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This situation just kept getting worse and worse. First he even had to bring along this hunk of metal when he'd rather not but now this hunk of metal was lecturing him about getting hurt.
Stinger really wanted to punch Champ right about now. He huffed and crossed his arms before wincing as he disturbed a fresh wound on him.
The two were in a motel room they had rented for the night. Stinger was sitting on the couch while Champ was hovering over him.
"Will you stop moving around? You're going to make them worse. Let me treat them, you stubborn ass." Champ grumbled.
"I don't need your help." Stinger protested. "Go away. I'll treat them myself."
He really didn't want to let Champ be the one to tend to his wounds for a multitude of reasons. He didn't like him, first and foremost. That was the main reason. The second was that there were secrets he would rather keep to himself that he didn't need someone he didn't even like to know about.
"You can barely move without pain. Just let me do it. It'll go faster." Champ argued with him.
He really wasn't going to let this go, was he? As hard as he tried to push him away, Champ seemed undeterred in his motivation. Stinger really wished he could be a bit better at actually getting others to listen to him.
"I am fine." Stinger insisted. "It's not like we're doing anything else right now. I can take my time. Go away."
"Oh, stop being so stubborn." Champ retorted before he reached over and forcibly started to remove Stinger's jacket.
Stinger tried to pull away, but he had to stop when pain overwhelmed him. The more he fought, the worse his pain was going to get. If Champ let go of him, he could get away, but pulling back against a force really hurt.
Champ got his jacket off and set it aside. Stinger took a glance down, wincing at the blood coating his shirt. He had definitely gotten hurt worse than he had thought. Guess that was what you got for being reckless.
"I can handle this." Stinger stated once more. This was his last chance to get Champ to back off. He doubted it was going to work but it was still worth a shot.
"Too late." Champ replied. "Will you stay still so this doesn't hurt when I take off your shirt?"
"Go away! I'm fine doing this alone!" Stinger held onto his shirt tightly. He was not giving up that easily. He didn't want to show his chest.
Champ stared at him for a moment at the outburst. "You're getting a little too defensive for such a simple thing."
"I am not. I just don't want you helping me."
"There's more to this. I should've noticed earlier. You're hiding something."
How did Champ read him that easily? Was he really getting that argumentative that it was easy to see? He thought he was being more careful than that. Was he wearing his emotions on his face? He was better than that. He shouldn't be.
"Then leave me alone. It should be clear I'm not letting you know." Stinger stated. If he couldn't deny it, he might as well play into it then.
"Sorry, no can do. I'm not trusting you to properly care for these wounds." Champ replied. "I doubt it's that shocking. Come on. I won't tell anyone whatever it is."
"That's not the issue and you know it. I don't want you to know."
"Come on. We're comrades. We don't need to keep secrets like this."
Stinger just huffed and turned his head away. He barely considered Champ that. Even so, he was allowed to have secrets if he wanted to. There was no reason he had to tell anyone of he didn't want to.
Champ shook his head at the display and then moved back in. Stinger had little time to react before he was carefully grabbed and restrained. Champ forced his shirt off without another word and Stinger couldn't do anything about it.
"That's a deep cut." Champ commented. "No way were you treating that properly."
Stinger glared at Champ before he let his gaze travel to the wound in question. It was certainly nastier than he had expected.
"Stay still. Let me clean it." Champ said as he grabbed a wipe from the med kit they had.
"I could've done it." Stinger mumbled.
"Yeah right."
Stinger winced as Champ cleaned up the wound. He tried not to think too hard of what all was now exposed. Hopefully it was something that would get glossed over. He didn't need this conversation to happen. Please just let it fade into the background with everything else.
"This is in a tricky spot for bandages." Champ spoke, mostly to himself. "I'll see what I can do."
Stinger remained silent as Champ began to experiment with different ways of wrapping the wound. He wasn't wrong that it was in an awkward position to have to wrap. The final product was definitely messy.
"Say, you got quite a few scars. But, this one here seems strange. Not a normal way to have a scar."
Stinger tensed. It had been noticed. He had really been hoping this was going to end without it happening. He really should have known better.
"Is this what you were so defensive about?" Champ questioned.
"None of your business." Stinger shot back.
"What is it from? Can't you tell me?"
Stinger sighed. Champ wasn't backing off. Why couldn't he just take the no and go with it? And why couldn't he be more firm in telling Champ no?
"It's from something intentional." Stinger stated. "None of your business beyond that."
Champ crossed his arms. "You really are going to be stubborn with this. Will it kill you to just be honest about it?"
"I don't want to tell you. Why don't you accept that?"
"Because you keep everything to yourself when you shouldn't."
Stinger huffed and grabbed his shirt, throwing it back on. He got to his feet and stormed off into the bedroom. He laid on the bed face-down and buried his face into a pillow. This wasn't how he had wanted any of this to go.
He only got a few minutes of peace before the door opened.
"Do you want any painkillers before I put the med kit away?" Champ asked.
"I'm fine." Stinger replied, his voice muffled by the pillow.
"Okay." Champ was silent for a minute. "Look, if you don't want to tell me, then fine. I'll stop asking. But you don't need to hide so much. It seems like your secrets cause more conflicts than if you just were honest."
Stinger didn't respond. He didn't want to tell Champ anything about this. Out of everyone on the team, he was the last one Stinger wanted to tell. But, it was true that being so closed off did seem to cause some issues for him.
"You can't tell anyone if I say it." Stinger moved to look over at Champ.
"Of course." Champ said.
Stinger let out a sigh before he spoke, "I... I'm trans. I wasn't born a guy."
"Oh. So those are... I get it now." Champ said. "That was anticlimactic. I was expecting something deeper honestly."
"I just told you something really personal and you're saying it wasn't deep enough?" Stinger shot back.
"Given you, yes."
Stinger let out a groan and shoved his face back into the pillow. "Will you leave me alone now?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just let me know if your wound starts hurting."