Work Text:
Gotta admit, being stabbed sucked.
He could feel the blood gushing out as he stumbles around with the medics, getting the citizens into the ambulances. He kept all the medics busy, not letting them see that the blood that soaked his costume was his.
He was hoping they'd just think all his wounds were the bruises and little cut above his eyebrow. None of them had seen the fight, none of them had seen Joel stabbed. If everything goes to his plan, Joel can leave here today, and just deal with his injuries at home instead of being forced to go to the hospital.
It wasn't until all the civilians were gone that he realised that someone had actually seen him get stabbed.
Etho was across the place, speaking to some of the medics as they stood around the last remaining ambulance. He's staring at Joel, deep in thought, mismatched eyes narrowed. He had been in the battle with Joel, he had seen it happen, had had to take over while Joel took a minute to recover.
Joel glares back at him across the field, daring him to say something to the medics. Unfortunately, Etho isn't one to back down from a dare, and Joel feels his face pale when he notices Etho's mask moving, as if he was talking.
Immediately he has medics rushing towards him. They're pushing him around, towards the ambulance, touching and prodding at his wound. He tries to swat them off, but they manage to get him into the ambulance, forcing him to sit on the stretcher, one of them getting pressure on his wound, bandages wrapped around it for now until they reach their destination.
Etho gets in the ambulance calmly, fox tail flicking behind him. He gets comfortable, eyes crinkled in what Joel knows is a smirk under that mask. He scowls back at the other, but stays quiet, knowing that it's not worth starting a fight here. So he stays shut up as the ambulance rushes towards the hero tower, trying to get Joel back to the healing floor.
Joel won't let them keep him on the stretcher. When they get there, he's pushing them away, ignoring how Etho's hands join the ones trying to guide him back towards the stretcher. He pushes Etho away too, maybe pushing even harder than he did for the medics.
He's still guided to the healing floor, no matter how much he argues. The medics are gone, leaving after a simple word from Etho. It's just him and Etho, Etho's hand is tight around his arm, nails leaving indents in his pale. The other's face is serious, staring at Joel with almost worry in his eyes, but Joel just rolls his own, letting the worried man sit him down on one of the beds.
Someone comes in. They check out his wound, and seem panicked when they do, suddenly yelling. Joel truly doesn't understand most of what is being said, ringing in his ear. He feels himself getting shoved down to fully lay on the bed, pressure shoved against his wound, pain shooting through his body, the almost numb injury angered.
The person is still yelling, screaming out orders. Joel doesn't understand any of it but one word. "Surgery"
Immediately he's shoving the doctor away. His wound keeps gushing blood, dripping down his costume, the doctor having removed the bandages. He gets off the cot fast, shaking his head. "No." The single word feels so hard to get out, tongue feeling glued to the bottom of his mouth.
He can't get surgery. He can't deal with a ridiculous healing time from that, he needs to be out, needs to be doing hero work. Why can't he just get some stitches? The wound can't be that bad.
Etho and the doctor glance at each other, quietly communicating something between them. Or maybe out loud, the ringing is so loud.
The doctor is given a mask from one of the nurses Joel didn't notice. Meanwhile, Etho approaches him, hands out, trying to show he means peace. Joel knows he means anything but.
He tries to shove the fox away when he gets too close, but Etho grabs onto his wrists, pulling him close and pinning him against him, holding him tight as he struggles. Etho nods at the doctor, and the mask is pressed over Joel's nose and mouth.
The air tastes like shit. He struggles, trying to move his face away. But his head is held in place, forcing him to breath in the air too thick to be normal.
Etho is behind him, grip releasing a bit. "It'll be okay Joel. Just let us do this. Its for your own good"
God Joel was going to kill him. But he'd have to do it later, black rimming his eyes. He finds his body going limp, only held up by Etho's tight arms still holding him up.
His ears are still ringing when he wakes up. The moment his eyes open, he closes them again, the light burning his eyes. He feels exhausted, like he had just gotten the worst sleep of his life. He wants to go back to bed.
"Joel"
His exhaustion is immediately replaced with anger, and he sits up quickly, trying to punch the man sitting in the chair next to the bed. But moving his body sends pain shooting through his legs, and he lays back down, choosing instead to glare at Etho, who sits next to him.
The other was no longer in costume, looking considerably more relaxed. He's in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, half laying in the chair, a cloth mask pulled down so he can eat the sandwich he has in his hand.
Joel's eyes drift towards the sandwich. Some sort of meat, sandwiched between lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, pickles, cucumbers, some sauce, and two thick layers of bread. Joel knows that sandwich, it's his favourite from the cafeteria. Etho chuckles when he notices Joel's stare.
"Nope. This is mine. I don't even know if you can eat something like this yet" Etho hums, taking another bite of the sandwich.
"Fuck you" Joel responds, closing his eyes. The pain in his gut had calmed down again, overwhelmed by the drugs pumping through his system, leaving a sort of numb feeling in his body.
They go quiet again, Joel still waking up. Eventually, Etho starts speaking again. "From what I've heard, your healing won't be that bad. Get your stitches out in a bit, two weeks in this bed, and a bunch of painkillers. Could be worse. You get a full month off patrols!"
"Plenty of time for the mission injury paperwork. Which I wouldn't have to write if it wasn't for you" Joel opens his eyes again to glare at Etho. Etho just gives him a smile back, patient and calm, yet concern still fills his eyes.
"I think you prefer paperwork over dying"
"We'll see" Joel responds, using his hands to push himself up slowly. His gut aches, but he manages to get himself sitting up. Etho reaches over, propping up the pillows to support Joel's back. "Thank you"
Etho nods, sitting back down in his chair. They look at each other for a second, before Joel's stomach grumbles.
"So, if I can't have a sandwich, what do you think I can eat?"