drank.
Katara took the cup after he'd drained it. "More?"
Z'ko cleared his throat. "No." His voice didn't sound too weak, he decided. "Sokka?"
She sighed, sounding exasperated. "I sent Sokka to the kitchens not ten minutes ago. He's been at your side since he pulled you from the harness and I finally made him take a break. You would choose just that moment to wake up, and now I'm never going to hear the end of it." Her fingers trembled where they still rested on his arm, belying the anger in her voice, and Z'ko hid his smile.
"How bad?" he asked.
"Your left leg is broken below the knee, you hit your head hard enough to knock you out, according to Honorath, and then you hung upside-down for several minutes. You've also some minor thread-scored across your right arm and -"
"Z'ko!"
"Sokka?"
"I'll just leave you two alone."
Katara pulled the curtain closed behind her as Sokka crossed the room to Z'ko's side and took his hand. His left hand, Z'ko noted, and moved the fingers of his right hand. He felt the resistance of bandages, but no pain. He sighed and let his head fall back. "Sokka."
"I'm here." Z'ko heard a chair scrape the floor and then felt Sokka settle in beside him. "You idiot dragonrider, I thought I'd lost you," he whispered. "What happened?"
Z'ko thought back, through darkness and pain. Threadfall - he and Honorath had been fighting thread.
The harness, Honorath supplied, and Z'ko remembered.
"The strap broke," he explained.
"The strap broke." Sokka's tone was flat.
"One of the fighting straps. The -" Z'ko moved his right hand. "The left main."
"The strap. Broke."
Z'ko frowned.
"Broke."
Careful, Z'ko, Honorath warned. He is not -
"It just broke?"
Z'ko shrugged, then regretted the movement. "The hide was getting worn. I was going to repair it, but it was still sound. Then thread scored into the worn part, and Honorath banked to free us, and it broke."
"The hide was getting worn."
Which one of us has the head injury? Z'ko wondered.
"You stupid dragonrider!"
Z'ko winced at the shout, but Sokka continued. "You could have died - you almost did die - because you didn't repair a strap that keeps you from falling to your death?"
"I didn't fall to my death -"
"You could have!" He slapped Z'ko's thigh and pain flared in his shin. Honorath roared in the distance, but Sokka continued. "As it is, you'll be lucky to walk again! It's been a day and a half since I pulled your bleeding carcass off of Honorath and I've been worried sick that you just weren't going to wake up, and it's all because you didn’t repair a strap -"
Z'ko reached out with his left arm to pull Sokka against him, biting back pain at the movement, but Sokka stopped talking. He lay his head against Z'ko's shoulder and took a deep, shuddering breath.
"I'm sorry," Z'ko whispered.
"You'd better be." Sokka sniffed. "I cleaned up my old rooms - the ones behind my workshop."
"Why?"
Sokka laughed once, the sound more pained than amused. "You idiot. The healer says you'll walk again, but not any time soon. How do you think you'd get up to your weyr? There are three hundred and eighteen stairs - believe me, I've counted - and -"
"Honorath will -"
He's right, Honorath said. His rooms are near the infirmary, and you need care right now. The worry in the dragon's voice stopped the protest in Z'ko's throat.
"Honorath just agreed with me, didn't he."
Z'ko scowled and wished he could roll onto his side, away from Sokka's knowing gaze. His leg and hand and head throbbed enough to make him wish for unconsciousness again.
He was very worried, Honorath murmured. The little one told me, and I felt it myself. I told him you were still there, but he -
"You told him?"
"What?" Sokka asked.
"Not you. Honorath - I'm talking to - oh never mind." Irritation replaced Z'ko's surprise, intensifying as he felt Honorath's amusement. Z'ko sighed. "Did the healer say when I can leave the infirmary?"
"Not yet." Sokka shifted in the chair, and took Z'ko's left hand in both of his. "You should go back to sleep, now that you've woken up."
Z'ko wanted to argue, but exhaustion had crept back over him. He let himself relax back into darkness, aware now of Sokka's touch anchoring him this time.
***
"There, that wasn't so bad now, was it?"
Z'ko clenched his teeth together, his forehead creased in that way that showed just how furious he was, but Sokka ignored it. He knew full well how much pain the other man must be in, and an angry Z'ko was far superior to a hurting one. "If you're good, I'll even make you a crutch when the healers give the okay."
Z'ko only closed his eyes and scowled in reply, but he settled back against the furs. Sokka allowed himself a sigh of relief as he pulled curtains and doors closed behind the departing stretcher-bearers. The break was bad, according to the healers, not one but three separate fractures. According to Honorath - and Sokka still shivered at the memory of the great bronze speaking in his head - he had swerved to avoid thread, the strap had broken, and Z'ko had been flung out and stopped short by the remaining strap. The force had snapped both bones in his lower leg, but at least the breaks were clean.
Sokka sighed. Z'ko's face and breathing had already relaxed into sleep - or a doze, at least - and Sokka allowed his own false cheer to slip away. I almost lost you, he thought, smoothing Z'ko's hair away from his face. He thought about staying there, curling up with Z'ko and dozing the afternoon away, but pushed himself up from the bed.
The threadscore on his hand had scabbed over at least, the lines thin and sharp against Z'ko's light skin. Thread had burned right through his heavy riding gloves as well as the strap - and into Honorath's hide, as well. Nothing had been able to dissuade Z'ko from checking on Honorath before making his way to Sokka's workshop, and finally the healers had thrown up their hands and allowed his stretcher a detour to the lower caverns entrance. Honorath had crouched there, crooning deep in his chest, and Sokka had had to blink back tears at the expression on his lover's face.
Sokka blinked back tears again as he stepped from the room, drawing the curtain closed. Goldie followed a moment later, but Sokka shook his head. "Stay with him," he murmured. Goldie chirped annoyance and acquiescence, and dipped back into the sleeping room.
His main workbench lay empty, the bits and pieces of pumps and piping delegated to an apprentice's table. Honorath's broken harness had been delivered days ago, but only now did Sokka pick it up, running the smooth leather through his fingers.
He had never thought hard about the harnesses that held dragonriders in place atop their beasts, neither the wide passenger belts nor the fighting straps. The designs had seemed functional enough, but…
"I can do better," he promised, and set down to study the new project.