Work Text:
Fiona tapped her foot, groaning from the boredom of her monotonous paperwork. All this for some small apartment she shares with her younger sister and boyfriend.
Scourge stumbled through the door, panting heavily whilst covered in blood, scratches, and bruises. Each injury just made him look smaller, more pathetic. It’s easy to forget how young he really is.
“Scourge? What happened–” The red fox stood up from her chair, taking a step towards her wounded boyfriend.
Most people would be shocked seeing their partner covered in blood and stumbling into their house, but for Fiona, it's just another day of the week.
But that look in his eye…
“Nevermind,” she shook her head, cutting herself off. “Just tell me what’s hurt.”
The green hedgehog gestured to his arm, where his sleeve is tattered and coated in blood. The mere sight of it made Fiona cringe.
“Just… sit down on the couch. I’ll grab the first aid kit.” She told him, walking off to the bathroom. He sat down, tensing up from the numerous minor injuries he had sustained.
“Ah, geez. You’re always getting yourself so banged up.” Fiona mumbled as she came back into the room, first aid kit in hand. She sat down beside him, setting the kit to her side, eyeing his injured arm.
“Let me take off your jacket.” She ordered. He lifted his arm, gritting his teeth from the pain. Fiona slowly took the jacket off of his injured arm. The fabric brushing against him elicited a wince from him, making Fiona acutely aware of his discomfort.
“Are you okay? You’re usually a lot more talkative.” She asked, making more of a conscious effort to not brush his skin, or lack thereof, while taking off his jacket.
“Like I’d be okay right now,” he retorted as she took the jacket fully off his arm. The red fox felt a pang of lightheadedness as she took in the sight of his maimed arm, much of the skin ripped off. No wonder it was bleeding so much, it’s so much exposed flesh all along his forearm.
Fiona’s unsteady hand grabbed the damp washcloth she prepared for him, using it to dab the blood off of his arm, making him flinch. “You know that’s not what I mean.” She turned her attention from his bloodied arm to his aqua eyes. “ Talk to me .”
After a long silence between them, he looked away. “Kinda bummed out about the jacket.” He mumbled. She put pressure on the wound, making him wince.
“The jacket?” Fiona raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “I can tell this is about more than the jacket.” She leaned in, encroaching on the personal space he had given himself. “Tell me the truth.” Her voice was stern, but compassionate.
After a long silence between the two, he spoke up, albeit in a whisper. “Is Zoey home?”
“She’s always got her headphones on,” Fiona says with a shrug, still with her tender gaze on him. “It’s not like she’d pay attention to us.” Her voice felt soft, gently coercing him to speak up.
After several seconds of Scourge staring at the floor, his shoulders slumped, tears welling up in his eyes. Before long, his muzzle scrunched up and reddened with blush. He grabbed his own face, trying to hide himself from her. Scourge hunched over, his breath stuttering as he tried to fight sobs.
But the fighting was futile.
He couldn't stop. Each gasp for air accompanied by a wail he tried to muffle, but Fiona could still hear it. Each heavy sob, each of them felt more gut wrenching than the previous. Just hearing how miserable he was made Fiona's stomach churn.
“What am I even good for…?” He mumbled, his breath stuttering on each word. “I’m supposed to protect you …” He whined, his voice cracking under his own stress. Fiona put her arms around him, feeling the weight of each sob. “What kinda boyfriend am I…?” He wept, his voice raspy from his sore throat. “A weak… cowardly… loser…” he bawled.
Fiona leans into him, so she can whisper right behind his ear. “You’re so much braver than you know.” She begins to comb her fingers through his quills. “You're dedicated, and you've never stopped fighting for me.” She mumbles before pressing a kiss against his temple. “That's what I love about you.”
The whispers of reassurance definitely helped ease his breathing. He sniffles, looking up at Fiona, who gets shocked by how his face is covered in snot and tears.
He did not look good. They don’t call it ugly crying for nothing.
“Do you need me to get you some tissues?” Fiona inquired, a thick layer of compassion in her tone, her hand deciding between cupping his cheek and keeping itself dry, choosing the latter.
Scourge nodded, not attempting to speak so as to not fall back into a sobbing mess. “Mhm…”
Fiona stands up, heading towards the bathroom. Scourge continues to sit there, wiping his eyes.
Fiona comes back, handing Scourge a roll of toilet paper to blow his nose.
“Thanks… Babe…” Scourge mumbles, his voice still raw from crying.
As he is in the middle of blowing his nose, Fiona gestures towards the small kitchen “Come on, let's get you some water and painkillers. I still gotta patch you up.”
He nods softly, following close behind.
The clanking of ice in his water is the only thing that broke the silence, somehow it only amplified the feeling of emptiness in the room. The distance was only a few feet, with Fiona digging through their medicine cabinet, and Scourge sitting at the table.
"You're the only thing that's kept me alive." Scourge's voice cut through the silence like a dull knife. It didn't have any edge, making it hurt so much worse. "You, and my cowardice."
Fiona's breath caught in her throat, her hands inching away from the painkillers as she turned her head towards him.
"I'd have given up a long time ago." The eerie hollowness of his voice said so much more than she was ready to hear. As he glanced at her, she shivered at the sight of his empty eyes and shallow smile. "Isn't it funny—"
"Shut up! Don't you dare talk like that!" she cried. She'd reacted so fast that Scourge didn't realize what had happened as she held his face against her shoulder. "Don't you dare think about leaving me."
He felt his tears welling up again, his brows crinkling, and his cheeks warming.
"I still need you."